She laughed. “Whatever you say. You’re the vocal expert.”
“Hey, Danica.”
“Yes, Ashley?”
I cocked an eyebrow at her. “Any kind of sex?”
“Yes. Any kind.Wait.Except butt sex. I think…”
“So, butt sex it is.”
She quirked a smile at me. “I don’t really understand butt sex. I mean… would you be imagining you were with a guy if you were doing me that way?”
I snorted. “Yeah. For sure. If I was a repressed homophobe and that was the only way I could ever get butt sex.”
She cocked her head at me.
“Wow.” I turned to face her. “That came out wrong. Did I just give you the impression I’m fucking guys steady? Like right now?”
“Kind of.”
“It’s not like that.”
“What’s it like?”
“I’m with you right now. That’s all you need to know.” I went back to my cooking.
If you asked me, that was all she needed to know. Was definitely never enough for Summer, though.
Had I just turned this thing sour?
I glanced at Danica. She was watching me, considering. She didn’t look upset, though.
“What does that mean, Ashley?” she asked gently. “I don’t know you well enough to know what that means.”
That was true, I supposed. But I felt my back going up on this topic.
I’d really have to thank Summer for fucking me up in this area.
I put the taco salad out on the island, handing her a serving spoon, and tried to put it as honestly as I could. “It means I like you and I don’t want to see anyone else right now. And I hope you feel the same way about me.”
She looked at the giant salad. “I had no idea you were so skilled in the culinary department,” she said, not responding to that.
“Guess we have a lot to learn about each other.” I slid onto a seat across from her as she started serving the food—onto my plate first. “You can just tell me you’re down for getting to know me,” I told her, “without touching anyone else’s dick on the side, and I’ll take you at your word.”
“Touching anyone else’s dick?” She met my eyes. “Um, no… I’m not doing that.”
“Cool. You strike me as an honest person. Goes hand-in-hand with the nice, right?”
“I’m not seeing anyone else, Ashley. In my world, that’s what it means when I say I like you.”
“Good. What time do you have to be home to get ready for your family dinner thing?”
“About four or so?” She was filling her plate, and I waited for her to be ready to eat before I started, because I knew she’d do that for me.
Who knew I’d pick up so many manners at the ripe age of thirty-one?
“Perfect,” I said, as we dug in. “Then we have time to do whatever you want for a while first. I suggest going back to bed, but it’s up to you.”
