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“I don’t know about you girls, but casual sex has most definitely lost its shine.” Brooke sighs.
“For me, too.” Jolie nods. “I go to the gym, then work, and I hang with you guys on the weekend. I really don’t do much else. I may be the most boring person on the planet.”
“Me, too,” Brooke agrees.
“You know what the problem is?” I say. “We’re too comfortable.”
“To be honest, I’d rather eat a cupcake than spend an hour getting ready for a date with a loser. Men just aren’t worth the fucking hassle anymore.” Jolie shrugs. “Well, let’s face it, nobody satisfies us in bed like BOB does, anyway.”
We all clink our glasses together. “Amen.”
I slump and lean on my hand. “I’ve had way too many dates with my vibrator. I think I’ve forgotten what real sex is even like.”
Brooke narrows her eyes. “Girls, I think it’s official. We’re in a midlife rut.”
We sip our wine in silence, suddenly depressed by the thought.
“But, how? How did it go from dating all the time and having the time of our lives, to waking up one day and realising that we haven’t gone on a date in six months?”
“Continual disappointment in men, I suspect.”
“We should shake things up a bit,” Jolie chips in.
“Like how?” I ask.
“I don’t know.” She thinks for a moment, and then narrows her eyes as a plan presents itself. “Step out of our comfort zones. We each have to go on a date and we need to talk to different people—do things we don’t normally do. Yes! We could do it. The six of us should go on a date, and then we can reward ourselves with a weekend away… somewhere exotic.”
“Oh, please. Nathan won’t go on a date with anybody.” I roll my eyes.
“Bullshit!” Jolie snaps. “He’s fucking people all the time. A man who looks like he does has to be having sex on tap.”
“Like when?” I scoff. “He spends every spare minute of his day with me.
“He still has his apartment, doesn’t he?”
“Yeah, so?”
“Why exactly do you think he has that bachelor pad, Eliza?” I stare at her. “Nathan’s apartment is his booty-call place. He works late some nights, he fucks whoever he wants, kicks them out, and then he goes to your house to sleep.”
Brooke widens her eyes as if I’m totally clueless.
I cringe. “You think?”
“I know.”
“I never thought of it that way. Maybe...” I shrug. “Good for him, I guess.” I toast the air with my wine. “At least one of us is getting some action.”
“You know,” Jolie says. “This little arrangement you and Nathan have going on, is really not good for you.”
“Why? I don’t care who Nathan fucks.”
“Because it’s not equal. You can’t fuck who you want, or invite men over because Nathan is always at your house. He’s got his cake and he’s eating it, too.”
“We’re friends, you idiot. I’m not his fucking cake.”
“How many texts have you sent each other today?” Jolie asks.
“We’re friends. Friends text each other.”
