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The eight of us—Bishop and Fulton, Gus and Tate, Tyler and Daly, Locky and me—are having Friday night dinner at our place.
I mean, my place.
I mean, Bishop's house that I currently live in.
With Locky.
Who I invited to live with me.
Er,staywith me.
Not because I want to live with the guy.
Even though I do.
But this isn't that.
It's just a…a…a platonic living arrangement brought about by circumstances outside of our control.
There. That sounded believable. Right?
I swipe a hand through my beard. Anyway. Where were we? Ah, right. Waiting with bated breath for Locky to enlighten everyone about the last time he had sex.
"Does fucking myself with a dildo count as getting laid?" he asks with a sly grin, and I can't tell if he's kidding or not.
Doesn't matter if he is. I still choke on my tongue right as my legs give out from under me as the visual of Locky doing the thing he just said—possibly in jest, although what if it's not?—floods my mind. Thankfully, no one seems to have noticed I'm hanging on to the countertop like a rock climber gripping onto a cliff face.
"It definitely counts," Tate answers confidently.
"Agreed," Fulton chips in. "Self-sex is a valid, natural, and beautiful sexual expression."
I have no idea what any of that means. I'm still stuck on the image of Locky doing himself with a dildo. In this house. In his bedroom. With just one wall between us. And now my head is spinning.
"The best way to get over a dick is to get under one. Or have one get inside you." Tate delivers that little pearl of wisdom with a chuckle.
"A fuck buddycouldbe a good idea. Help you move on," Daly suggests.
"Or maybe Locky just needs some more time on his own," Gus, the always steady voice of reason, counters.
Tyler scoffs. "He's had six months. At his advanced age, he can't afford to waste any more time."
A round of Tyler-inspired eye rolling ensues.
"How old are you?" I ask out of curiosity.
"Thirty-four." Locky's eyes cut to mine, and he lets out a small smile for the first time since this conversation took a sharp turn down Casual Fuck Buddy Boulevard. "You?"
"Thirty-six."
The group conversation carries on around us, but I swear, while Locky sits there looking at me while our friends debate whether he should or shouldn't start screwing around, it's like everything else falls away.
It's just him.
And me…
Until an elbow pokes me in the stomach, and Bishop cuts into theno one else in the worldmoment we were having.
I glare at my brother.
