“Men do. They lie and cheat to get what they want.”
His eyebrows move together. Not confused. Not happy either.
“I’ve been straight up with you, Sofia. Told you exactly what I want. Em has too.”
His palm lands on my lower thigh, his fingers covering my knee. Breaking the touch barrier again gets my attention. The heat rolls off his hand, seeping through my scrubs and into my skin.
“Besides, we don’t need to lie to get what we want. We know our worth.”
The statement falls between us as we trade stares. But he left something out.
“And cheating?”
He laughs. The sound is big and deep. As if letting out a week’s worth of strain with it.
“We share everything, Sofia. Clothes, cars, and our house. There’s no need to cheat. What’s his is mine and vice versa, including women.”
I push his hand off my knee, needing a clear mind if we’re going there. Ever since he told me, my mind has run in circles around that.
“So, by everything, you mean you’ve seen him naked? Like you’ve watched your brother having sex with a woman while you were in the room.”
Another chuckle.
“Everyone has seen Em naked. It’s kind of his thing. But yeah.” He shrugs, going back to getting another container out of the bag. “And I’m more than in the room. I’m fucking her too. Watching them both get off.”
He chuckles again. I can’t help myself. It’s turning into an interrogation, which he doesn’t seem to mind.
“Isn’t that weird?”
“Not to me or him. It’s what we like. I’m sure you have things that you like. Maybe a threesome fantasy?”
He leans over to bump shoulders with mine. The bench squeals in protest. Of course I have. Not that I’d admit that to him. Instead, I continue my detective work.
“Do y’all do things together? Like kiss or touch each other?”
This gets a pause and a look. Going back to that slow motion of putting the third container on the now forming lap stack and dropping the bag to the ground.
“If you’re asking if we’re into incest. The answer is no.”
My hand slaps over my mouth. I didn’t mean for it to sound like that, but it does. My eyes are wide. My mouth clamps shut. Waiting for the awkwardness to pass. His fingertips pull my hand from my face, giving me an easy smile that I don’t deserve.
“Don’t do that. As Em would say, never hide those DSLs.”
He entwines our hands, leaving them on my thigh. He’s burning me in two places. My stomach is tightening with anxiety and want.
“Besides, it’s good to know where the line is, ya know?”
I nod, release his hand, and swipe the box off the top of the pile. At this point, I’ll eat anything, I’m so hungry. He shifts over, putting the two boxes between us and opening his. Somehow, he kept them in some order, as if he could tell which I preferred more. Interesting.
“There’s a line?”
A package of plastic utensils appears out of nowhere when he hands them to me.
“Always.”
“What is it?”
He leans over, then the bench groans, and my stomach tightens more.
