Boys Not Men
“So it’s decided.” Allegra raised her Aperol Spritz in the air between us. “Men officially suck.” Then she held up her finger. “Correction.Boyssuck. There aren’t any men left. Just silly boys who are only good for one thing, which lasts all of five minutes if we’re lucky.”
I clinked my cocktail glass against hers before taking a large gulp. “And most of them can’t even do that right.”
She pouted, lowering her glass. “Well, if Orlando didn’t even know where the clit was, then I say good riddance and best of luck to Miss Red Thong. They deserve a very unsatisfying life together.”
“Oh, he knew exactly where the clit was. He just thought it was for decoration, not the main event.”
“The boy will not go far in life.”
A tipsy giggle spilled out of me. “Well, who needs a man when I have the most amazing best friend in the world? Maybe we should just become lovers. I’d wear a strap-on for you.”
She scrunched her nose. “You’re way too hot for me. I like to be the most attractive one in the relationship. And you know I have a soft spot for dad-bods and beards. You can’t give me either.”
I groaned, sinking lower into my drink. “Wow. Rejected twice in one night. I'm heading to the cat shelter after this. I just need someone to keep my feet warm at night. Cats can do that, right?”
“You are only thirty, Aria. Calm the fuck down and buy some socks.”
I dropped my forehead onto the table. Orlando may not have been rocking my world, but he had his shit together, loved his family, and was charming, which was rare to find nowadays. I had jumped in and hoped for the best. I wasn’t in love with the man, but it was still depressing knowing even the seemingly good ones turn out to be shitheads. Not that I was desperate for a relationship or a man. I just couldn’t stand the bullshit anymore. The endless stream of bad dates with bad men with no manners or ‘fuck boys’ who pretended to give a shit, only toghost you after they finally got what they wanted. Or decide that even though you’ve been together for four months, you never officially said you were exclusive out loud, therefore, fucking a random girl and trying to suggest her thong was yours was deemed appropriate behaviour.
“Come on.” Allegra shoved my phone under my nose, already open on a dating app. “I refuse to give up. There must be one decent man out there who knows how to write the alphabet with his tongue.”
“You know that’s a myth, don’t you?”
She frowned. I laughed.
“Name one woman who has ever had an orgasm from a man spelling out the alphabet with his tongue.”
She thought hard, tapping her chin. “Okay, fine. So it might be a myth.”
I clicked my screen to black with a smirk, and she huffed.
“In fact,” I picked up my phone, and to drive the point home, I deleted the app. “I’m done with online dating altogether. I can’t do it anymore. It’s exhausting and soul-destroying. The next man I meet needs to knock me off my bloody feet with his physical presence. Or I’ll just sign up for one of those Married at First Sight shows. At least those men are vetted and matched by experts, which is clearly what I need because I'm no good at choosing men for myself.”
“Cutting out the crap and going straight to the ring. I like it.” She raised her glass again, knocking it against mine.
I glanced around at the swanky lobby of the brand-new five-star hotel she was staying at for two nights. Allegra was a high-profile social media influencer. She earned enough money from posting video reviews and engaging live with her followers at the most elite, invite-only events that she quit her retail job and was now living the life of the rich and famous. Fake it until you make it was her life’s motto, and it was working out well for her.
I met her three years ago at one of the first events she ever crashed, back when she had only six hundred followers. As the Mayor of Rome, my father sometimes forced me to attend stuffy socialite events as his dutiful daughter. That night, I’d been hiding out in the toilets with a bottle of champagne to escape the unbearable political talk. Allegra climbed through the bathroom window, and that was it; we became instant friends with a simple, ‘Is that the expensive stuff?’
“This place is nice. I think mypapiapproved the building permits for it, actually.”
“My room has a hot tub on the balcony and the bed rocks if you request it.”
My eyebrows furrowed. “Like a cot?”
She nodded, smiling. “I slept like a baby.” Her brown eyes suddenly lit up with excitement, a devious idea forming. “Ohmerda!I forgot to tell you about the spa!”
“Don’t tell me you got wrapped in trout sperm-soaked seaweed again.”
“It was salmon sperm, and no. I had a wonderful massage from a Thai lady, but that wasn’t what was so interesting. There were so many women relaxing in the waiting room, and when I asked one girl what treatment they were all there for, she said…” Allegra leaned over the table, her eyes glistening. “The Cesare Special.”
“Right,” I enunciated slowly. “And what is that?”
Allegra glanced over her shoulder to check that the bustling bar wasn’t paying us any attention. When she was satisfied, she whispered, “A very talented male masseur who… gives women happy endings.”
My eyes widened. My jaw dropped. “In a hotel like this? Really?”
