I shake my head. “He ruined everything that night.”
“Well, lucky for you, you’re still alive and can still make it happen,” Sandy says as she reaches for my little bit of undrunk wine. “You could really use it.”
“I’ve been well taken care of.”
Their eyes slide to me.
“Do tell,” Mikayla says with a smirk.
“We want all the details. Please tell me his, you know, is bigger than Lucas’s,” Sandy adds.
“His you know?” Mikayla says into her wineglass. “Are you thirteen?”
Sandy gives Mikayla the middle finger. “Well?”
“Def not like Lucas, and that’s all I’m going to say about it.”
“Straight or crooked?” Mikayla asks.
I stare at her in shock. “Crooked?”
She nods. “They’re not all like spears.”
“I’m…well…uh,” I stutter, at a complete loss.
“Those bent ones can be a hoot,” Sandy says, crooking her pointer finger. “It just hits all the spots.”
Mikayla bumps Sandy’s shoulder with her own. “Same. I love a little hook.”
I have no idea what they’re talking about, but that’s not surprising. I was in a long-term relationship for most of my adult life while they were busy exploring their sexuality with as many men as they could. I’ve clearly missed out on the hook, based on their conversation, because besides being small, Lucas’s penis was also straight like a small hot dog.
“I thought you two did stuff.” Mikayla lifts her hands and bunches her eyebrows together. “What the heck is stuff?”
I shrug. “Stuff.”
Sandy spins her stool top around like we used to do in middle school, almost making me dizzy. “Her stuff is kissing.”
“You felt it when you rode that jean-clad cock in his truck. You should be able to at least tell the size.”
“More than enough,” I tell her, trying to keep it simple.
Mikayla just stares at me, her lips pursing in annoyance. “Have you at least seen him shirtless?”
I nod. “Better than I could’ve imagined.”
Mikayla sighs as she reaches over, stopping Sandy’s movement, but she keeps her gaze trained on me. “I won’t even ask about his pants because if you can’t tell me anything about his cock, you haven’t seen it even from a distance.”
I busy myself in my work again, not wanting to talk anymore about Brax’s body and my lack of knowledge about every little inch of it. I plan to rectify the situation, begging if I have to, because I am done with my self-imposed dry streak. I chickened out last night, but I won’t make that mistake twice.
“I’m proud of you,” Mikayla says, catching me completely off guard.
I lift my gaze to her, thinking she wasn’t talking to me, but she was. “For?”
“Putting yourself out there again. We forced your hand, but you hopped on and literally rode it.”
Sandy snorts, covering her mouth quickly to hide the noise.
“I hate you both,” I mutter.
