Page 32 of Exchange of Heart

‘I think it’s all under control, actually.’ I sipped my cocktail and watched on with excited eyes.

I’d never seen a fight between a man and a man in a woman’s body. This was bound to be interesting. History in the making. I should record and submit it to scientists and psychologists around the world to have every moment analysed.

‘Gah.’ The bartender scrunched her face and turned back to them, just in time to duck from the glass flying her way.

It shattered against the wall behind her, and green liquid trickled down to the beat of my hard-working heart. Things were getting interesting, and I didn’t want to miss a second of it. I picked up my drink and spun to face them.

‘Move,’ I ordered the couple in front of me as they tried to edge away from the fight.

‘Say it again,’ Corey yelled in my high-pitched voice.

Normally, a voice like that wasn’t very intimidating, but rage reached from wall to wall as the men shuffled to the back corner. I reached blindly behind for a handful of peanuts and started chomp-ing on them like popcorn. The two remaining booths cleared as Corey stepped closer to the man’s scarred eyebrow. The way he made my brown eyes gleam maniacally, transforming my delicate features into what could only be described as borderline crazy was – well – impressive. Even I was a little scared of the way he held my face.

With a strength I didn’t realise my body possessed, his hand gripped the man’s flannel shirt and shoved him against the peeling paint. ‘Still think I’m cute?’ Corey sneered.

‘I’m sorry.’ The man raised his hands in surrender.

I sighed at how quickly the guy gave up considering this was the most exciting thing to happen this week that didn’t directly involve me. Only my body.

‘Say it louder,’ Corey insisted.

‘I’m sorry,’ the man yelled.

‘Now, apologise to the entire bar for causing a scene.’

I don’t know who he was meant to be apologising to, considering everyone had bailed.

‘I’m sorry.’ His pathetic shaved head turned around the room, his gaze catching the bartender.

She sighed, ‘Let him go.’

‘Told you it was under control.’ I spun back to her and bit the chunk of pineapple perched on the rim of my glass.

She shook her brown curls side to side, picked the cloth back up, and continued to wipe down the bench in silence.

Corey climbed onto the bar stool next to me, panting. He grabbed my cocktail and slurped the remaining liquid through the soggy paper straw. ‘Not bad for a five-foot-two data analyst, eh?’

‘I’ll need to channel my inner Corey once I get my body back.’ I nodded, quietly grateful he didn’t include the word ‘junior’ this time.

‘Oh yeah, I was going to the bathroom.’ He jumped off the stool and pushed open the door with the ladies’ symbol on it.

The idea of the men’s bathroom in this place had me squeezing my legs together, which came with its own issues considering the flacid flesh couldn’t be pressed too hard. In my short experience with a dick, I’d mastered peeing standing up without leaving urine over the seat and wished I could flaunt that skill to anyone who dared leave a single drop on the seat at work. I mean, honestly, men who can’t at least clean up after themselves should be forced to sit down, and there should be an alarm that alerts the office if the door opens while the seat is wet. Or a bathroom inspector. These drinks seemed to be making breach of privacy a distant thought. I really needed to stop.

Two hours later, we laid side by side on the sticky bar floorboards like discarded toys.

‘Hey, have you ah, done anything with your new addition?’ Corey asked.

I turned to face him, noticing he now had three eyes and two noses. Was his skin melting from his face?

‘Huh?’

‘You know.’ What might have normally been a regular laugh came out as a giggle. ‘Have you explored the manhood?’

My hands instantly flew to my groin. ‘No! Oh my god, have you? Have you been touching me?’

His lips, argh. They curled into a twisted smile that pummelled my stomach with his audacity. How dare he lay there and tell me he’d been fondling my most intimate areas. A mixture of curiosity and betrayal formed a WWE match in my chest, while I considered asking questions I may not want the answers to. Like, how did it feel? Did he like what he felt? Not that it mattered what he thought, but still, sometimes I wondered if I’d land in the top-ten listing of vaginas. Punching that insecurity to the ground, I focused on the matter at hand. I rolled until my body pressed against his side, nostrils flaring.

‘Wow, you wanna roll a little further and take it to the next level?’ He eyed where my groin pressed against his side.