Breakfast is difficult. I make us toast and eggs and bring it to her on the roof. My roof is slanted, but we crawl out the window and kind of lounge on it. It’s sunny. Jules compliments the eggs but keeps it on that level until she’s done eating. The way she’s sitting—with her back straight up, her neck high, an extension of that perfect posture—she looks like a queen—or a princess. She doesn’t eat her toast. She eats two eggs, that’s it. Part of her orange juice.
Later on we’ll go to the arboretum, the botanical gardens, in Cincinnati. We’ll call Chad and MJ, and Brooklyn will be able to come, and the five of us will squeeze into my car and drive all the way down there. We’ll steal flowers from the garden and get kicked out for acting silly, then we’ll all cram inside a telephone booth and take a picture. Jules and I will be happy. We’ll get Indian food and she’ll have her hand so much in my lap she’s practically jerking me off at the table.
That will happen later. Now, however, on the roof, as Jules lies back and we’re both lying on the shingles, I’m just hoping that not Ashley, or Brit, or Meredith Carter, or any other of the girls I’ve been with—or who are just friends—stop by. This doesn’t happen often. But it does happen. I live one block from the coffeehouse, one block from the bars..so people do stop by. And yes, sometimes, in the past, when those people have been drunk, fucking has occurred. It’s not happening anymore, but—
“I shouldn’t have gotten mad,” she says.
I look at Jules. She looks peaceful. She’s squinting up at the trees, at the sun through them. I’m quiet, letting her have the time if she wants to say more, but she doesn’t.
“I will make it very clear with her,” I say. “I’ll call her on the phone. I’ll tell her she cannot stop by. I’ll tell her she can’t come here.”
“It’s ok,” she says. She rolls over and lays her arm across me, and kisses me. “As long as you’re only with me.”
We kiss some more.
“But that’s good,” she says, grinning, “Because I don’t, want, her, coming over here.”
Then she grabs my dick, through thin sweatpants, and we have to go inside.