You've Got Fail(11)



“Fuck!” I yanked up my shirt just in time. I came hard, her memory invading every thought and each noise from my lips.

When it was over I clenched my eyes shut. This couldn’t happen again. I’d have to go back to some other wank fantasy, because imagining Scarlet would lead to any number of sticky outcomes. Pun intended.



Three days later I sat in Linda’s sunny, cluttered office in a building that once served as a cannery. The brick walls still bore the imprint of the Candied Cans logo, replete with a swirling blue arrow and a bizarre chipmunk popping out from behind a can.

“She’s late.” I busied myself with responding to comments on my blog, my fingers flying over my laptop keys as I sat at a round table near the window. Linda had cleared half of the cluttered surface, barely leaving room for three people to sit. She’d already given me a contract addendum—one that allowed her to retain Scarlet’s services for our little venture. With much grumbling, I’d signed it.

“I bet she’s not even coming.” I tossed a glance at the door.

Linda was too engrossed in her phone to answer, so I kept working.

Melissa L.: Dear Scarlet, I showed my boyfriend your Analyzing Anal column and said we could try it. He refused and claimed he had a bad anal experience in college. After that, he wouldn’t even talk about it. What should I do?

Scarlet Rocket: Just like anal, secrets can’t be forced. They have to be caressed, massaged, and eventually stretched out until everything is open for dialogue. Clearly, your boyfriend has a hang-up that makes him uncomfortable. If you want to get to the bottom of it, start by telling him you won’t judge him, and that you want to know what he likes and dislikes in the bedroom, along with why. Remain non-confrontational and phrase things as gently as possible, preferably with light physical contact like hand-holding. If he still remains on lockdown, I’m afraid you’ll just have to leave the topic alone for a while.



I sent my reply and scrolled to the next question. Feminine laughter floated to my ears over the sounds of the street below and the secretary prattling away outside the door.

Though I perked up, I pretended to still be working on the blog. It’s completely normal to flex your biceps while you’re typing, right? After a brief knock, the door opened.

Scarlet walked in while throwing a comment over her shoulder. “I don’t think off-off-off Broadway is actually a thing.”

Behind her, a tall, familiar man strode in, an easy smile on his chiseled face. “Don’t hate.”

My fingers froze on the keys. Commander Reptilian. The star of my favorite sci-fi movie series leaned against the doorframe with uncanny ease. My inner fanboy squealed like a teenage girl, but the fact that he was flirting with Scarlet chipped away at my hero worship.

“Jason, I didn’t realize we had an appointment today.” Linda rose and air kissed each of them.

Scarlet wore a retro sun dress with big bursts of yellow flowers. Her pale skin paired perfectly with the fabric, and I found it hard to take my eyes off her, though inner fanboy demanded I keep my focus on the commander.

Jason handed Linda a sheaf of papers. “We don’t. I was in the neighborhood so I reckoned I’d drop off the contracts for the film instead of mailing them.” He had a Southern accent that, based on hard and fast scientific principles, was widely known to melt panties right off. What a cocknugget. Inner fanboy stares at me, aghast that I’d use such language to describe Commander Reptilian of the Vocknar Fleet.

Linda added the paper to the unwieldy stack that held sway over the nearest corner of her desk. “Fabulous. And I see you’ve met Scarlet.”

“She’s something.” He grinned, and they exchanged a familiar look.

Too fucking familiar.

I rose so fast I almost knocked my chair over. “Hi.” The word flew out, then died a slow and painful death as three pairs of eyes focused on me.

“Um, hey.” Jason held his hand out, and I shook it with a bit too much verve. “I’m Jason.”

“I saw every one of the Aliens Versus Vampires movies. I know you, Commander Reptilian.” Did I just say that? “I mean, I’m Willis.” Inner fanboy jumps and squees, perhaps pees a little.

He glanced to Scarlet, his blond locks shining in the sun. “Sparky?”

“That’s him.” She nodded, a faint smile pulling at the corners of her lips.

She’d been talking about me. Good. Or was that bad?

“I’ll let y’all get down to work.” He winked at Scarlet. “Nice to meet you, Ms. Rocket.”

Why the hell did he have to be nice on top of good looking? Douche! Fanboy cries.

“Later.” She gave him a dainty wave.

A creeping, oily feeling slithered its way through my gut. One I was barely acquainted with. I’d had girlfriends in the past, and a couple of them had actually complained that I never got jealous. Who was that non-jealous guy? Not me. Because, despite my love for the Aliens Versus Vampires franchise—and my hopes for an eighth installment starring Commander Reptilian—I had the insane urge to pummel his handsome, and notably non-reptilian, face. Never mind the implications of Jason flirting with Scarlet Rocket, who wasn’t even real, yet was also me, but was also this woman with the devilish smirk. It was like flirtation Inception. Flirtception?

I shook my head and blinked hard. Get your shit together, man.

Celia Aaron's Books