“This helps for sure,” Jess says, typing the last item on her list into the notes app on her phone. “But once we’re locked in on our target, how do we attract our dream date’s romantic attention? My new clothes are helping already with pulling focus, but a makeover can only take a girl so far. I’m still a nerd with odd hobbies and a weird sense of humor.”
“I like your sense of humor,” I tell her. “It’s one of my favorite parts of you.”
“And it will be one of your new partner’s favorite parts, too,” Ian says, sounding much more relaxed than when we started this lesson. And happy, too. It seems like he might actually be enjoying his role as a dating coach. “So, your job when you’re with someone you think might be a good fit is just to be yourself as much as possible.”
“But the most sexy, appealing version of yourself,” Harlow adds. “You don’t want to tell a guy you just met about the time your Thai curry kicked in halfway through a ten-mile hike and you ended up pooping in the woods and wiping with poison ivy.”
Ian laughs. “I don’t know. I’d find that story pretty funny.”
Jess makes a gagging sound. “Ew, no. Then I would be thinking about the person pooping, and poo and making out don’t mix. Also, hiking is the worst. What kind of monster would willingly choose to spend hours tromping around in the woods where he could be eaten by bears or bobcats or really hungry raccoons?”
“Racoons?” I ask with a laugh.
“Racoons are omnivorous and incredibly intelligent,” Jess says. “It’s only a matter of time before they realize that all they have to do to become the dominant species is team up and pick us off one by one.”
“That’s it, I’m definitely dressing up as three raccoons in a trench coat for Halloween this year,” Cam says. “I want them to know I fully support the raccoon takeover.”
“Same,” Harlow says. “They can’t fuck things up any worse than humans have. And they eat garbage, so…that’s good for reducing food waste and stuff.” She claps her hands together. “So, what? Are we ready to take this lesson to the streets? I don’t know about you guys but I’m ready to ooze my true self all over some tall, dark, and handsome guy who enjoys making ten-year relationship plans and hates sitcoms as much as I do.”
“Okay, but you have to do it blindfolded,” Jess says. “To make up for the fact that you aren’t a clueless virgin. That should even the playing field.”
Harlow sniffs. “I haven’t been touched by a member of the opposite sex in almost a year. I think that qualifies me as a born-again virgin.” She shoots Ian a narrow look and points a finger at his face. “Don’t tell anyone about that.”
Ian lifts his hands in surrender. “Anything that’s said in this room, stays in this room.” His eyes shift to the right, locking with mine as he adds, “And anything you wish you hadn’t said, consider it forgotten.”
But I don’t want to forget what I said.
And I really don’t want to forget about that kiss.
So, I don’t hesitate to hop to attention when Harlow slaps my knee and announces, “Then let’s get this show on the road. Cameron, you and Ian head to Spliffy’s and get us a table near the back in the less stinky corner before they fill up. Jess, Evie, and I will touch up our makeup and pour Evie into something slutty and be right there.”
I’m about to protest that I’ll go as I am, so I won’t slow everyone down, but then I catch a glimpse of Ian out of the corner of my eye. He looks uncomfortable again, but not in a bad way, more like he’s remembering what happened between us at the door and…
Considering it…
As a woman who would really like him to say “Yes, Evie, I will be your one-on-one sex master class teacher,” I really have no choice but to give this my best shot.
“I don’t want to forget anything we talked about,” I say, rising from my spot on the couch. “We’ve talked the talk, now I want to walk the walk.”
“Oh, me, too,” Jess says, standing beside me. “Harlow, come reapply that highlighter stuff you put on me this morning. I want to sparkle like a sexy vampire. My friend, Pietro, at work, said glitter is also an excellent way to mark your territory at a bar. Once you’ve glittered your mark, the other queens know to stay away from your man. We both think this would hold true for straight men as well as gay ones, what do you think?”
“Totally,” Harlow says as we start toward the larger bathroom, the one with enough space for all three of us to get fancy at the same time. “Gay boys and straight boys aren’t that different, really. The gay ones are just nicer and funnier and usually in way better shape.”