“You’re having some sex tonight,” she says, grabbing me by the arm and frog-marching me toward the bar.
“I am not,” I say. “I haven’t shaved my legs in two weeks and forget the forest. I’d need a lumberjack to tackle the growth between my legs.”
“Haven’t you heard that the bush is back, babe?”
“No, I haven’t.”
“Real men aren’t put off by some natural hair. I heard it on TikTok, so it must be true.”
“Are you sure it’s not just a load of thirst traps trying to appeal to older women who can’t be bothered with the maintenance anymore?”
“Maybe,” Dawn laughs. “But I think we should run with it. Make it a thing. Who wants to approach their most sensitive area with a blade? If there were no male pressure, we’d all be walking around like seventies porn stars.”
“True.” I snort with laughter as my heart starts to flutter with nerves. The scarlet flashing sign for the Red Devil beckons ahead. “I need to act professionally tonight,” I say. “Please. No matchmaking with my colleagues. No sex talk. No mention of overgrown bushes. I want them to take me seriously as a work colleague.”
“That ship sailed,” Dawn says. “They’re probably in there right now discussing which of them is going to rub their ink all over you.” I give Dawn a fierce look, and she puts her hands up in mock defense. “You know I have your best interests at heart, babe. No one said that you can’t have awesome sex and still maintain a great working relationship.”
“Errr…I’m pretty sure that most companies have a no-fraternizing policy because work relationships are such a disaster.”
“Only if they go wrong,” Dawn says, winking as her hand meets the door handle to the bar.
I guess I have to face them all sometime, but the idea that they’re inside discussing my desert-dry sex life has me cringing all over again.
8
DEX
“She was talking about having sex with us?” I rub the scruff on my chin, staring at Noah, who’s grinning like the Cheshire cat. I’m trying to decide if he’s telling the truth or just pulling another one of his stupid pranks. I swear the guy wouldn’t take a funeral seriously.
“I swear,” he says, holding his hands up like he’s surrendering to an enemy. Even with all his gestures, I’m still not sure I’m buying it. “She was talking about how inexperienced she is, and whoever was on the other end of the line must have been suggesting that she uses us for sex.”
Carl makes a grumbling sound in his throat, but he doesn’t jump on Noah for talking foolish like he usually would.
“What, all of us?”
“She mentioned fuck buddies in the plural, and polyamory, and eating lots of burger.”
“Burger?” Lex furrows his brow in confusion.
“Something about eating lots of meat.” Noah nods as though his rambling has just explained everything.
I down a few big gulps of ice-cold beer, watching everyone around me and trying to put all the pieces together. “How long were you eavesdropping over her shoulder?” I say in the end.
“Long enough.”
Nash punches his brother on the shoulder. “Didn’t Mom teach you any fucking manners? No good ever comes from listening to conversations that don’t include you.”
“I think a lot of good could come from this one.”
“You’re quiet.” I nod in Carl’s direction, but for some reason, he avoids my gaze. What am I missing here?
“The poor girl needs us bunch of assholes like she needs a hole in the head,” Lex says.
Kase clears his throat and nods toward the door, and we all turn to see Kyla and her friend Dawn entering the Red Devil. Dawn is looking around, but Kyla’s eyes are lowered. The poor thing must be embarrassed as hell. Right on cue, her cheeks turn a pretty shade of pink, and she heads straight to the bar and waits for the barman.
When Dawn spots us, she waves, beaming with a grin that matches Noah’s almost exactly.
This is awkward.
It shouldn’t be. I’ve never understood why sex is such a big deal to so many people. It’s a bodily function, like eating and breathing. We’re creatures made to bond through touch and designed to experience pleasure together.
Kyla’s not a teenager. She should be free to embrace her sexuality if she wants to. But the way she’s acting, it’s like Dawn’s egging her on, and she’s flustered at the thought. It’s cute but a little sad. Maybe she’s been hurt in the past, or maybe she’s just a whole lot more innocent than she should be at this stage in her life.
“You don’t say a thing,” Carl says firmly. “Leave the conversation you heard out of whatever comes next. The poor girl doesn’t need eight dudes leering at her, and she certainly doesn’t need to feel uncomfortable in her workplace.”
“Yes, boss.” Noah gives a sharp salute, which Carl greets with a scowl. Out of the corner of my eye, I watch Kyla and Dawn buy their drinks. I can’t predict whether they’ll come and sit with us or sit somewhere else. If I could place a bet, I’d put money on Dawn pushing Kyla in our direction and her resisting, which is exactly what happens.