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When I told Cindy and Ariel that I had decided not to come right out and ask Vincent if he likes me and instead would say I needed his expertise so we could spend more time together, they shocked me by applauding it as a brilliant plan, since he’s so tight-lipped about himself and his feelings.

“I don’t want to be a nag and scream, GIVE ME YOUR SEXY EXPERIENCE AND MORE KISSING, ALREADY, but come on! What is taking him so long?”

“I’d still be holding a grudge after he accused you of pretending to be sweet and innocent. As a matter of fact, I’d have chopped off his balls, framed them, and hung them above the fireplace, just so he’d never forget,” Ariel informs me.

“But, that wouldn’t work. I kind of need his balls don’t I? Especially if he really does like me, and him teaching me how to dance sexy turns into him doing sexy things to me. During arousal the testicles increase in size due to vasocongestion, the accumulation of blood in the pelvis that occurs during arousal. The skin of the scrotum thickens and the testicles increase in size usually by approximately fifty percent at the height of arousal. However, Masters and Johnson found that if sexual excitement is sustained long enough, the testicles could almost double in size, returning to normal size after orgasm.”

Cindy and Ariel look back over their shoulders at me blankly.

“I did some research about sex and balls the last couple of days, just in case.” I shrug, bringing my wine glass up to my mouth and frowning when I remember it’s empty.

Honestly, I don’t know why it doesn’t bother me that Vincent didn’t apologize for what he said to me. Maybe it’s because I’ve come to understand him a little better. He’s not really a talker. He’s more of a show-er. And that kiss he gave me, as well as him deciding to help me and giving me a lesson, even if it resulted in me not being able to sleep because I want more, was sort of his way of apologizing and possibly showing me that he likes me a little bit, so it’s hard to stay mad at him.

“We need to see what’s in this room. Cindy, hand me a credit card,” Ariel orders, holding her hand out.

Cindy quickly turns and races down the hall, stumbling a little bit and bumping into the wall on her way, giggling as she goes.

“I don’t think this is a good idea,” I whisper, moving the rest of the way down the hall to stand behind Ariel.

“It’s a perfectly good idea. He’s at work. We’ll sneak in, take a look around and make sure he’s not some kinky bastard into S and M shit, with whips and chains hanging from his wall, then we’ll lock it back up like we were never here.”

Cindy comes giggling back down the hallway a few seconds later, waving a credit card above her head with one hand, another bottle of wine tucked under her arm. She hands Ariel the credit card and refills my glass.

I snatch the credit card out of Ariel’s hand before she can try to use it.

“Hey!” she shouts, trying to grab it back, but I hold the card out of her reach.

“Seriously, we can’t do this. He’s letting me stay in his home for free. This is a huge invasion of his privacy. We’re not going in that room.”

“Sweetie, I know you don’t want to break his trust, but it’s kind of weird that he specifically told you this was the only room off-limits, then didn’t say why. I mean, that’s like telling a toddler not to touch something,” Cindy states. “It just makes them more curious. It makes me more curious. You’re our friend and we’re worried about you. We just want to make sure you’re safe and he isn’t hiding any dead bodies in here. Like Ariel said, we’ll go in, get out, and pretend like it never happened.”

Ariel grabs the card back out of my hand before I can stop her. I suck down my wine nervously as she slides the credit card between the door and the frame, jiggling it around while trying to turn the handle. After a few minutes of trying, she starts muttering under her breath.

“Piece-of-shit door.”

Handing the card back to Cindy, she starts hitting her shoulder into the wood repeatedly. When that doesn’t work, she takes a few steps away from the door until her back is pressed against the opposite wall. With a loud war cry, she races forward and slams her shoulder into it, immediately bouncing off and landing on her butt.

Cindy and I both laugh at her as she curses and rubs her shoulder, and I momentarily forget we shouldn’t be doing this, because it’s really funny and wine is delicious.

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