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“Is something wrong?” Beckett asked.
“No,” Miles said.
Beckett tilted his head. “Is there something you want to ask me?”
“Maybe,” Miles admitted. “But it’s weird.”
“Tell me.”
Miles looked at his hands. They were best friends. He could ask it, and besides, he talked about sex and stuff with his other friends all the time. He could do it.
He met Beckett’s eyes once again. “Are you a virgin?”
5
THE ONLY CLUE Beckett was surprised was the flutter of his eyelashes as he blinked a few more times than necessary. “No. I’m not a virgin.”
“So, you’ve had sex before then.”
“That’s usually what not being a virgin means,” Beckett said. The dryness of his words was undercut by the flush spreading across his cheeks.
“Do you want to ask me if I’m a virgin?” Miles asked.
“I already know you’re not.”
“Can I ask you more about it?” Miles asked. “You can say no.”
“Ask me about what?”
“Sex,” Miles answered.
Beckett crossed his arms, uncrossed them, picked at some chocolate, then fixed his eyes on the horizon. “Sure.”
“Do you have sex regularly?”
“I don’t know what counts as regularly. On average…maybe two or three times a month.”
“Two or three times a month? Even back in first year, when we were all living together? How have I never caught you?”
“I was discreet,” Beckett said. “I rarely did it at the apartment. If I was meeting someone and one of you asked me where I was going, I’d say I was studying at the library.”
“You did study a lot in the evenings,” Miles said, tapping his chin. “But wait, what about all the times I’d hear you say that and decide to join you?”
“Well, let’s just say I’d be doing some unexpected studying that night,” Beckett replied, mouth twisting into a smile.
Miles covered his face. “Oh my god, I can’t believe it. I must have ruined your plans, like, at least ten times.”
Beckett chuckled. “Studying with you wasn’t that bad. It’s more productive that having sex.”
Miles imagined it. Beckett heading towards the apartment door, ready to get some. Miles popping out of nowhere. You’re going to the library? I’ll come with. Grabbing his laptop and anatomy textbook and totally missing the fact that Beckett was not, in fact, planning to study.
He let out a long groan. “You should’ve just told me!”
“I like to keep that stuff private.”
“But you’re telling me now.”
“Well.” Beckett looked down.
