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"Yeah."
"So what would've been awkward about you ripping off the boxers and saying hello to Mr. Foster Jr?"
"Oh my gosh," I said. "No, I can't do that."
"Why couldn't you do that?"
"Because we're just friends, and—"
"No, you're not. I have zero guy friends who would give me a lap dance in their briefs and thrust butt to me. And if they did, I would literally stab them."
"You'd stab them?"
"Girl, think about other male friends you have."
"Um, okay."
"Tell me one of their names."
"Um, Brandon?"
"Okay. So your friend Brandon… have you ever had a crush on him?"
"No."
"Okay then. So say Brandon strips off his clothes. He's wearing just his boxers, and his hard cock is pressing against you."
"Ooh!" I said loudly.
"Exactly. So no, your friends don't do things like that."
"Fine, you're right."
"And would you have done that to him?"
"What do you mean?"
"Would you have told him to take off your dress and rubbed your boobs all over his face?"
"No, that's disgusting." I thought about Brandon, my friend from high school, and all his bad acne. "That would be absolutely gross."
"So then you admit it. Foster's not just a friend."
"No, he's not." I sighed. "Look, yeah. I kind of wanted something else to happen, but it couldn't."
"What do you mean, it couldn't? Anything can happen. You guys live together. I'm surprised it hasn't happened already."
"It's just more complicated than that," I said, biting down on my lower lip and looking away.
"What do you mean?"
"I mean, we have a history."
"Yeah? You grew up together. Oliver and Rosalie grew up together, and they're now engaged."
"Yeah, but they don't have the same history Foster and I have."
"What are you talking about?"
