13
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Boy Toy
Aubree
Summer nights in Seattle don’t get much better than this. The breeze is gentle, the sun has just set, and for the first night in what feels like forever, all the girls are together. We’re lounging on the wicker patio furniture on Owen and Becca’s balcony, sipping beer and catching up on each other’s summers. It’s the kind of night that makes me wish I didn’t have the thought of leaving this city in just a few short months hanging over my head.
Elise mouths the words Are you okay? at me from across the balcony, and I nod, managing a smile.
I made the mistake of checking my work email today, something I normally try to avoid on weekends, and my mind hasn’t stopped wandering to the promotion my boss offered me since. It’s making it hard to just be present and enjoy this perfect, rare moment when it’s just us girls.
I shift in my seat, refocusing my attention on the conversation. How many nights like this do I have left before I leave?
Becca must be able to read minds or something, because seemingly out of the blue, she steers the conversation toward me. “How’s work been for you, Bree?”
“Same old, same old,” I lie, mindlessly picking the label off my second beer of the evening. I haven’t yet shared with my friends the slightly life-changing information that I won’t be living in Seattle much longer. Actually, I haven’t told anyone, unless you count my landlord when I failed to renew the apartment I’m living in for next year.
“Any big fundraising events coming up?” she asks.
I just shake my head. “Just meetings on top of meetings.” That part isn’t a lie. I’m just leaving out the exact details of said meetings.
The conversation veers toward a more interesting subject, Sara and Teddy’s recent trip to the Virgin Islands. As Sara recounts the details of snorkeling next to sea turtles, I nod along, throwing in the occasional Wow and Really? at the appropriate times.
But mentally, I’m in the midst of a panic spiral, playing out worst-case scenarios of how everyone will react when I break the news. My friends will be sad, of course, but proud of me. They know how much I love my job, and this opportunity is too good to pass up.
But what about Landon?
I’ve been ignoring the guilt pressing down on my chest anytime he mentions the future. But how much longer can I go on pretending that I’m not on a limited timeline here in Seattle? And what does that mean for our relationship?
Becca lets out a dramatic gasp, and I snap my head toward her, convinced this time that she actually can read minds. But it looks like the source of the shock is on her phone, which her wide eyes are locked on.
“Sorry to interrupt, Sara.” She gives our friend a quick apologetic look, then turns her head my way. “Bree, is Landon a virgin?”
My stomach does a backflip as everyone looks toward me expectantly. Oh, joy. The other secret I’ve been keeping from my friends.
“Um . . .” I swallow. “Who told you?”
“Owen. Landon just told the guys.” Becca taps one pink manicured nail against her phone screen.
“And he already texted you?”
Her smile is proud, maybe even a little smug. “We tell each other everything.”
“Everything?” A challenging grin twitches across my lips. “Did he tell you about the time he lost in laser tag to a six-year-old girl?”
“No changing the subject,” Sara says, wagging a finger, going total lawyer-mode on me. “Confirm or deny—Lovey still has his V-card.”
I sigh. Now that it’s out in the open, there’s no use lying. “Confirm.”
Before I can get in another word, my friends launch into a full-blown freak-out, gasping and chattering loud enough to warrant a noise complaint from the neighbors. You’d think I told them that my husband is from outer space.
“Why didn’t you tell us?” Sara asks, her voice as sharp as I imagine it is in the courtroom.
“It didn’t seem like my information to give out. It’s not really the kind of thing I could blurt out over brunch. Oh, these eggs taste good. And, by the way, my husband is a virgin.”
“Fair, fair.” Bailey nods.
“But you’ve done, like, other stuff, right?” Becca’s tone is one of genuine concern.
“Don’t worry. He’s a virgin, not a prude. And the fact that he hasn’t officially done the deed means he’s really good at, ahem, other stuff.” I break out the air quotes, which gets a laugh.
“Cheers to that.” Bailey tips her bottle toward me. “You’re going to rock that boy’s world.”
“Don’t I know it,” I mumble, my mind wandering toward the surprise I have waiting for him in my bedside drawer. I really freaking hope he comes home with me tonight.
Sara sighs, leaning back in her chair. “I remember my first time. Senior year of high school on the couch in Christian Simmons’s basement. He finished in about five seconds and then had the audacity to ask if I came.”
Becca laughs so hard, she snorts. “If you have to ask, you already know the answer, buddy.”
“At least you had a couch to work with,” Bailey says. “My first time was in the back of my college boyfriend’s car. His roommate was a total hermit and never left their dorm, so we had to get creative. I’m almost positive my statistics professor saw us.”
“You didn’t drive off campus?” Sara asks.
Bailey shakes her head. “Nope. Right on campus, and in broad daylight. What can I say? We were young, dumb, and horny.”
Elise holds her hands up, palms out. “No awkward first-time stories from me. I’ve only been with Justin.”
“You guys are so cute, it’s borderline disgusting,” Bailey says with a playful eye roll. “What about you, Aubree? How was your first time?”
“I hardly remember. That was freshman year of college. Over ten years ago.” I visibly cringe at that number. Ten freaking years. Damn, I feel old. “Can we talk about something else, please?”
“Okay, new subject,” Elise says, shifting in her seat. “Has anyone here taken a guy’s V-card before?”
“Oh my God, that’s the same subject!” I throw my arms up, spilling a bit of my beer.
“No, it’s not. It’s totally different!” Elise’s gaze flicks toward the sliding glass door. The guys have moved from the kitchen to the couch to watch the last few minutes of the game. “Well? Have any of you?”
Becca, Sara, and I all shake our heads, but Bailey is silent on the subject, grinning sheepishly from behind her beer.
Suspicious, I squint at her. “Bailey?”
“I’ve, uh . . . slept with three.”
“Damn!” Becca laughs, breaking into a slow clap.
I lift my bottle and clink it with Bailey’s. “I didn’t know I was friends with the virgin-whisperer. Teach me your ways, oh wise one.”
She drains what’s left of her beer, setting it on the glass table before launching into a full-on TED Talk on the subject. “First of all, don’t expect him to last very long. So, load up on foreplay if you want to get off. Which, like, of course you do. But for the most part, it’s not going to be about you. It’s about making it special and meaningful for him. Especially since he’s waited for so long.”