The fucker tore up her insides.”“Fuck.”“Yeah.”“I understand.”“I love you, Joe. I’ll get over it. More than you, I think.”“I hope so.”“I think we can use this,” said Tash, seemingly about of the blue, especially the hint of excitement in her words.“Use what?” I asked.“The bar setting. The rites. The guilt.”“What do you mean?”“Well, we have an Indian. How destructive has firewater been to Indians?”“Okay. I actually have a story where old Indian gods get used for retribution.”“Of course you do,” Tash chuckled. “I’d like to read them both.”“Firewater,” Lindy contemplated. “So destructive. White Man’s destructiveness. You know Asians don’t assimilate alcohol well?”“I’ve heard,” I nodded, as did Tash.“Not White Man’s doing, because I’m certain, at least the Japanese have been drinking rice wine for centuries.”“But still,” I said.“Yes. And the black man.”“How does he compare?” I asked.“Drugs more than booze,” Lindy shrugged. “And I don’t know how true the stereotype may be, that black men. " I asked for his opinions and if he had found any issues, so far it was going perfect. I had no complaints either. Jordan and I talked about our day and he said, "I've been thinking about it earlier on the plane all day. I've honestly never experienced anything like it before." "Glad you enjoyed your surprise." "You should come up to my room after dinner. I want to be able thank you properly." I shrugged my shoulders and simply said, "We will see." As we got on the elevator, Jordan hit number three for his floor, and I hit five for mine. I wasn't planning on getting off at five, but didn't want show my hand too early." The elevator clicked upwards reaching the third floor. Jordan was shocked when I stepped off with him. "Thought you hit five?" "I did. I wanted to throw you off. I figured if I didn't hit five, you'd know I was going back with you. Then where's the surprise in that?" He wrapped his arm around me and I leaned into him. I leaned up against his door. He pressed his body.
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