The Making of Matt (17 page)

“All ready?”

Great. Chirpy Chirpeson’s back.
“Sure,” I said weakly, forcing the word through my suddenly extremely tight throat.

“Are we going with the front first?”

What are you asking me for? You’re the sadistic bitch who wants to hurt me.
“Sure.”

“Great!”

You think?
I threw the evilest death glare I could summon at Ryder and I swear I saw the fucker grin.

“If you just pop your hand under and hold yourself flat against your stomach, I’ll get started,” she told me while stirring a pot of pink goo. Assuming
hold yourself
meant
move your dick outta the way
, I did as she said. “Ready?”

No.
“Sure.” Apparently, all other words had evaporated from my vocabulary.

I closed my eyes the second she removed the towel.
Why the hell didn’t I just call Alex and ask him if he dug the pre-pubescent boy look instead of taking that asshat’s word for it?
“Ooo…”
Mmm, okay, that doesn’t feel too bad.

She smoothed warm liquid over my balls. It tingled a little and I found myself kinda liking the sensation. Next came the feeling of something being pressed onto the delicate skin. It felt like silk through the soft wax. She ran the length of her skilled fingers over it a few times and I almost said aloud that she must make some guy very happy, but thankfully managed to stop myself. That kind of restraint didn’t happen very often. I deserved a high-five.

What I failed to realize, is that the twisted bitch was simply luring me into a false sense of security. Without warning, she ripped that strip of material from my body with so much force I was sure she’d removed my actual scrotum.
“Holy fuck!
” I cried, drawing my knees into my chest. “Argh, Christ!”

I didn’t think anything could make my moment of torture any worse…until I looked at Ryder. Laughing, he held his phone in the air, pointing straight at me.

“What the actual fuck, dude? Are you videoing this?”

“Oh my God,” I think he squealed. It was difficult to decipher through the roar of his laughter. “I totally didn’t think you’d go through with it.”

I leapt from that bed with so much rage flowing through my veins I feared I might actually kill him. My towel was fuck knows where as I stomped over to him with one perfectly smooth ball and shoved his shoulders so hard he stumbled over a trashcan and almost landed on his ass.

“You sick bastard!” I yelled, twitches of pain still rippling through my ball sac. “I can’t believe you think this is funny. I can barely fucking walk!”

“Oh come on, mate.”

“I’m not your fucking
mate
,” I growled, mimicking his accent.

“You’re being dramatic.” I didn’t know if I hated him more because he thought I was overreacting or because he was still fucking laughing. “I get waxed all the time.”

“Then get
your
ass on that table ‘cause I sure as shit ain’t.”

“Um, so you don’t want to continue?” Janie asked, looking confused as she held up the wax strip that I was sure had half my body organs stuck to it.

“No, lady, I most certainly fucking don’t.”

“You have to!” Ryder chipped in. “You’re uneven.”

“You’re lucky your fucking face isn’t uneven right now.”

Glancing timidly to the floor, Janie popped her spatula back into the pot of wax. “I’ll, um, leave you to get dressed.”

By this point I didn’t even care that I was standing in the middle of the room with my junk and patchy balls on display. She went to leave the room but turned, grabbing a small box from one of the shelves. She passed it to me, looking anywhere but down. “Aloe Vera lotion,” she rushed out, her voice quiet. “It soothes the sting and prevents any rashes from occurring.”

She’d bolted through the door before I could respond.

“Rashes? What the fuck have you done to me, dude? Not only do I look ridiculous I’ve got to put up with my balls feeling like they’re on fire all night!”

“You’ll be fine. That’s what the cream’s for.” Ryder’s laughter had faded but only because he was too busy tapping out a message on his cell. “By the way, Sawyer says you took it like a pro.”

“You sent it to Saw?”
What the fuck?

“And Jake, Mase, Elle…”

“You’re dead to me, dude.” I wriggled back into my clothes like it was an Olympic sport and yanked the door open so vehemently I’m surprised I didn’t rip it from its hinges. “I’ll get you back for this. You’ve just declared war.”

I pounded my feet into the ground with each step I took to the car. Ryder followed, his cheeks a beaming shade of red from the exertion of laughing so hard.
Motherfucker.

“So, your date,” Ryder mentioned as I drove through my gates. He spoke so normally, as if he wasn’t a total douchebag.

“Pretty sure I don’t need your advice anymore. What’s your next suggestion? That I should take him to a
who can fit the biggest cactus up their ass
contest?”

“You need to chill out. It was a joke not a dick. Don’t take it so hard.”

“Maybe I’ll forget about it when my balls stop feeling like they’ve been dipped in acid. Was that chick even qualified? I feel violated. Was the whole thing
seriously
a goddamn joke?”

“My initial comment was a joke. But then you fell for it and it kinda spiraled. Now man the fuck up and concentrate on the important issue here. Your date.”

He was right. Tonight was important and so, for now, I would put aside what a jackass he was and figure out a plan to avenge him on behalf of my poor testicles another time.

Only after thinking about the things I liked to do did I realize how boring I was. I didn’t have any particular hobbies or interests; I’d been too busy with my career to forge any.

“Ugh,” I grumbled. “We’re gonna end up eating pizza in front of the TV at this rate.”

Lounging by the pool, Ryder sipped on a mocktail he’d concocted behind my bar. “What’s your favorite thing to do in the whole world?”

“Fuck.”

“What’s wrong?”

“No, fuck. I like to fuck. That’s my favorite thing.”

Rolling his eyes, Ryder set his glass down on the table next to his lounger with a clink. “You need to think with your head right now.”

I shrugged. “Just being with Alex. That’s the thing I look forward to most every day.”

“Then you have your answer. You don’t need to put on a big show for him. Do something that’s just the two of you. Why not cook for him here?”

I extended my arm, offering my hand for him to shake. “Hi, I’m Matt.”

“Okay then
hire
someone to come and cook for you.”

“Guess
you’re
running out of ideas now, too.”

I promised Alex something special and in my book, special meant unique. Something we hadn’t done before. I don’t know how or why it came to me but once again my mom gave me guidance. “I’ve got it!” I shrieked, jolting upright and swinging my legs off the edge of my sun lounger.

“I remember, years ago, my mom telling me about the night she realized she was in love with my dad. They toured Europe for a couple of months and one night they camped out on a beach in the south of France. I remember at the time thinking it sounded so lame. No music. No people. No excitement. But I get it now. All that other stuff is a distraction. I want Alex. Just Alex.”

“Sounds perfect,” Ryder said, a warm smile dancing on his lips.

A cloud of enthusiasm ballooned in my stomach. “Where can I buy a picnic?”

“Um…pretty sure you
make
a picnic.”

“P and J sandwiches are the height of my culinary skills.” I sighed, deflated. I was running out of time.

“Then you should make them.”

“They’re hardly special,” I argued.

“They will be to Alex because
you
made them. You need to remember you and Alex have lived very different lives. In your world you can have whatever you want whenever you want.”

“So can Alex. I’ll give him anything he wants.”

“Nah, mate, you’re missing the point. If anything I think Alex probably feels inadequate at times because he can’t give you the things you’re used to.”

“That’s ridiculous.”
Isn’t it?
“He’d have told me.”

Ryder raised his eyebrows and cocked his head. “Would he? Can’t be an easy thing to admit.”

Just the idea that he could feel that way made my chest hurt. Suddenly, I became determined that by the end of the night Alex would know beyond a doubt that he was everything I needed.

“We’ve gotten off track,” Ryder said. “What I’m trying to say is Alex doesn’t need fireworks and diamonds to make him feel special. He’s a simple guy who likes simple things. He knows, hell everyone knows, that you’ve probably fucked more puppies than the number of times you’ve used your kitchen. So-”

“That happened
once
and it wasn’t my fault.”

“So the…wait,
what?
”

“I woke up and it was licking my dick! I’m not some kind of dog rapist.”

“What the hell?”

“Isn’t that what you were referring to?”

“
No
. I just made up an analogy. Assuming you’d never actually fucked a puppy and yet it was still more times than you’d used a kitchen appliance. It’s not funny now I’ve had to explain it.”

“Not true, either.”

“So you
have
fucked a puppy?”

“
No,
fuckwad, I have
not
fucked a goddamn puppy. Or any other animal for that matter. Unless you count that French chick backstage in Chicago.” I shuddered at the memory. “She had more hair on her nipples than my grandfather. She smelt like him, too.”

“So why’d you have sex with her?”

I shrugged. “Any hole’s a goal. At least it was back then. Anyway what I meant was, I
have
used my kitchen. Just last week in fact.”

“Oh yeah?” Genuine surprise widened Ryder’s eyes.

“I made pasta. There’s some on the ceiling above the couch if you need proof.”

“Why the hell is there…you know what, I don’t even wanna know. Let’s screw the analogy, my point is you’re a shite cook.” I opened my mouth to protest but closed it again, knowing he was right. “So the fact you’ve gone to the effort of making something for Alex, even something as simple as a sandwich, will blow him away. I’ll help you with the rest. I make a mean potato salad.”

“I’m gonna need one of those baskets with plates and shit in the lid. And blankets. Oh, shit, and a tent. I need a tent. How the fuck do you put up a tent?”

Draining the last of his drink, Ryder put down his glass again and jumped to his feet. “I’m on it.”

“Shouldn’t I come, too?”

“If you do it will take twice as long. We haven’t got time to stop for photos and all that jazz if we’re going to get everything set up in time. But don’t worry, I’ll take you in spirit…through your credit card.”

Nodding, I teased my wallet from my back pocket and handed it to him. “I’ll just stay here then and moisturize my sore balls.”

“Really? We still on that?”

“We’ll be on that until I’ve exacted my revenge, motherfucker.”

Laughing, Ryder pulled on his baseball cap, the visor covering the back of his neck, and walked back into the house.

“Oh and Ry?” I called. Holding onto the sliding door, he craned his neck into the outside air. “Thank you.”

“Just call me Cupid,” he said, winking before disappearing from sight.

When Ryder left, I applied way too much lotion to the naked strip on my ball sac. It felt liked I’d pissed my pants as I foraged for peanut butter in my kitchen. With the ingredients laid out on the mahogany island, a flurry of nerves rained down on me.
What if he’s expecting more?
As I smothered the slices of bread with the peanut butter, I almost talked myself out of my master plan. The only thing that kept me going is the fact that, with just hours to go, I couldn’t think of an alternative.

When I’d finished preparing the sandwiches I cut them into triangles, because that’s how my mom always served them. Initially, I attempted to seal them in Saran wrap but after a ten minute battle and a heap of expletives, I went with aluminum foil. I popped them in the fridge and then headed upstairs to pack some things.

The beach I had in mind was only accessible through a residential area so I substituted toothpaste for gum and shower gel for body spray. It was only one night so I didn’t find it too big of a deal. I packed a change of clothes, my meds and some blankets I didn’t even know I owned.
Thanks, Mom.
Thankfully, Alex had clothes and his medication at my place, too, because I didn’t have a key for his apartment; he always came here. I was grateful because I couldn’t tell him to pack a bag. I wanted everything to be a surprise.