Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 85535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 85535 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 428(@200wpm)___ 342(@250wpm)___ 285(@300wpm)
“We are not having this conversation.” I haven’t been living here all that long—it’s way too soon to be having the humiliation talk about sex and ejaculation.
I don’t even talk to the friends I’ve known since kindergarten about this shit, though maybe if I did, this conversation wouldn’t suck so bad. Maybe it would be easier.
The only sex talk I’ve ever had was my dad coming into my room when I was thirteen and saying, “Your mother wanted me to come in here and have the sex talk with you.” He ran a hand through his hair, glancing around my room at all the debate, math, and science trophies. “I don’t think we have anything to worry about yet.”
We were both horrified by that little speech, although it was a brief one.
Jack, on the other hand? Seems to be taking this in stride, seeming to relish this new information. In the span of time I’ve known him, there is one thing I’ve gleaned: he takes matters head on and likes to talk things out.
Not very British of him, I must say.
“The wheels are in motion, my friend, but the answer is simple: you need to wank off before you have a date. It’ll make you last longer.”
He sounds confident.
“Wank off?”
“You know—beat the bishop.”
That’s a term I haven’t heard.
He goes on. “Fire off some knuckle children. Jerk the gherkin.”
“Stop. I know what you mean.”
“Tug of war with the cyclops?” Jack smirks. “That’s my favorite one.”
I haven’t stopped blushing since he started talking. Don’t get me wrong, he isn’t being crude—he sounds like a normal twenty-something-year-old dude going on about sex. And masturbating.
I’m the odd one here, blushing beet red and wanting to avoid the subject entirely.
“So what did she say afterward?” Jack gets back to the subject, wanting more information.
“I don’t know—I washed up and didn’t talk to her afterward.”
“You didn’t talk to her afterward?”
“No.”
“Why not?”
“I wasn’t sure what to say.”
He drags a hand down his face. “Bloody hell. That’s not good.”
Hindsight is always twenty-twenty.
“Did she finish?”
“Um. I don’t think so.”
“Mate—how do you not know if you made her come?”
I shrug, humiliated. “I was…only thinking about myself, I guess.”
“You guess?” His snort makes me feel a million times worse. “Blimey, no wonder she tenses up when we say your name.”
“Do you think she hates me?” Even as I say it, I know it’s not true—Lilly wouldn’t be trying to get ahold of me to talk if she hated me. Or perhaps she does and just wants to chew my ass out, give me a piece of her mind.
“Don’t be daft—of course she doesn’t hate you. She’d stop coming over altogether if she didn’t want to run into you.” He resumes popping chips in his mouth as if it’s the last meal he’s ever going to have.
“Good point.”
“You have to start trusting your own instincts, Rome—especially when it comes to women. Don’t operate on assumptions. Don’t assume she hates you—grow a pair of balls and get back to it.”
The thing is, I’m not sure I can.
No matter how I feel about Lilly—how much I care—I don’t think I have the guts to look her in the eye and tell her I fucked up. She put the moves on me; she wouldn’t have done that if she didn’t give a shit, especially considering she has taken a sabbatical from dating.
“I thought you and Lilly were mates. Eliza and I didn’t realize the two of you were shagging.” Crunch, crunch.
“We are friends, and we’re not…shagging.”
“Then what do you call the fact that you boned?”
“I just meant it’s more than that. I think.”
“So you love her?”
That’s a good question. Do I?
“I’ve never been in love before, so how the hell would I know if this was it?”
“I think you just know.” At last he’s finished stuffing his gullet with junk food, rolling up the bag and tossing it onto the coffee table. “Honestly, I had to google it when I thought I might be in love with Eliza.”
“You googled it?”
“Yeah. I google everything.”
Interesting. “What did it say?”
Jack produces his cell phone, the bright screen lighting up his face as he begins tapping on the screen. “Alright, found the article.” He clears his throat before reading aloud. “You’re happy and a bit nervous.”
Sounds like me.
“The person is on your mind literally all the time.”
What kind of scientific article uses the word literally?
He goes on. “For example, you don’t just think about calling or texting them throughout the day. You might wander into a clothing store to buy something for yourself and wind up buying something for your sweetheart, too.”
Wander into a clothing store…?
“Wait. What article is this?”
He glances up from his phone. “It’s from Teen Life magazine.”
“Goddammit, Jack, find a more reputable list. That’s a magazine for kids.”
“Is not!”
“Find a different list.”
Jack grumbles but complies, thumbing through his phone after another search. “You always make time for them. You love the way they smell. You look at them while they sleep.”