September sausage fest
I SLEPT WITH SHANE LINDLEY, AND I DON’T REGRET IT.
Because sex with Shane is sort of incredible.
Fine, no sort of about it.
Hands down, it was the best sex of my life. And now that this orgasm ball is in motion, I can’t stop it from rolling all over me. We’ve slept together every night for the past three days, although I’ve drawn the line at staying over because I’m not about to cuddle in bed with Shane Lindley like an actual couple. I’m strictly using him for…well, for so much, I’ve lost count.
I’m using him as a dance partner.
As my bodyguard for Percy.
As a dick provider.
Oh, and he’s a better reality show watcher than Gigi. He actually catches all the episodes. Gigi claims she doesn’t have time to watch an episode every single night because what kind of show requires that kind of commitment from their viewers, and to that I say a true fan makes the commitment. And Shane is proving himself to be a true fan. He’s strangely protective of Zoey. And not even because he wants to bang her! I asked, and he adamantly insisted she’s not his type.
On Sunday morning, I wake up to a familiar text. The same one I’ve received three days in a row now.
SHANE:
Morning sex?
I lazily type a response.
ME:
I can’t. HOA meeting.
SHANE:
Oh shit. Forgot about that. Get dressed. Meet you in the hall.
He’s coming to another meeting?
I suppose I don’t blame him. There’s literally no greater entertainment. I look forward to these meetings the way I imagine the bloodthirsty citizens of Rome poured into the Colosseum on alternate Sundays.
On our way to the Sycamore, I muse to Shane, “If my aunt hadn’t died, I’d never know the joys of Meadow Hill HOA meetings.”
“One, that’s macabre as fuck. And two, after the meeting—you, me, naked?”
“No, I have to go to work. But we will definitely be naked when I get back.” A groan slips out. “Oh my God, why am I like this? You and your stupid dicksand.”
“Dicksand?”
“Yeah, like quicksand. But your dick is the trap, and I’ve been sucked into it.”
“Wouldn’t your pussy be the quicksand ’cause it’s the one sucking my dick into it?”
We stare at each other for a moment.
“Why are we like this?” he sighs.
“I don’t know, but—wait, no, don’t say we. You. You are the weird one.”
Although the way that we get one another’s eccentricities is a tad unsettling. The last person I want to form a kindred weirdness connection with is Shane Lindley.
“Your ex isn’t going to be here, is he?” Shane asks as we enter the building.
My stomach drops at the mention of Percy.
It seems like I only manage to keep my anxiety at bay so long as I don’t allow myself to remember Percy exists. But then I see him on the path or someone brings him up, and the panic returns. In an instant, I feel that phantom pain in my eye, that suffocating tightness in my throat, and I remember I’m not the Diana I was a month ago.
I’m the Diana who lets a man hit her.
“Dixon?” Shane is oblivious to my inner turmoil.
“Oh, sorry. No, Percy’s not an owner. Renters aren’t allowed to attend these meetings.”
The conference room is full when we enter, but Priya saved my usual seat in the front row. I’m about to tell Shane he’s relegated to the back when, on Priya’s other side, Veronika pats the empty chair next to her and says, “Shane, I saved you seat.”
I reach down and give his butt a discreet slap. “Go get your cougar, tiger.”
“I hate you,” he mumbles.
We take our seats, and Brenda gets the meeting going with an agenda item I couldn’t care less about.
September Sausage Fest.
You’d think Shane would be as bored as I am, but to my total astonishment, my fake boyfriend and real lover becomes more animated than a teen girl gushing about her favorite pop star. He starts rambling about his favorite butcher in Boston and how if we really want to experience sausage, we need to talk to Gustav, who recently started selling a sweet Italian sausage flavored with fennel and garlic, which is almost as good as Gustav’s pork kielbasa, with its savory, slightly smoked taste.
“You know what,” Shane says, cutting himself off midsentence. “I think I should get added to the neighbors’ group chat. I’ll send all the details there.”
At the head table, Brenda eyes him with suspicion. “I thought you found group chats too stressful.”
“I’ve grown a lot since my last meeting. I feel confident I can handle the pressure of the group chat now.” He winks at Veronika, who giggles.
“I’ll add you.” Niall speaks up, albeit grudgingly. “But only because I like a good kielbasa.”
Shane grins at him. “Don’t we all, my man.”
Niall doesn’t smile back.
Since it’s impossible to get through an entire meeting without high drama, the shit hits the fan after Brenda opens the floor for concerns and complaints.
At the end of the front row, Carla shoots to her feet.
“I have a complaint. Enough is enough,” she tells the board. “She needs to be banned from the pool completely!”
Nobody has to ask who “she” is.
Veronika is quick to defend herself. “What? I deserve to swim as much as anyone else.”
“Do you know how she stares at my son Carl? He can’t go swimming anymore, he’s too anxious.”
“Maybe he isn’t anxious because of me but because his mother Carla is such a narcissist, she named her own child Carl.” Veronika folds her arms.
Shane tries to stop a laugh but fails, so it comes out as a wheezy snort.
Carla’s jaw drops. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
“Come on, it’s weird. We all think it’s weird, right?” Veronika asks the room.
“I hate to agree with Veronika,” Niall mutters, “but I have always thought that.”
“Ugh!” Carla groans. “I swear, if she doesn’t have limitations set on her, I’m leaving the building. I will move somewhere else. We can’t live with this tramp ruining our community day in and day out.”
“Carla,” Brenda says, “we have no way to expel Veronika from the pool. She already paid her fine, and she hasn’t broken any new pool regulations to warrant suspension.”
“Okay, fine,” Carla huffs. “I want to propose a new rule. Diana, can you put it in the minutes?”
“Yeah, of course.” I hastily flip to the next page of my minutes notebook.
“Motion to add a formal rule disallowing whores from being at the pool.”
“You know what?” Veronika screeches and lunges for Carla.
Carla screams in horror, jumping out of her chair and seeking safety behind the board members’ table. But Veronika keeps lunging, and now Brenda has her hands out between the two of them. Niall gets up to hold Veronika back, but she’s like a feral animal.
“That’s it!” I’ve never heard Brenda lose control, but she’s yelling at the whole room now. “The meeting is canceled today! I don’t know why we can’t get through one damn HOA meeting without a dire incident! Everyone, go home! Veronika, get off the freaking table!”
Shane and I shuffle outside. I have to hold on to his arm for support because I’m laughing too hard.
“I can’t believe that just happened!” Tears leak out the corners of my eyes.
“I never want to move out of this complex,” he says between deep, shuddering laughs.
Once we calm down, we step outside into the sunshine. The other neighbors are also scattering, pouring out of the Sycamore and disappearing down the path.
“I think you should blow off work,” Shane says. There’s no mistaking the heat in his eyes.
“No. That’s not how jobs work.”
“Fine. Do you want a ride?” he offers.
“Thank you, but I think I’ll walk. It’s such a nice day.”
“All right, catch you later.”
He leans in and I lean back.
“What was that?” I demand.
Shane blinks. “Oh my God. I was gonna kiss you goodbye.”
“Yeah, no. We’re not doing that.”
I’m giggling to myself as I leave for my shift at Della’s. On my lunch break, I check my phone to discover some activity in the neighbors’ chat. Niall, the traitor, followed through and added Shane, who’s already sent a few messages. Aw, look at him participating!
I work my magic.
ME:
Guys, Shane dropped his phone in the pool and it’s completely dead. And somehow he also lost all his messages and contacts and we don’t know if he’ll ever get them back.
YOU HAVE REMOVED SHANE LINDLEY FROM THE GROUP NEIGHBORS.
I instantly get a message from Shane.
SHANE:
Why won’t you let me have this!!
ME:
Because you want it too bad.
