The Intern: Tyler, The Creator

26. Hickies

Monday

I was eager for Tyler to show up.

I just wanted to see him.

I looked at the clock, 10:25.

Five more minutes.

He walked in, stopping to talk to Maribel about his meetings as he always did when he first got in.

I adjusted myself on the seat, Tyler walked to my desk.

"You didn't do a good job hiding it." He spoke.

Confused, I looked down at my chest.

The purple bruise peeking through the concealer.

Before I could reply, Tyler left.

I made my way over to bathroom quickly, looking at it in the mirror. Fuck.

"What was that?" Emily walked in.

I quickly buttoned up my shirt.

"What?"

"The whole Tyler scene back there," she smirked.

"I have no idea what you're talking about," I looked at her through the mirror. She walked closer.

"Did you fuck him?"

"Oh my god Emily."

"Cmon, you can tell me. I just need some kind of drama so sink my teeth into. It's boring here."

I laughed.

"You did didn't you?! Nia!" She nudged me.

"I never said I did!"

"I'll buy lunch." She smirked.

I sighed, "Fine."

...

Emily had picked some vegan spot a block away from work for lunch. I did feel the need to decompress and tell at least someone.

We ordered our food, Emily and I getting some kind of bland salad and iced coffee to go with it. We sat in one of the outdoor seats.

"So..." She smirked at me, all giggly.

I rolled my eyes jokingly.

"It's really that obvious?" I replied.

"Yes. Yes it is. That fucking hickey tells me everything."

I laughed, covering it up with my hand.

"It wasn't even a big deal...all I did was go over to his place to organize some of his stuff—,"

"Organize?" She asked, confused.

"Yeah, I organize shit as a side job apparently; but that's besides the point. Anyway, Bella was gone and once I finished...we...and that was it." I half-whispered the last part.

"You missed literally every single detail," she sipped her coffee, amused.

I sighed.

"Was it good?" She asked again.

I smiled lightly, looking down at my drink.

"He ate me out so good." I whispered, giggling.

Emily let out a laugh, trying to contain herself.

"What happened after the sex? Was it awkward?" She asked, coming in closer across the table. She was so into it.

"That was it. I literally got my stuff and I just left..." I looked down at my cup. Immediately, I changed my tone, realizing I was showing signs that maybe I felt something more. "But it was fun! It felt good to just jump into something like that."

Emily smiled.

"Did Maribel tell you how she was in a thing with him too..." I asked.

"Yeah. Her and Tyler were at Daniel's christmas party and they were both really drunk apparently. That's all I know," she shrugged.

"She looks really into Tyler." I replied.

"I mean obviously she still has a thing for him. It's that flirty thing they got going on."

"What about you?" I asked.

"What about me?"

"Have you...with Tyler?"

Emily chuckled, sitting back into the chair.

"I can't. I'm married."

I furrowed my eyebrows, confused. She didn't seem like the type.

"I married my college boyfriend," she scoffed. "I love him...but it's like, I shouldn't have. I didn't even get to experience any of the shit you're doing now. I was 23 when I got married."

"My age..." I lifted my brows, the thought of marriage was so far beyond my reach.

"But I definitely would've fucked Tyler if I wasn't, if that's what you're asking." She let out a laugh.

"He's something else," I spoke under my breath.

"By the way, the office christmas party is coming up. Next month, but still. Think of bringing a cute date."

"Y'all do christmas parties?"

"Yeah, everyone brings their date. There's booze, food, everyone's drunk. We interchange presents and stuff. It's fun."

"I'll think about it."

...

It was the end of the day, Tyler calling me into his office so I could get some of the signatures I needed from him.

I took a seat.

"So I need your signature on these checks and I also need you to read this..." I looked up to find him staring at my neck.

"I shouldn't have done that." He eyed it.

I moved my shirt to try and hide it again.

"It's purple as fuck," he replied again.

"It's fine."

"How was it?"

"How was what?" I asked.

"The sex. Was it what you wanted?" He asked so nonchalantly; as if he had experience asking this type of questionnaire to every girl he's ever fucked just to get feedback.

"You wanna talk about this right now?"

"Nah, you right. It's out of pocket—,"

"I want to do it again." I interrupted.

He seemed taken a back by my sudden response.

"Does that answer your question?" I joked.

He chuckled, picking up the pen and signing the papers.