"This will stay in place for the duration of the show, even if you need to move around."
Trixee leaned in close, her breath and perfume caressing my neck as she pressed the adhesive pad of the compact microphone next to my jugular.
"Why not just use a clip-on mic?"
The producer leaned away, robbing me of her closeness. "It's a sex advice show, Noah. Sometimes it gets a bit steamy in here." Then, satisfied with her work, Trixee patted my thigh and returned to the control room.
"Have you been on air before?" This question came from the studio's other occupant, Leanna.
"No," I confessed.
"You'll be fine," she assured me. "Once we go live it'll just be you and me, with Trixee screening the callers and their questions. It'll feel more like a small gathering of friends than a radio broadcast."
I wasn't likely to forget that tens of thousands of people listened to Leanna's Love Language, but the studio itself was indeed designed to be inviting. Leanna and I were seated on oversized loungers facing each other across a thick rug. The walls featured sound-deadening foam and shelves loaded with books on sex therapy and erotic literature. Here and there a framed photo or nicknack gave the studio a lived-in feel.
Trixee made a sign from fifteen feet away in the control room.
Leanna acknowledged her producer. "We're almost live. I'll introduce the show, you, and then you and I will chat. We'll take callers only after we've shared your situation." She smiled.
I smiled back. Leanna looked little like her avatar used on the station's web page and social media. There, she's shown with red hair spilling in waves past her neck and over generous cleavage. And like a naughty librarian, she's depicted wearing heavy glasses over which she gazes at the viewer with more than a hint of mischief in her smile.
In real life, she was a brunette, wasn't wearing glasses, and her expression was more serious than naughty. But her cleavage wasn't exaggerated.
The light goes green.
"Good afternoon, Lovers," Leanna purred. "You're listening to Leanna's Love Language, your source for sex advice, stories, and support. As always I'm joined by my faithful producer Trixee. Remind us, Trix, you getting any lately?"
"I. Am. Not," Trixee said airily. "No lack of offers, though."
"No one who sees you in that cute pink top would doubt that, Trix."
Trixee grinned, her dimples making an appearance. She stood briefly, turning to showcase her petite body for Leanna and me.
"And we're joined by a special guest today," Leanna continued. "I have in the studio with me Noah, a regular listener to the show and, as it turns out, someone with an interesting problem that I bet more than a few of our listeners can relate to. Welcome to the show, Noah."
"Thank you."
"Trix," Leanna said, looking toward her producer, "how often do we have in-studio guests?"
"Not often. Four times a year? Five?"
"So, Noah should feel special?"
"He
is
special!" Trixee insisted, giving me a wink. "Why him, though? Why bring him in?"
"That's a fair question, Trix," Leanna said. "When Noah wrote to us about his situation I was intrigued. When I followed up the mystery only deepened, so I thought he'd be perfect for an in-studio visit."
"Or you just wanted to chat up a cute guy."
It was Leanna's turn to wink. "Mmmaybe, Trix. Maybe." She turned her attention back to me. "You've been listening to our show for a while, right?"
"At least three years."
"I'm flattered," Leanna says, pressing a hand against her bosom. "What keeps you coming back?"
"The vibe that you and Trixee share. It's fun. The advice seems authentic, too. Like, you aren't just quoting from someone's book. It's from personal experience."
"I'm not shy that I love sex," Leanna admitted with a laugh. "What about you, Noah?"
"Ha. Yeah, of course. I mean, I'm a man, right?"
"You certainly are," Leanna said with a hint of her trademark sultriness. "So tell me, tell our listeners, what issue brings you to us today?"
I knew the question was coming, but it was still a gut check to vocalize it. "Well, I've been getting dates lately. Second and third dates, too. But after the first intimate date, I've been getting ghosted."
Leanna nodded solemnly. One of the things I liked about her show was the unconditional support and acceptance. She never judges her guests or callers. "Do you have any idea why that might be, Noah?"
"No! It's frustrating. We seem to have good chemistry. We laugh, talk, find common ground, all good signs, right? Text afterward and set up another date for the next weekend. All good, but once we sleep together I either get ghosted or I'll get some vague response back like we don't have chemistry."
From the control room, Trixee makes a sign and Leanna responds. "Let's take the first caller."
A woman's voice popped from the studio's speaker. "Dude's bad in bed," the caller said. "I mean, sorry, but a girl has a third date it's because she's into you. If she ghosts after that it's because you didn't get it done in the bedroom."
Leanna made eye contact. "Do you think there might be some truth to that, Noah?"
"How would I know? Like I said, it's frustrating. If you're into me, but I'm less than one hundred percent between the sheets, why not work with me? Why not give me some pointers instead of just ditching?"
"That certainly seems fair, Noah, but all in love and war is not fair, right? Tell me," she said, her bold eyes sweeping over me once more, "you're in your late twenties?"
"Twenty-eight."
"Right, so you must have had at least one successful relationship."
"I have. My college girlfriend. Started dating sophomore year. We almost got married a couple of years out of school but eventually split up. Six years together."
"So you can make a relationship last," Leanna said. "What do our listeners have to say about that?"
Immediately Trixee makes the sign and Leanna nods.
This time a man's voice greets them. "Hey, like, I get this because I was in the same situation. I dated my high school girlfriend through college. Neither of us knew any better. Like Noah here, we split up after graduation and it was like starting over."
"Like starting over how?" Leanna asked.
