Everly: Boyd? Sophie’s brother? Sophie’s incredibly hot brother?
Chloe: Why are you asking?
Everly: Why am I asking? What kind of evasive question is that? Because you finally met him when Christine was born and I think you should go out with him and have his babies. That’s why I’m asking.
Chloe: Oh, right.
Everly:: Pretty sure he could teach you anything you want to know…….
Chloe: Just got a pizza delivered. Gotta go.
The waitress is coming with the pizza, so it’s not really lying. I set the phone down on the booth seat beside me as the waitress sets the pizza in the middle of the table and asks if we need anything else before leaving us alone.
“Today was fun. Thank you.”
“Fun?”
“The slide and stuff.”
“You’re welcome.” He takes another sip of his beer and watches me so I slide a slice onto my plate and start imagining what Boyd is like in bed. Normal, right? That reminds me about his penis. I need to look this up right now. I’ll feel better if I have all the variables ahead of time. Being prepared for every eventuality makes me feel better.
I take a bite of pizza and then slip my phone off the bench and do a quick search on average penis size. Which actually, as it turns out, isn’t that helpful because there’s two million search results. I need a chart. I find one and glance from it to Boyd and back again. I’m not sure what I think I’m going to determine from staring at him across the table and looking at a chart at the internet. This is so stupid. I’m stupid. It’s not like I haven’t had sex before. I’m making myself anxious over nothing, because this is what I do.
“What are you looking at?”
“Um, the internet?” I respond and shove the phone in my pocket. “Sorry, I just needed to check on something real quick.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, have you ever sent anyone a POD?”
He doesn’t respond to that, simply lowers his chin an inch and raises his eyebrows in question.
“A dick pic,” I say, lowering my voice.
“I grew up as the son of a politician with countless lectures about the implications of what I put on the internet and I made my career specializing in cyber crimes for federal government. I can assure you, I have never sent a dick pic.”
“Oh.” I nod. “That makes sense.”
He just stares at me for another moment while I take a sip of my Moosarita.
“Are you upset that I kissed you?”
“No.” I shake my head back and forth. “No.”
“Okay.” He says it slowly like he’s not sure he believes me.
“I’m not upset.”
“Okay.” This time he says it without question.
“I liked it,” I insist. “My leg liked it a lot.” This moment is weird. There’s all this weird energy between us. Or maybe it’s all in my head? How does anyone know? I want to toss some cash on the table and drag him back to our hotel room, but maybe he’s questioning why he brought me on this trip when he could have brought someone—anyone—else.
But he laughs and says, “My leg liked it too, Chloe,” so I think maybe we’re on the same page.
Sixteen
Chloe When we get back to the hotel I grab my pajamas and disappear into the bathroom. Because I need to put my pajamas on before sex? Are we even having the sex? I wonder what he’s doing out there. How long have I been in this bathroom? Great, now he probably thinks I have stomach issues on top of being the official leader of Team Awkward. I slap my palm against my forehead and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. Be normal, Chloe. You got this.
I place my hand on the door handle and take a deep breath. Then I drop my hand. Boyd is going to expect more than those college guys did. Like what if he tries to bend me into some weird position I don’t know about and I embarrass myself? What if he wants me on top? I can probably figure that out. What if he wants to stick it in my ass? Wait, I’m sort of open to that actually. Maybe. I think I’d be open to anything Boyd wanted to do together. He’s always very conscientious with me, I can’t imagine that’s going to disappear during sex.
If we’re having sex, that is.
I find him at the desk, still dressed and tapping away on his laptop. The fireplace is lit, but I’m honestly not sure it hasn’t been running since we got here so I have no idea if he did it. The curtains are thankfully closed and only the desk lamp and the light near the door are on.
All right, let’s do this. I clear my throat and then speak.
“We can do this the easy way, or the fun way.”
“What does that mean exactly?” He stops typing and looks at me over the open laptop, amused bewilderment crossing his face.
“I have no idea. I just wanted to say it.”
He closes the laptop and fixes his gaze on me, silent.
“What do you call a moose that plays a musical instrument?” I babble.
He silently shakes his head no, while raising his hand and beckoning, indicating I should come closer without saying a word. When I stop a couple of feet in front of him he stands and closes the distance between us, stopping when we’re toe to toe. He nudges my chin with his finger so I have to look up at him. He looks… he looks like he’s into me. So this is happening. I’m gonna have sex with Boyd.
And then I start giggling.
In my defense this moment is really tense. I mean, no, it’s not tense. It’s serious. And I can’t really deal with serious moments. I can at work. Parent-teacher conferences? No problem. Resolving a dispute between second-graders that has no basis in logic? Easy peasy. I’m not nervous at work. I’m in my element at work. But now? Not so much.
But then Boyd cups my ass and lifts me and my legs wrap around him like they’ve done it a hundred times before and I stop laughing. Adrenaline takes over and adrenaline is a heck of a lot more compelling than doubt.
Then he turns us around and backs me against the wall, his lips descending on mine while I run my fingers into his hair and tug.
“Why are you so patient with me?” I ask.
Chloe: Why are you asking?
Everly: Why am I asking? What kind of evasive question is that? Because you finally met him when Christine was born and I think you should go out with him and have his babies. That’s why I’m asking.
Chloe: Oh, right.
Everly:: Pretty sure he could teach you anything you want to know…….
Chloe: Just got a pizza delivered. Gotta go.
The waitress is coming with the pizza, so it’s not really lying. I set the phone down on the booth seat beside me as the waitress sets the pizza in the middle of the table and asks if we need anything else before leaving us alone.
“Today was fun. Thank you.”
“Fun?”
“The slide and stuff.”
“You’re welcome.” He takes another sip of his beer and watches me so I slide a slice onto my plate and start imagining what Boyd is like in bed. Normal, right? That reminds me about his penis. I need to look this up right now. I’ll feel better if I have all the variables ahead of time. Being prepared for every eventuality makes me feel better.
I take a bite of pizza and then slip my phone off the bench and do a quick search on average penis size. Which actually, as it turns out, isn’t that helpful because there’s two million search results. I need a chart. I find one and glance from it to Boyd and back again. I’m not sure what I think I’m going to determine from staring at him across the table and looking at a chart at the internet. This is so stupid. I’m stupid. It’s not like I haven’t had sex before. I’m making myself anxious over nothing, because this is what I do.
“What are you looking at?”
“Um, the internet?” I respond and shove the phone in my pocket. “Sorry, I just needed to check on something real quick.”
“Okay.”
“Hey, have you ever sent anyone a POD?”
He doesn’t respond to that, simply lowers his chin an inch and raises his eyebrows in question.
“A dick pic,” I say, lowering my voice.
“I grew up as the son of a politician with countless lectures about the implications of what I put on the internet and I made my career specializing in cyber crimes for federal government. I can assure you, I have never sent a dick pic.”
“Oh.” I nod. “That makes sense.”
He just stares at me for another moment while I take a sip of my Moosarita.
“Are you upset that I kissed you?”
“No.” I shake my head back and forth. “No.”
“Okay.” He says it slowly like he’s not sure he believes me.
“I’m not upset.”
“Okay.” This time he says it without question.
“I liked it,” I insist. “My leg liked it a lot.” This moment is weird. There’s all this weird energy between us. Or maybe it’s all in my head? How does anyone know? I want to toss some cash on the table and drag him back to our hotel room, but maybe he’s questioning why he brought me on this trip when he could have brought someone—anyone—else.
But he laughs and says, “My leg liked it too, Chloe,” so I think maybe we’re on the same page.
Sixteen
Chloe When we get back to the hotel I grab my pajamas and disappear into the bathroom. Because I need to put my pajamas on before sex? Are we even having the sex? I wonder what he’s doing out there. How long have I been in this bathroom? Great, now he probably thinks I have stomach issues on top of being the official leader of Team Awkward. I slap my palm against my forehead and stare at myself in the bathroom mirror. Be normal, Chloe. You got this.
I place my hand on the door handle and take a deep breath. Then I drop my hand. Boyd is going to expect more than those college guys did. Like what if he tries to bend me into some weird position I don’t know about and I embarrass myself? What if he wants me on top? I can probably figure that out. What if he wants to stick it in my ass? Wait, I’m sort of open to that actually. Maybe. I think I’d be open to anything Boyd wanted to do together. He’s always very conscientious with me, I can’t imagine that’s going to disappear during sex.
If we’re having sex, that is.
I find him at the desk, still dressed and tapping away on his laptop. The fireplace is lit, but I’m honestly not sure it hasn’t been running since we got here so I have no idea if he did it. The curtains are thankfully closed and only the desk lamp and the light near the door are on.
All right, let’s do this. I clear my throat and then speak.
“We can do this the easy way, or the fun way.”
“What does that mean exactly?” He stops typing and looks at me over the open laptop, amused bewilderment crossing his face.
“I have no idea. I just wanted to say it.”
He closes the laptop and fixes his gaze on me, silent.
“What do you call a moose that plays a musical instrument?” I babble.
He silently shakes his head no, while raising his hand and beckoning, indicating I should come closer without saying a word. When I stop a couple of feet in front of him he stands and closes the distance between us, stopping when we’re toe to toe. He nudges my chin with his finger so I have to look up at him. He looks… he looks like he’s into me. So this is happening. I’m gonna have sex with Boyd.
And then I start giggling.
In my defense this moment is really tense. I mean, no, it’s not tense. It’s serious. And I can’t really deal with serious moments. I can at work. Parent-teacher conferences? No problem. Resolving a dispute between second-graders that has no basis in logic? Easy peasy. I’m not nervous at work. I’m in my element at work. But now? Not so much.
But then Boyd cups my ass and lifts me and my legs wrap around him like they’ve done it a hundred times before and I stop laughing. Adrenaline takes over and adrenaline is a heck of a lot more compelling than doubt.
Then he turns us around and backs me against the wall, his lips descending on mine while I run my fingers into his hair and tug.
“Why are you so patient with me?” I ask.
