The screen goes dark, and then the words “Stream Ended” appear.
A bitter, unexplainable twinge of disappointment twists inside my gut, making it feel like someone’s got their hands around my intestines, wringing them out like a wet rag. I don’t know why I’m bummed he ended the stream, but before the feeling of disappointment can linger, I get a message notification. I bring up my inbox, surprised to see a DM from Ezra asking if we can do a private chat. I type my approval, hoping he won’t ask me FaceTime him, because then he’ll know it’s me behind the username, and I don’t think I want that. I kind of like the idea of getting to talk to him incognito like this. I can say whatever I want without fear it’ll bite me in the ass.
Instead of FaceTime, he sends me a new video stream invite, and when I click it, the video loads, showing him sitting in the middle of our bed. He normally sleeps on the left side, but right now, he’s in Bubba’s spot, facing the space where I sleep each night.
“Daddy McSnack!” He’s bouncing up and down on the mattress, totally stoked by my presence, as if he hasn’t been chatting with me for a few minutes already. The corner of my lip curls into a smile. I don’t know where the dumb-ass nickname came from. It’s the stupidest fuckin’ thing I’ve ever heard. So, why am I blushing?
“What’s up, man?” I type.
He lifts a hand in front of his chest like he’s about to deliver some world-shattering news. “You’ll never believe it.”
“Try me.”
His eyebrow raises. “I’ve got a date tonight. I’ve been telling the chat all about it, but you were MIA.” He rolls onto his back, holding his phone in front of his face. I hope he’s got a good hold on it, because I’ve witnessed him accidentally bust his nose open by dropping his phone before. It was an ugly sight, but not because of the blood. It was the ugliest thing I’ve ever seen, because Ezra was sobbing. Two long lines of tears poured down his face, blood gushing from his nose, staining his pretty teeth. Bubba was at the store, so it was just him, me, and Austin at home. Austin freaked the fuck out, but I launched into action, grabbing two tampons we keep stored in the bathroom in case one of The Core Four’s mothers, or maybe our friend Deidre, come visit from Texas. I plugged his nostrils, cupping his cheeks with my hands. It was the gentlest moment we ever shared, and I almost felt like his big brother. His tears stopped falling as he stared at me, and I just brushed my thumb against his cheeks, spreading the tears into his skin.
“Don’t drop your phone. You’ll bust your nose open again.” The words are sent before they register, and I suck in a sharp breath as confusion clouds my head. Was he doing his psychic readings when he busted his nose? Did he tell the subscribers? Shit. I’m screwed if he didn’t.
“That was one time, you tacky bastard,” he hisses, but then his cheeks go all rosey. “But thank you for having my best interest at heart.” He lowers his phone a few inches.”I like this angle because it makes me look pretty.”
“You’re already pretty.”
“You think so?” He reaches across the bed, not waiting for my response, and grabs two bottles of nail polish. The first bottle he holds up is a light shade of pink, and the other is a deep, dark red. “Pick one.”
The pink would go better with his fair complexion, but the red would really pop. Both are a massive statement in this shithole hillbilly town, because the fuckers around these parts are homophobic as hell. God forbid we throw a little gender fluidity into the cooking pot. I might not like him a whole lot, but I don’t want anyone touching him. Don’t want them hurting him, because he ain’t theirs to hurt.
“Pink. It’ll look pretty with your bubblegum-pink lip gloss.”
He raises a brow. “I don’t wear lip gloss. I just have a natural coral hue.” He rests his chin on top of the hand not holding his phone like he’s playing Supermodel Photoshoot.
I snort a laugh. “Then why the fuck ain’t they pink right now?”
His lips might not be pink, but his cheeks sure are. “That’s hardly your concern. Doesn’t matter though. I’m pink in all the right places.”
The comment makes me think of all the places on a woman where pink looks best. Nipples, I guess. Their innermost folds, maybe. Truth be told, neither do much for me. Ezra did, though. Those pretty, pink nipples and his tight little hole.
“Yeah. You are,” I type.
He’s quiet for a moment, staring into the camera like he’s staring right into my eyes. “I think Johnny’s excited about the date. I’ve seen the way he looks at me sometimes,” he says, staring right at the camera like he’s looking me dead in the eyes. “He stares a lot.”
The fuck I do!
There’s a knowingness etched across his face that makes it seem like he knows a lot more than he’s letting onto. He couldn’t know it’s me, could he? I’ve been careful to stay hidden in plain sight. If he finds out, I’m fucked. He’ll never speak to me again. It’s a fact that ought to make my heart leap with joy, but I ain’t leaping. I’m on the edge of my seat, trying to hold on.
“He does?”
Ezra nods, the corner of his lift tugging up into a half-smile. “All the time. I’m not sure if he even realizes he’s doing it.”
Well, now he’s flat-out lying. I don’t just sit around staring at Ezra all day. I mean, yeah, I have to stay on my guard for fear of getting one of those damn cum-balloons thrown at my face, but it ain’t like I’m eyefucking him or anything.
“You always complain about the guy, but you look pretty giddy right now.” I take a nervous breath before typing, “So, this date. Is Johnny part of it? I know you said he was going, but are you thinking of it more as a date with Bubba, and Johnny’s just tagging along?”
He cocks an eyebrow. “Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” I type. “I’m just curious about what a date between three people would look like. I’ve never been on a date with two dudes before.”
“It’s more like we’re all going out as one entity, I suppose. I’ve never been on a triple date, either, so it’s new to me.”
“But do you like the idea of going on a date with him too?”
