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Chapter twenty-three
Simon
Ispot Maddox across the parking lot and jog to catch up, boots hitting the pavement as my breath fogs up in the cold air. He’s already halfway to the Headquarters building with a coffee in one hand.
“Have you ever gotten an STD test?”
Maddox slows just enough for me to fall in beside him, side-eyeing me. “Jesus. How about a ‘hello, Maddox, good morning’ first? Some of us like a little foreplay before you start talking about your dick.”
“I got one this morning. Fucking sucked.” I keep walking, words tumbling out faster than I normally talk. Maybe I shouldn’t have had that extra Red Bull, but I’ve barely been sleeping at night the past few days. We spend hours every night packing up Blaire’s apartment to move tomorrow. Then after we put Theo to bed Blaire and I spend another few hours dry humping like teenagers. She has been adamant about not taking it any further until I get a clean bill of health. No hands. No mouth. Nothing.
“Did you know they shove a swab into your dick hole?” I continue. “Because I didn’t. I thought it was gonna be like bloodwork or pissing in a cup or some shit. Nope. Straight up the urethra. Felt like they were trying to scrape my soul out through my dick.”
Maddox holds the door open for us, still staring. “Why the hell are you getting swabs stuck up your dick?”
“Because Blaire thinks I’m a whore.”
He starts to laugh, then covers it with a cough that fools absolutely no one. “Why would she think that?” The sarcasm is so thick I could spread it on toast.
I cut him a dry look as we head down the hall. “Okay, I know I wasn’t exactly a saint the last four years, but I was careful. I never even got so much as a handjob without a condom on. I’m not about to give her something.”
Maddox stops walking so abruptly I almost run into him. “You used a condom for a handjob?”
I shrug. “Of course. I promised Blaire when we were eighteen that my dick was hers. Got her name tattooed on it and everything. I wasn’t gonna let some random hookup touch it bare.”
Maddox just stares at me.
“What?” I stop a few steps ahead and look back.
“So you’re telling me you spent four years wrapping it up even for a tug, all because you pinky-promised your high-school girlfriend that your dick belonged to her?”
“Yup.”
He snorts, continuing the walk toward our offices. “You’re a weird motherfucker, you know that?”
“I thought it was romantic,” I defend, falling in beside him again.
“I think you’re insane.”
“I thought you’d be happy that I finally nutted up and told Blaire I want her back.”
“If I would have known that it would lead to me knowing this much about your dick, I never would have said that.” Maddox takes a long sip of his coffee, shaking his head like he’s trying to physically dislodge the information. “Also—and I’m sure I’ll regret this—but I’ve seen your dick about a million times. Not that I’m looking that closely or anything, but I’m sure I’d have noticed a tattoo on it.”
“It’s technically on my mons pubis,” I explain.
He gives me a completely clueless look, the kind he usually reserves for when someone starts talking about feelings.
“The place right above your dick?” I motion at the general area, because apparently we’re doing this in the hallway. “And women don’t really like when you have another woman’s name tattooed on you—in any spot—so I kept my pubic hair longer to cover it the last few years.”
He stares at me for a full second, then gives me this slow, incredulous nod. “Yeah. Of course. Makes perfect sense.” He smacks the back of my head as he lets me go first into the office. “Dumbass.”
“Why’s Crane a dumbass?” Gears asks, already halfway through a breakfast sandwich at his desk.
“Nothing,” I say, dropping into my chair and starting up my computer.
Maddox points at me with his coffee. “This idiot just spent four years wrapping it up for handjobs because he promised Blaire his dick belonged to her when they were high schoolers, and he got her name tattooed above it and grew a bush to hide it so the randoms wouldn’t ask questions. And this morning he let someone shove a swab up his urethra because Blaire thinks he’s a whore and won’t sleep with him until he gets tested.”
Gears blinks slowly. Sets the breakfast sandwich down like it just personally betrayed him. “That’s insane.”
