Hard Beat

“Well, you got the screwing part down pat.” I make a show of looking up and down her body, connecting the dots I don’t want to connect: same clothes, different floor of the hotel, a tired woman. She spent the night with someone else. “It seems you like to play with all the boys on the block, huh?” The words are out of my mouth before I can see through my disregard for her. Sure, I don’t want anything more from her, but at the same time, my ego is bruised to think she didn’t think more of me – or any other man for that matter – to at least wait a day before moving to the next warm bed.