Fuck you Instagram ads!
I scratched the back of my neck in an awkward gesture.
“I have mouthwash somewhere in my bag,” she offered, and I shook my head.
“I’m not looking through your stuff anymore, Lala. With my luck, I’ll end up swishing around lube or some shit.”
“Well… if it makes you feel any better, your lips do look plumper.”
I busted out laughing and she followed suit before we locked eyes.
“I don’t really know what to say about what just happened, other than we never speak about it again.”
“Deal,” she agreed.
With that, she walked back into the bathroom and then threw her mouthwash at me. I caught it in my hands.
“I’ll meet you downstairs in a few.”
I nodded, even though she couldn’t see me. Staring at the Listerine in my grasp for a few seconds, I set it down on her nightstand without using it.
I spent the rest of the night with the taste of Mila’s pussy in my mouth.
Why I didn’t use it? Why did I keep the taste of Mila’s pussy in my mouth?
I tried pretending like it wasn’t the first thing on my mind, the only thing on my mind, playing the role of her wingman.
“The guy coming up behind you is really cute,” Mila announced while we were standing by the bar in the house where the party was being held.
I snapped around, purposely knocking into him. “Ah shit, man. I’m sorry, I didn’t see you there.”
“No problem.”
Arching an eyebrow, I added, “You look familiar. You from Tennessee?”
“No, never been.”
“You should visit. We have some beautiful southern women, unlike my friend here, Mila. But her witty personality makes up for her looks.”
She chuckled, playfully slapping me on the arm.
Bringing our attention back to him, he remarked, “She looks beautiful to me.”
“Yeah, she’s all right.” I watched as he extended out his hand for her to shake.
“Hi, I’m John.”
She smiled, shaking his hand. “Nice to meet you, John.”
“Likewise, Mila.”
I recognized the expression on her face, it was the one she made every time she met a new guy. Mila had the worst taste in men, and she knew it too. The only two serious relationships she was in didn’t end well. Most of the men she dated had a problem with our friendship, they didn’t understand we were just best friends and quickly made it known they had an issue with us being so close.
Insecure pussies.
“You know,” I interrupted, shifting his eyes to me. “She loves margaritas and her personality just gets wittier the more she drinks.”
“How about I buy you a drink then, Miss Mila?”
“I’d love one.”
“Let’s go to the other bar, I prefer that bartenders drinks over there.” John grabbed her hand, leading the way as she mouthed, “Thank you,” to me and I winked at her.
The place was packed. There were more people than I expected, than any of us did. Women were barely dressed, wearing mostly bikinis and those see-through cover-ups that made for very easy access. I watched them disappear into the crowd before Cain was suddenly standing beside me.
“That guy looks like a fucking douche.”
“That’s her type,” I reminded, sitting back down on the barstool, signaling for another beer.
“Does it ever bother you?”
“Does what ever bother me?”
“Helping Mila score dick.”
“She doesn’t usually sleep with them.”
“Interesting answer.”
“Shut up, man. You know it’s not like that between us.”
“Do I?”
“What are you trying to say?”
He shrugged. “I don’t know. Mila’s cool for a chick. She drinks like us, puts up with us, she’s always there no matter what. Those are pretty cool traits for someone who’s seen how small your cock is.”
“Dude, I’ll pull out my dick right now just to prove you wrong.”
“Nah, I’m good. But seriously? You never get jealous?”
“Of Mila?”
“No of fucking Big Bird, yes of the guys who are with Mila.”
“Are you drunk right now? Where the hell is this coming from?”
“Bro, we’re about to graduate from college and enter the real world where we have to go to work hungover and do our own laundry instead of bringing it home on the weekend for our moms to clean. You know, adulting and shit.”
“My mom will still do my laundry.”
“No shit, you still live at home.”
“I don’t live at home per se, I live in my cabin.”
“On their land.”
“Eh, semantics.”
“So what? You’re not moving out after graduation?”
“What for? I’m going to start working for my dad.”
“Do you even like engineering?”
“It’s what my degree will be in.”
“That’s not what I asked.”
“What’s with you and the fifty questions?”
“Can’t I ask my best friend where his head is at?”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “All right, I’m game. You know my old man wants me to take over his business so that’s what I’m doing.”
“Is it what you want?”
“Sure.”
“That doesn’t sound like a legitimate answer.”
“Well, it’s the only one I have for you.”
“Then maybe it’s something to think about. We still have a few more months for you to find your passion.”