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“That is just sad. You took pussy-whipped to the extreme!”
“I loved her before we slept together. Or at least I thought I did. Maybe it was just lust or some young infatuation. I don’t know, man – all I know for sure is that I was happy.”
“Because you were having sex for the first time in your life, on a regular basis.”
“No, because I thought we had something good. Something special,” I explain as I think back to those days that seem like they were a lifetime ago. “Is once a week what you would call a regular basis?”
Greer’s heavy dark brow furrows. “Once a week? Like on a schedule, penciled in somewhere? Why only once a week when you were what, eighteen or nineteen? The horniest years of your life?”
“I would’ve liked to do it more that summer before I left for basic training, but Laurel thought it was wrong to do it on the days she went to church, so Sundays and Wednesdays were out. Stupid, I know. Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays, she worked all day as a lifeguard, so that only left Fridays.”
“Wow…that’s…I don’t even know what that is. And you do realize that you left out Mondays?”
“Oh, right. During the summer, she hung out with her friends on Mondays before they all left for college. Then I left, so…”
“How many times on Fridays?”
“How many Fridays?”
“No, how many times did you do it on Fridays.”
“Just once.”
“Just once, as in no more than one orgasm for you and one for her?”
“Yeah.”
“So, you can most likely count on two hands the number of times you had sex with your ex-wife?”
“Probably. Why?”
He rubs his hands down his face before looking at me again. “Have you ever talked to your brothers about sex?”
“Not really. Remy explained how it worked when I was like thirteen or fourteen, told me to always use condoms. Then other than bragging about their conquests, we never got into specifics.”
“Oh boy. I actually feel sorry for you, man.”
“What the hell are you talking about?”
“You’re a good guy, Bear. Decent-looking. You deserve to get some ass. Like consistently. Multiple times a week.”
Picking up a glass, Greer grabs a fork to bang against it, getting everyone’s attention.
“Most confirmed orgasms in a twenty-four-hour period wins a free pitcher of beer tonight – winner’s choice of brand.”
“Four – at least four, right, babe?” Colt asks Josie, who immediately buries her face in her hands while her son Jordan looks green.
“Five!” Avery – yes, Avery, my brother’s perfect, prissy blonde girlfriend – stands up with her arm waving proudly in the air. “Remy can confirm.”
“Hell yes, I can, pussycat,” my brother says as he pulls her down so she’s straddling his lap to plant a kiss on her lips.
“Seriously?” I mutter in disbelief.
Greer leans his forearms on the bar and says, “And that’s justwith their current significant others. But I’m not finished enlightening you yet.” He straightens and asks, “Most times in a week?”
“Who can count that high?” Colt remarks.
“Same. No clue,” Hugo mutters before Everly slaps her palm over his mouth.
