Donna Has Left the Building by Susan Jane Gilman

Author:Susan Jane Gilman
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: None
Publisher: Grand Central Publishing
Published: 2019-06-03T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter 12

For some reason, I’d imagined Zack living in an exposed brick loft in the heart of downtown Nashville, a wide-open industrial space tricked out with a black granite bar and a big neon guitar glowing on the wall. Yet his apartment turned out to be a unit in a housing complex outside of a town called Murfreesboro. Three long, low, identical buildings with stucco walls the color of old tube socks had dark timber nailed across their facades to give them a mock-Tudor look. A couple of pickup trucks and an old motorcycle sat parked outside. A sign wicketted into the lawn out front read MONTHLY RENTALS. NOW LEASING. When I climbed out of the Subaru, I could hear the roar of the interstate. Zack’s building was the one farthest from the road, abutting a wheat field. A metal staircase zigzagged up the side to a small second-story landing with a door. “Right up there in the corner. That’s my place.” He insisted on carrying both my suitcase and my guitar. “We’ll go through the lobby, though. Those stairs are sort of busted.”

I was let down by the feel of the place, though it barely registered. As we made our way up to his apartment, we could barely dare to look at each other or speak, the private hurricane brewing between us was gathering such velocity.

He pushed his front door open with his knee and set down my belongings with a flourish. “Welcome to the Zack Shack!”

The door opened directly into a small living room. All I glimpsed was a fat leatherette sofa and a giant, flat-screen TV with a gaming station that took up an entire wall like the control panel of a spaceship. Immediately, Zack pushed me up against a closet door and I grabbed him by his collar and we started kissing wolfishly. When I released him, his eyes were glittering.

“Shirt off,” I said. “Now.”

“Oh?” He laughed. But he wriggled out of his jacket and shirt, leaving them in a puddle on the linoleum. As we continued kissing, he guided me backward toward the couch, sloppily, in a loose, easy dance, his hands clamped to my hips like starfish. His tool belt kept flopping between us and digging into my stomach. He paused to unbuckle it and flung it on the floor beside a milk crate, where it landed with a clank.

“I can’t believe you’re actually wearing a tool belt. You’re, like, straight out of porn.”

“Ha! I knew you’d get a kick out of it. Why do you think I kept it on after my shift? It’s all for you, baby. Bow-chicka-bow-bow!” He pulled me toward him and yanked open the buttons of my blouse, exposing the lacy cups of my new blush-colored bra.

“Oh my God! Look at you, Bella. You are still a fucking goddess!” Lunging, he buried his head between my breasts. My eyes closed. I heard myself giggle.

“Carry me to the bed,” I commanded. I knew it sounded ludicrous, but Zack scooped me

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