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“Don’t feel bad if you do beat him for the promotion. If you earn it fair and square, you should enjoy your win over him. What’s he going to do? Break up with you?” Emma quips.
I feel myself get a bit tense at the joke of us being together, and Emma senses it immediately.
“Sorry. Did I say something wrong?” she asks.
“No. However, I do have to tell you something that happened the other day at the station,” I whisper, coming in closer to her.
Emma takes a large bite of her pizza and puts it down, still chewing while waiting for me to continue.
“Luke and I jerked each other off in the supply closet,” I blurt out.
Emma gasps and spills her drink on herself.
“What? Tell me more! Who touched who first?” Emma demands with a bit of lust in her eyes.
“Me,” I reveal. “I saw his hard on and had to go for it. I didn’t expect such an intense response.”
“Did you kiss? Was it romantic?” Emma speculates.
She seems puzzled by the situation, too.
“No. We didn’t kiss, and I don’t think it was romantic. I mean, does romance mean the same thing for everyone?” I ask.
“I don’t know. You both find yourselves in the dark supply closet both thinking about each other’s bodies and how a man’s touch compares to a woman’s,” Emma describes with a sultry voice.
“We both smell like sweat in a room filled with dirty rags and dusters. We can also barely see each other,” I recount the experience more accurately.
“Who says romance feels like the movies and books tell us?” Emma asks.
“Since when do you read?” I jeer.
“I read Fifty Shades of Gray a couple of years ago.” Emma informs me.
“The literary expert,” I pretend to succumb to her expertise.
“Excuse me for not being the hand job expert,” Emma mocks me.
“Do you think the whole thing is weird?” I ask for honest guidance.
“No. Exploring your sexuality as you get older makes sense. You want to try something new. Girls do it all of the time, but they don’t get the same stigma about it,” Emma provides insight.
“Do girls think two guys messing around is weird?” I implore.
“Some will. Most won’t. I personally find it kind of hot and exciting. I see a lot at the strip club, and I have my fair share of experiences, but this covers new sexual territory for me,” Emma confides in me.
“I’m like the Magellan of sex,” I declare.
“If Magellan had a broken compass,” Emma snaps back.
I find myself so lucky to have such a beautiful, open-minded friend, even if she currently has cheese on her chin. I wonder why we don’t take things to the next level, but I decide to enjoy the moment and let things happen naturally.
“Alright, we drank the booze, so I need to go. Do I look okay?” Emma stands up, cheese still on her chin.
“Perfect. Don’t even look into the mirror,” I reassure her.
