I sighed. “First of all, how do you know anything happened?”
“Are you serious right now?” he scoffed. “How long have we known each other?”
“Fifteen years, give or take,” I answered.
“Correct,” Evan said smugly. “So I know the sound of Jeremy’s ‘I got laid’ voice. I. Want. Details.”
“I find it disturbing that you’re talking about me in the third person,” I said,
“You’re stalling,” he retorted in a singsong.
I rolled my eyes. “Fine. He’s really nice. Charming, smart, down to earth.”
Again there was a moment of silence. “Okay,” he said slowly, drawing out the word. “But that doesn’t sound like a hookup. Hookups are all, ‘he was so hot’ and ‘he gave really good head.’”
“He was and he did,” I replied. “I mean, he still is—hot, that is. Gorgeous. Tattoos and long hair and pretty green eyes.”
“Wait,” Evan sputtered. “Are you talking about Sean O’Neil, the owner of the hotel?”
“Yep,” I said with a grin, putting an extra pop on the p.
“Well, I’ll be damned,” he said quietly. “I owe Raphael twenty dollars.”
I reeled back, stung. “What? You and Raphael made a bet on my sex life?”
“No! Babe, I would never do that, I swear.” He sighed. “We weren’t really betting on anything. It’s just that when we met Sean, we both thought he was hot, and he didn’t hide that he was gay. After we made the plan to have you stay there for a month, Raphael remembered Sean and bet me twenty bucks that you two would hit it off. I told him Sean wasn’t your type. Guess I was wrong.”
My head was still spinning. “I have a type?”
He made a sound of derision. “Slick, polished, snobby, and uptight as hell.”
“Hey!” I objected, “That was just Pierce.”
Evan snorted. “Oh really? Then what about Trevor? And Brad? And Alex?”
“Uh…” I really had no answer for him—that I would say aloud anyway. For some reason—and trust me, my therapist was working hard with me on this—I sometimes felt like a fraud. I couldn’t even say why because the connections my parents had would have only gone so far without the talent to back them up. Objectively, I knew I was talented, but I still couldn’t shake the feeling that I didn’t fit into the circles I traveled in. And thus, the Trevor, Brad, Alex, and Pierce lineup of failed relationships. I sighed. “I don’t know. I guess I thought they’d fit into the concert pianist scene.”
“Pfft. Please. Those assholes had their noses so far up in the air it’s a wonder they didn’t drown when it rained.”
I snort-laughed. “Yeah, yeah. I know.”
“Sean seemed like a nice guy,” he said. “Maybe give it a go—at least while you’re there.”
I smiled. “He is a nice guy. Maybe I will.”
Evan made a noise that sounded like a sigh of relief. “There he is. There’s my Jeremy.”
Tears pricked the backs of my eyes. “Ev…I…” I swallowed hard. “I wasn’t gone. Just…lost.”
“I know, babe,” he said softly. “But it’s time to let your light shine again.”
I choked on a laugh. “You must have gotten a good dicking from your man last night to be so corny first thing in the morning.”
“Shut up,” he said with a chuckle. After a pause, he exclaimed, “You cursed! I haven’t heard you curse since you were working on your doctoral performance.”
“Hush now,” I chided. “I’m not that big a prude.”
“Only around your dickhead boyfriends,” he muttered.
