“Coop! Over here!”
I spotted Pete and Sam at a table in the corner. Pete was on his feet waving at me like a dick. Laughing, I heading in their direction, ignoring the flirty smiles of several women on the way.
“How’s my man?” Pete shook my hand, patting my shoulder. He pushed a beer toward me. “Drink up, buddy. You’re already behind.”
“Yeah, well, some of us have to work,” I muttered, having a dig at him.
Pete could only be described as a professional student. The guy had been at college for the last seven years, and still had a year to go. And to think, if I’d followed my dream of medicine, that could’ve been me.
“Yeah, well, some of us wouldn’t call screwing hot women work,” he mimicked, jostling his shoulders. He laughed as his blond hair fell onto his face.
“Come on,” I scoffed. “You probably screw more women than I do.”
Pete liked nothing more than to spread himself around. He’d fuck anyone so long as they were remotely female—his words, not mine. My most memorable “Pete” story was from a few years back. I’d gotten a call at three in the morning. It was Pete, extremely drunk, and whispering from inside some girl’s bathroom. He’d asked me if it was wrong if the vagina in question used to be a penis. We never spoke of that call again, and to this day I still don’t know if he went there. But, knowing Pete, he probably did.
“Maybe true, but the difference is I don’t get paid for it,” he grumbled.
I rolled my eyes and turned to Sam. “How’s things with you?”
He shrugged. “Yeah, pretty good. Jessie is stressing about the wedding, but if I stay out of her way it’s all good.” He shook his head as I laughed. Sam and Jessie had been together for years, and were gettin
g married in less than six months. As much as I loved Jessie, I could only imagine the pain he’d be feeling. She was a stress-head at the best of times, and wedding planning brings out the worst in everyone. That I knew from experience
“The key is don’t have an opinion. That’s the only way you’ll survive,” I chuckled.
“Yeah, I’m beginning to realize that.” He raised his eyebrows surreptitiously and took a sip of beer. “How’s work? Did you just come from a meeting?” he asked, winking.
Sam and Pete were the only two people who knew the truth about me. Why? Because you can’t be a single twenty-six-year-old male who never picks up without arousing suspicion.
Trust me, I’d tried.
It took more convincing than I’d thought it would for them to believe me—particularly Pete. He thought he was god’s gift to women, and considering that we’d been in the same business class, he couldn’t figure out for the life of him why she’d chosen me and not him.
“Work is…work.” I grinned. They always asked and I never gave them details. “And work was actually not the most shocking thing that happened to me this week,” I added, cocking my head to the side.
They both turned to me, interest piqued.
“Yeah? Like what?” asked Pete.
“I ran into the chick who gave me my first ever blow job,” I announced.
“Your first ever blowy? Wasn’t that just last week?” sniggered Pete.
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Yeah. With your sister,” I shot back.
“What? I was kidding! So sensitive sometimes,” Pete muttered to himself. “So who is this chick, how old were you, and was she any good?”
“My sister’s childhood friend.” I paused for a minute as the guys looked at each other in disgust. “Okay, it sounds really creepy when I put it like that. She was fourteen and I was fifteen. When you’re fifteen, anything is good,” I added, addressing his last question.
“So did you fuck her then? Was she a client?” Pete grinned widely as Sam shook his head, his hand resting on his forehead.
Pete and Sam were so completely different that I had no idea how they were friends. We didn’t catch up often, every month or so, because it seemed a shame to lose a friendship just because life got in the way.
“No. I ran into her at my sister’s. Well, at the cabin,” I explained, grabbing a handful of nuts from the plate in the center of the table.
“So you’re not seeing her again?” Pete almost sounded disappointed for me.
“Well, she is kind of staying at my apartment until she finds a place,” I said, bracing myself.