Good Karma (36 page)

Mark snapped out of his mental turmoil and
guzzled another chug of water then wiped his mouth. “Hell no. You
know how this works for me. No commitments. No emotional
attachments. Nothing long term. Remember?”

“Yeah, I remember.” Rob sat back and leaned
against the chain link fence. “Do you?”

Mark blew out a frustrated breath. “Fuck you,
man. I haven’t forgotten what this is about.”

“Whatever.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means that you’ve grown cozy enough with
your new leading lady to tell her about the one woman who started
this whole long list of affairs and who cut you down so viciously
you drowned yourself in vodka for months before getting your shit
together.” Rob groaned. “Are you kidding me, man? You don’t tell
any of them about Carol, and you told
her
? You’re walking a
slippery slope, buddy. I hope you know that.”

Mark shoved his water bottle into his bag.
“I’m not walking a slippery slope. I told Karma this isn’t a
forever thing. I know what I’m doing. She’s just…different.” Mark
wiped his towel over the back of his neck. “She comes from the same
place you and I did. She’s like us.”

Rob’s narrowed eyes studied him. “What do you
mean, ‘she’s like us’?”

Mark picked up the ball and squeezed it
between his palms. “When she was a kid, she was bullied in school
like we were. She was teased and called names. She went through
hell. Just like we did.”

Rob relaxed a little. “Okay. So?”

“So…I trust her. That’s all. She understands.
She can relate to what I went through. It’s a…”
connection
.
He wanted to say he and Karma had connected, but that would set Rob
off again, and, to be honest, Mark wasn’t ready to admit that out
loud. “It’s just nice to be able to talk to someone who comes from
a similar background. Is that a crime?”

Rob shrugged and shook his head but didn’t
say anything.

Mark got up and dribbled the ball a couple
times. “So, maybe it
was
stupid to tell her about Carol.
Maybe I
did
open up too much. My mistake. But at the time, I
was trying to get
her
to open up, so I used my past with
Carol to convince her she could talk to me and work with me. It was
necessary to get the job done. That’s all.”

That was a lie. Mark had told Karma about
Carol because he wanted to. In the moment he had let his guard down
and spilled more than he should have. But that didn’t mean their
relationship was turning into anything more than just another
affair.

It was another lie, because it did feel like
his relationship with Karma was way more than just an affair.

But it wasn’t like he owed Rob an
explanation. Hell, he didn’t need to justify his actions to
anyone.

Shit. That was a lie, too. With Karma, he was
so far out of his league, seemingly rewriting the terms of
engagement as he went, that he felt like he had to justify himself
to himself
for breaking his own rules. Damn it. He liked
Karma more than he wanted to. Rob was right. He was walking a
slippery slope.

Mark paced away then turned back, determined
to regain control. “Well, like I said, I didn’t tell her
everything.”

Rob stood and stretched his arms. “What? Like
you didn’t tell her about how Carol jilted you? Left you at the
altar. How she ran off and fucked—”

Mark winced and threw out his hand to cut Rob
off. “I don’t need a recap, Rob. Okay? Shit!” The mental image of
finding Carol with Antonio nearly made him gag. Even after all this
time, the memory still affected him. Why? Because he had failed. He
hadn’t been enough. Never again would he let that happen.

Rob hitched his hands on his hips and looked
down. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”

How could he be angry with Rob? The guy had
come as close to sharing blood with him as two people could get.
Rob had earned the right to get in Mark’s face and give him a piece
of his mind…and to lay shit out unfiltered.

“Look. Let’s just play, all right?” Mark
dribbled out to the court and shot a three-pointer.

And sank it.

Whoosh!

Thank God.

Rob nodded. “Okay, but don’t mess shit up.
Leave Carol in the past where she belongs, and get yourself
straight about this Karma girl. I don’t want to see you getting so
fucked up I have to drag your sorry ass out of the bottom of a vat
of vodka again. You got it?”

“It wasn’t
that
bad.” Thickness
settled in his throat, and he avoided Rob’s gaze. Those months
after Carol devastated him had been rough, and vodka had been his
go-to companion.

“It was bad enough.” Rob took a shot and ran
in for his own rebound.

“Well, I’m not that person, anymore.” He
caught a pass from Rob. “That pity party ended five-and-a-half
years ago, okay?”

Rob shot him a dubious glance. “Fine. Just
keep it that way.”

“Don’t worry about me. I’ve got it under
control. I always do.” As he faked and drove toward the basket, he
thought he heard Rob murmur, “Yeah, that’s what I’m worried about,”
but he didn’t pursue it. This conversation was over.

Mark was done talking about Carol and bad
memories. He wanted to think forward.

What was Karma doing right now? Was she
thinking about him?

Because, damn him, he couldn’t stop thinking
about her.

Chapter 30

Experience
is what you get while looking for something else.

-Federico Fellini

Karma surreptitiously scanned the titles on the
Relationships and Sexuality shelves at Barnes & Noble. Who
would have thought there would be a whole rack for everything from
the Kama Sutra to Tantric Sex to how to perform a quickie or go
down on a man…or a woman? Not to mention all the anthologies of
erotica and several surprisingly thick volumes of
Letters to
Penthouse
. Word porn was alive and well.

As she browsed, she recognized a couple of
the books Mark had given her. The papaya book was here, as was the
War and Peace
of sexual manuals she was still working her
way through. That monster book had to be at least a thousand pages
long and covered everything. No topic was off limits. Toys, lubes,
penis types (apparently there were many different types of
penises…and each type could stimulate a woman differently),
S&M, different kinds of condoms, vibrators, cock rings, and so
much more. She was becoming quite the expert.

Mark would be proud.

As for her progress in Flirt Quest, however,
that was another story.

Her first foray into the realm of Flirt Quest
hadn’t gone well. Saturday night, after Pilates class, she had gone
to the supermarket with the sole intent of striking up a
conversation with a man. She ended up knocking over a display of
Kraft Macaroni and Cheese.

Smooth.

Too embarrassed and nervous to try again, she
had skipped out on Flirt Quest yesterday. She had made a personal
goal with herself to talk to a new man every day so now she was a
day behind. Thankfully, Mark hadn’t called or texted to check on
her progress, but that wouldn’t last forever. He was bound to
contact her soon, which meant she would stay out all day if she had
to, to get caught up and impress him with her efforts.

But first…books.

Her eyes lit on a book titled,
Blow Him
Away: How to Give Him Mind-Blowing Oral Sex
. Oh, she had to
give this one a peek. She had always sucked at sucking. Or was that
blowing? Ugh. See? She sucked at the blow. She wasn’t even sure of
the lingo.

The contents looked promising. There was a
chapter on how to use her tongue, another on the anatomy of the
penis, another titled “Becoming a Fellatrix.” Hmm. Interesting. She
flipped through and saw a few diagrams. Okay, this was a keeper,
especially since it looked like she and Mark were ramping toward
the big moment. She needed to be ready.

After spending almost a half-hour flipping
through several of the other books, she ended up choosing one of
the volumes of
Penthouse
letters, an anthology of erotica,
The Joy of Sex
, a book of 365 sexual positions (were there
really that many?), a book that dove into the sexual lives of
people in America, and a second book on giving blow jobs—she needed
all the help she could get giving head if she was going to impress
Mark with her virgin lips.

Mission one accomplished. She had the next
month’s reading material.

Now she needed to find today’s Flirt Quest
man, as well as one makeup assignment.

With her books cradled in the crook of her
arm, she ventured off. An artsy type browsed through the reference
books, and a guy who looked like he would be more comfortable under
a car than in a bookstore was working his way through the
magazines. He stopped and, yep, picked up
Road & Track
.
The prospects didn’t look good.

Then she turned and saw a not-unattractive,
mid-to-late-thirtyish, salt-and-peppered man scouting out the
Science Fiction. He wore dark denim, a tan button-down, and those
dark brown shoes that looked like a cross between gym trainers and
hiking boots. He didn’t look as buff as Mark, but he looked healthy
and in shape. In short, he was a good prospect.

Glancing around, she took a deep breath and
made her approach. Maybe she could avoid making a fool out of
herself this time.

Pretending to be looking at book titles, she
scooted closer…and a little closer.

He glanced her way, and she smiled.

“Excuse me.” She reached in front of him for
a random book.

He stepped back. “Sure.”

She blushed and backed away, averting her
gaze, but not before she saw him smile again.

For a moment, she didn’t say anything, just
nervously flipped through the pages of the book she’d picked up.
Okay, she needed to make conversation. What should she ask him?
Maybe a book recommendation? No, that was stupid.

“Have you ever read this author?” she asked,
and held the book up.

He nodded. “Actually, yes. I love his work.
You’ve never read Neil Gaiman?”

“No.”

“Do you like science fiction? Horror?” The
man had a nice smile and kind, brown eyes. If she hadn’t been
involved with Mark, she might have been interested.

“I’m more a romance reader,” she said. “But
I’m trying to branch out and read something new.” Wow, this was
already much better than Saturday night’s mac and cheese
incident.

He smiled down at her. He was taller than
Mark, but not by much. “He’s one of my favorite authors. His books
are amazing. He may not be Stephen King, but he’s got a huge
following.”

“Oh?” She looked at the book she’d picked up.
“Sounds like just the something new I’m looking for then.”

The man’s gaze shifted to the stack of books
in her arm. His smile quirked, and he quickly averted his gaze and
chuckled. “Uh…um….” He chuckled again and fidgeted as if he had an
itch on his butt, and then glanced back at her books.

She looked down. The blow job book was on the
top of her stack. The words “Blow Him” in large, red letters jumped
off the cover.

“Oh God. Oh, these…” She quickly turned the
book over, her face in flames. “This is just, ah…a um…a special
project.” She slammed her eyes closed. Special project? What? Was
she on a blow job crusade? “That came out wrong. I meant I’m doing
some research…” Research? In how to give a good blow job? Okay, so
that wasn’t any better. She sighed and looked up. “Would you
believe these are a gag gift for a friend?”

He was trying not to smile, but failing. “Is
that what you want me to believe?”

Feeling like a piece of toilet paper stuck to
the bottom of a shoe, she nodded. “Sure, uh-huh. That would be
great.” She waved the Neil Gaiman book in the air. “Thanks for the
book recommendation.” She placed it on top of her stack, turned,
and escaped Science Fiction faster than the U.S.S. Enterprise
entered warp speed.

She figured she could hide in Nonfiction for
a while, at least until she recovered.

Flirt Quest was officially a nightmare. She
was two for two. Two complete crash-and-burns out of two attempts.
And this one included an embarrassing penis reference. Great.
Smooth. Maybe Mark would take pity on her when she told him how
miserably she was failing and cancel this assignment before it
killed her. Cause of death: humiliation.

With her eyes buried in the spines of all the
new releases in nonfiction, she saw another shopper approach out
her peripheral vision. She began to get out of the way.

“We just keep bumping into each other.”

She turned and looked up. It was the man from
the science fiction aisle.

“Oh, um. Yes. I guess we are.” She checked to
make sure Mr. Gaiman was still covering her
Blow Him
book.
He was.

The man cleared his throat and pretended to
be interested in the books on the shelf, but she could tell he
wasn’t. Had he come looking for her? Was he hoping she would give
him
a blow job?

“My name’s Brad, by the way.” His gaze
flickered to hers.

“I’m Karma.”

“Nice to meet you, Karma.” He cleared his
throat again and pulled a book off the shelf and opened the
cover.

“You, too, Brad.” She looked away, fidgeting.
She couldn’t take any more humiliation today. “Well, I should be
going.” She pointed to the registers.

“Yeah. Yeah. Me, too.” Brad set the book back
on the shelf, smiled, and lifted the two Sci-Fi books he’d grabbed
earlier.

She began to walk away, but Brad stopped her.
“Um, wait. I was wondering…”

She turned. “Yes?”

“Would you like to have a cup of coffee or
dinner sometime?”

Shut the front door! He was asking her out?
Was this for real?

“Oh, um…wow.” She didn’t have a lot of
experience in the getting-asked-out department. What should she
say? Yes? No? Maybe?