And then I’d gone and eaten his boyfriend’s face off.
It had tasted so damned good. Brooks had been passionate and receptive, so unexpectedly present in a way I wouldn’t have imagined before. So far this week he’d seemed like he’d had one foot out the door, one half of his brain back in New York sorting through work problems or anticipating a return to his “real” life. But for those brief moments in the basement, I’d felt like I’d had him all there with me.
He’d been mine. Just for a while.
But then I’d had to face his irate boyfriend, and his lecture had surprised me.
“She deserves better!” Paul ranted, pacing back and forth in front of the kitchen table while he waited for the ginger ale to stop fizzing. “You… and she… there’s… I think maybe you don’t understand that she doesn’t feel well.”
“I do understand,” I said, starting to actually like the guy. Anyone who’d stand up for Ava like this had my respect and approval. “But maybe you should be more concerned about your own partner rather than mine.”
He stopped and blinked at me, flushing deep red and fumbling in his pocket for his inhaler. “That’s not… I mean… I am. I do. Brooks is… fine.”
I snorted. “I hope someday my one true love calls me fine.”
Paul looked flustered, and it was kind of cute. “I kissed him. In front of everyone.”
“And?” I squinted at him. “You think kissing your boyfriend deserves some kind of medal?” My stomach lurched as I remembered kissing his own boyfriend minutes before and thinking the man kissed like a champion. Maybe kissing him was like earning a medal. It felt like it anyway.
“No, that’s not what I…”
Ava shuffled into the kitchen. “I think I want corn again. Is that weird?”
Paul’s entire face softened like a damned Snapchat filter with bunny ears and hearts for eyes. “Not weird at all. It’s totally normal in your… um…” His pale eyes flicked at me. “World,” he finished lamely.
It hit me fully then. Despite the kiss at the Lope, this man was no more gay than Red Johnson or Brad Ivey. He was into my best friend in a big way. And somehow he knew she was pregnant. Had she told him?
At least I could let go of my guilt over attacking his boyfriend, not that it was something I ever should have done or even consider doing again. No way. Brooks Johnson was off-limits. He was still the man who’d broken Ava’s heart, and I was a shit friend for even looking at him with lusty thoughts.
“I’ll find some corn,” I said, moving to the fridge.
Ava sniffed. “Um, actually, now that I’m here, I wonder if there are any frozen french fries? Or corn dogs?”
“Corn dogs?” I mouthed at Paul just as I heard a snort from behind me. Brooks had finished his printing and sauntered into the kitchen like he hadn’t just been dry humping me in my fake-girlfriend’s basement.
“You always did love those things. Does your mom still keep a stash of them?” he asked, joining me at the fridge before opening the freezer door. He pulled out a box without even sparing me a single glance. “Fifty-three seconds, right?”
Brooks pulled a corn dog out of the box and put it on a paper towel, clearly completely at home in the Iveys’ kitchen. I hated seeing his familiarity with their home since it reinforced the fact he’d been Ava’s high school boyfriend and had known her long before I had.
I opened the fridge door and stuck my head in. Hopefully the cool air would calm my racing thoughts.
Paul sounded worried. “Make sure it’s steaming. Hot dogs need to reach at least one hundred and sixty-five degrees inside to avoid listeria.”
I laughed. Meanwhile, Brooks was oblivious. I wondered what he’d think when he found out she was pregnant with no partner. Would he judge her the same way she worried her parents would? I hoped not.
“Come on, Paul,” Brooks said. “I still owe you that pizza. If we don’t order soon, the Pizza Palace will close.”
Ava sucked in a breath. “Ohhhh, pizza. Mal, can we do pizza too?”
I closed the fridge in time to see a few more bubble hearts float out of Paul’s eyes. “Let’s all do pizza together,” he said.
Brooks and I locked eyes long enough for me to know that would be a really bad idea. But before either of us could say anything, Ava clapped her hands and grinned. “Perfect!”
Perfect.
And there followed the most excruciating two hours of my life. The only part of the conversation that wasn’t incredibly awkward was when Paul and Brooks told us about the ad campaign they were working on. We all laughed when Paul explained how the meeting with General Partridge and the blowhard from their agency had gone. Ava had given them a few good ideas when they’d tried brainstorming new concepts, but so far nothing had seemed quite right. It was interesting to watch their process regardless.