‘Lily,’ Murray said quietly.
She ignored him. ‘Far be it from me to state the obvious,’ she said, ‘but the sexiest quality a person can have is to be good at sex. No one can be sexy if they’re bad at it.’
‘I don’t think that’s true,’ Naya said. ‘There are plenty of men I find sexy, and I have no idea if they’re good in bed.’
‘Dylan JM, for instance,’ Parisa said. ‘Sexy as hell! That smile! Those hands! The way he rolls up his shirt sleeves and gets his forearms out! I have no idea what he’s like in bed, but that doesn’t mean he’s not sexy.’
‘He’s got to be good in bed,’ Jess D said. ‘He’s so considerate. He’d be generous.’
‘But what if you found out he was bad in bed?’ Lily said. ‘Would he be sexy then?’
‘Lily, if you don’t think Dylan JM is sexy, no one’s forcing you to be here,’ Kumiko said.
‘That wasn’t the question, though,’ Lily said. ‘It was “What is the sexiest quality a person can have?” The answer’s in the question, people.’
‘Competence.’
‘Competence?’ Parisa asked.
‘Competence,’ Dylan repeated. ‘I’ve got two answers, but that’s the first one. Competence is one of the sexiest qualities a person can have.’
‘What do you mean?’ Jess D asked.
‘You know when people are really good at something?’ Dylan said. ‘It doesn’t matter what it is. It could be, I don’t know, flower-arranging. Singing. Dog grooming.’
‘Sailing?’ Kumiko said.
‘Sure, sailing, whatever,’ Dylan said. ‘Like I said, it doesn’t matter what it is. It could be simple. Tiny. When you see someone absolutely killing it at something they’re great at, that’s the sexiest thing in the world.’
You’re an organisational machine.
Putting together that meal plan was like solving a fucking Rubik’s cube.
No one who saw you build a perfectly functioning catapult today out of random pieces of machinery could ever think you weren’t the absolute best.
My head was starting to ache from how hard I was gritting my teeth together.
‘What’s your second answer?’ Parisa asked. ‘You said you had two.’
‘I don’t quite know how to put the second one into words,’ Dylan said. ‘I don’t think there’s a word for the quality I mean.’
She leaned her elbows on the table and rested her chin on her hands. ‘It’s… listening, I guess?’
You’re kind, and you’re funny. And you’re an incredible listener.
‘Agreed,’ Jess D said. ‘Listening is sexy. That’s one of the reasons I like Dylan JM so much. You can tell he’s really listening when you talk to him.’
‘But it’s not just listening,’ Dylan went on. ‘It’s listening, and hearing. Listening, and hearing, and understanding, and responding with kindness and compassion and generosity.’
You’re Jane Bennet, babe. You’re hot and sweet and generous.
The pot boiled over.
I slammed my fork down so hard my plate cracked. ‘Excuse me,’ I bit out, and left the room.
I went to the only place I knew I could be guaranteed alone time: the bathroom.
I sat down on the toilet lid, head in my hands, fingers clawing at my hair. The rage was permeating my whole body.
