Her red hair is a wild halo against the dark fabric of my jeans, her face flushed and radiant.
“Okay! Okay! Okay!” Kat catches her breath, her hand weakly swatting at Vince’s arm. “What about…” her voice breaks with a playful edge. “Weirdest place you’ve ever had sex.”
Vince exhales a slow breath, his eyes flickering to mine.
“Uh oh! What’s that look for?” Kat giggles, tilting her head up to catch my gaze before looking back to Vince. “Oh, come on! Don’t make me beg!”
“I actually wouldn’t hate hearing you beg,” I say, my mind mischievous.
I take a long pull of my beer, the glass cool against my palm.
“Okay, fine,” I say, like I wasn’t about to tell my most scandalous story anyway. “I once fucked a guy on my tattoo chair…while giving him a tattoo.”
Vince goes completely still. His expression is unreadable, but a muscle ticks in his jaw.
“No way!” Kat gasps, her eyes wide as she sits up straighter.
“We almost got caught by the piercer coming back for her keys,” I add, the memory sharp, the hum of the machines, the sterile glare of the lights. “It was a wild time. But, how many people can say they have a story about the time they fucked their boss while tattooing a chicken on his collarbone?”
“He was your boss!” Kat shrieks, her hand flying to her mouth in mock horror. "Ollie, you're a menace!"
I shrug, grinning. "He was a very understanding boss. He had a thing for pain. I liked to cause him pain. It worked out for a few months, but he wound up cheating on me with another girl, then fired me for having the audacity to be upset.”
“Fucking asshole,” Vince hisses.
“It was a long time ago,” I say, aiming for nonchalance, but my voice comes out flat. “Now, I have my own shop. He has a crooked chicken.”
“Still,” Vince mutters.
The quiet in the room feels thick, charged with the ghost of my poor decisions.
“What about you, Kat? What’s your weirdest place?” I prompt, grateful for the shift away from me.
She twists to face us both, tucking her legs beneath her.
“Well, it wasn’t sex, but I was fingered on a rollercoaster,” she shrugs. “Does that count?”
“Depends,” I say. “Did you cum?”
“Oh yeah!” Kat says, her eyes sparkling with the memory.
“Then it absolutely counts!”
Kat’s face lights up with pure, triumphant glee. She bounces on the couch cushions, her elbow nudging Vince’s solid thigh. "Okay, your turn. Spill."
Vince’s fingers trace the rim of his beer bottle, his gaze fixed on the amber liquid. His jaw tightens, and I watch the way his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
"I’ve got you both beat,” he says, but before I can call bullshit, Kat is eating it up.
“You do not!” Kat gasps, believing his lie.
I can’t help but shake my head, knowing this banger is going to be the most wholesome shit I’ve ever heard in my life. My precious little vanilla bean of a best friend.
“I had sex in a car," he says, a slight flush on his cheeks.
“That’s it? That’s not weird, that’s a rite of passage,” Kat says
“Yeah, my history is pretty straight-laced. Bedrooms, mostly.”
