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“When?” I asked more doubtfully.

“Jodi and I,” he explained.

I searched my memory for who this was.

“Wait, you were having sex with Jodi?”

“Yeah,” he admitted shyly.

“Seriously?”

“Why are you so surprised by that?”

“Because in three years of seeing you every day, you never told me that.”

“Like I said, why are you so surprised by that?”

I stared at him shocked and then laughed.

“You really don’t share stuff, do you?”

“I have a problem,” he conceded.

“So, when did it start?”

“Freshman year.”

“Where’d you meet?”

“It was at a fraternity party. You took off with some girl, and I went home with Jodi.”

“What?” I asked, stunned and amused.

“Yeah.”

“And you hooked up more than just then?”

“She was trying to get into medical school and would text me whenever she needed to blow off steam. There was a lot of steam.”

“But you two never dated?”

“No.”

“Why not? She was cute.” I paused. “Actually, she looked a lot like me.”

“I have a type.”

“Wait, I’m your type. What’s your type?”

“Pushy. Annoying. Asks too many questions.”

I laughed.

“Okay, I know that isn’t true. Jodi was the most serious person I’ve ever met. I remember when you introduced us. She was basically a blonde version of you. Having sex with her had to be as fun as doing taxes.”

“She was actually pretty wild. Sometimes I could barely keep up.”

“Huh! I would never have guessed. It’s always the quiet ones. So, about me being your type,” I asked playfully.

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