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"I don't know Tokyo," she says.
"You've been here before. "
"Only for a semester," I say. "Only some of it in Tokyo. "
"I don't care about the city," I tell her. And I mean it. "I want to hang out with you. So, show me around. "
"Fine. On one condition," she says.
"What?"
"Put me the hell down so everyone in the lobby doesn't see my ass when the door opens. "
"Deal. " I cup a handful of her ass for good measure, and feel the lace thong she's wearing. "Panties again?"
She drops to the ground, and slaps me playfully on the arm. "It was a work dinner," she says. "You think I was going to go commando? That's kind of sketchy, isn't it?"
"It's not a work dinner anymore," I tell her. "So those are coming off. "
But the elevator dings, and the doors slide open. Delaney smiles triumphantly. "Saved by the bell," she says, as she walks out ahead of me. She doesn't consult the concierge this time, just walks out the door. "Okay. Let's do it. "
We sit across from each other in a crowded izakaya in Shibuya, after passing a million little bars and restaurants that showcase plastic versions of their foods in the windows. Gaige sips his beer and laughs, his eyes crinkling at the edges, and the sound is infectious. He's relaxed, for the first time in weeks, and I finally feel calm, away from Chelsea and work and the hotel and everything. The izakaya is crowded, yet it feels like Gaige and I are the only two people in the room.
"You love it here," Gaige says.
"Yeah," I tell him. "I was here for a semester. Not in Tokyo, really. I mean, I traveled, but I was mostly down south. Just enough time to fall in love but not enough time to really let the little things start to annoy me, you know?"
Gaige sips his beer and looks at me. "Kind of like us. "
My heart practically stops and I take a long gulp of my chu-hi, a drink made from soda and shochu, but tastes dangerously just like plain soda. "You do plenty of things to annoy me," I say, assuring myself that Gaige was simply making a silly comparison that meant nothing.
"Yet you're still here with me, and about to spend the weekend with me," he says, popping a piece of sashimi into his mouth. "You only pretend to hate me. "
"I never hated you," I protest.
Gaige groans. "Are you kidding?" he asks. "Hate isn't even nearly accurate. Loathe my very presence would be far more accurate. "
I laugh. "When did I loathe your presence?"
"Well, definitely not last night," he says, grinning. "But remember the first summer after our parents got married?"
"I was seventeen," I say. "I hated everything. "
"Especially me. "
"You were a jerk, with your stupid friends who thought they were better than everyone. And the stupid girls you dated and brought home all the time –"
"You just hated to see me with anyone else," Gaige says. He crosses his hands over his chest and looks so damn smug, so sure of himself as he sits there staring at me, that I want to throw my drink at him. Instead, I kick him under the table and he just laughs. "You're mad because you know it's true. "
"I'm mad because you were a complete tool and you know it," I say. But I can still remember the pang of irritation I'd get when Gaige would parade his floozies through the house like he owned the place. I hated him.
I might have also loved him.
Maybe this whole thing is just one long continuation of how I felt when I was seventeen. I thought that being with him would get him out of my system, but it seems to be having the opposite effect. It's made me want him more of him – more time with him, more everything. And wanting someone like Gaige – someone who doesn't stay with one girl -- is dangerous.
I watch as he dips his gyoza into sauce and then pops the dumpling in his mouth, and I try to remind myself that this thing with us is just sex. Sure, it's good sex. Amazing sex. Curl-my-toes and call-my-girlfriends sex. But that's all it can be. Even if my father had some kind of personality transplant that made him suddenly approve of this train wreck of a relationship, it's Gaige. Gaige with women constantly throwing themselves at him. Gaige, the consummate flirt.