“My . . . my dong was not out,” he whispers.
“But it felt a breeze, didn’t it?” I cough out a peal of laughter, my cheeks hurting.
“You’re real mature. You know that?” He snags the chicken tenders from me and takes a bite of one.
“I’m really not.” I laugh some more, now starting to hee-haw like my friend behind me. “I just . . . cannot believe you had your fly down.” I dab at my eyes. “It’s just such poetic beauty.”
“Glad you’re entertained.”
He moves away from me, and I push off the fence and catch up to him, looping my arm through his again. “Don’t be salty.”
“Easy for you to say, you aren’t the donkey pervert.”
My lip trembles.
I attempt to choke down my laughter, but it’s no use, and I burst out once again. After a few seconds, I say, “I’m sorry.”
“No, you’re not,” he replies, but this time, there’s a smile in his voice, and I know I have free range to laugh as much as I want now.
* * *
“I betyour fans think you’re this cool guy, a real hockey hero with enough swagger to bag every woman in Vancouver, when, in reality, you’re kind of a dork.”
Silas licks his ice cream cone and says, “As long as they believe I have swagger, that’s all that matters.”
“Not going to fight against the dork comment?”
He shakes his head. “You’ve seen me at my worst now. No point.”
I lick my ice cream as well and lean my head against his shoulder. “If this is you at your worst, then what does it say about me that I like you the best like this?”
He pauses, then puts his arm around me, pulling me close. “That maybe you’re a dork yourself.”
“That’s actually very accurate. I didn’t think anything about me was cool when growing up. I was not popular, did not have or follow the latest trends, and I was never asked out by anyone.”
“Hard to believe,” he says.
“It’s true. I don’t think I hit my stride until college. And that’s when Yonny came along, and we know how successful that relationship was.”
“The makings of long-lasting love,” he jokes as his hand drapes around my arm, and his thumb slowly caresses my skin. The light touch sends a wave of chills up my arms. Even during the years I was with Yonny, he never touched me like this, yet it comes so naturally to Silas, and we’re not even together.
“Yes. Man, could you imagine if I was still with him, if I married him? That would be weird. What would my life be like?”
“What would my life be like if I married Sarah?” he asks.
“Treacherous,” I answer. “Especially since she didn’t appreciate what she had.”
“I could say the same about Yonny.”
“Yeah, he definitely didn’t appreciate me. I mean . . . I love sucking dick, and he never let me play.”
Silas lightly chuckles. “If you were mine, I’d let you play any goddamn time you wanted.”
“Such a shame I’m only pretend yours, huh?”
“Yeah . . . a shame.” He sighs. “But I appreciate what we have. It’s made life a bit easier.”
“I agree,” I say, even though in the back of my head, I have this little voice sayingask for more. Because I’m curious. I’m curious what it would be like to have his lips as my own. I’m curious what it feels like to hold his hand—not for pretend but for real. And I’m curious what it would be like to sit in this moment with him, eating ice cream, and then to simply kiss his jaw just because I can. “Do you ever wonder what it would be like if we were more?” I ask, just as a wave of nerves hits me from what he might say.
