“Buffy is the place to be,” Rory said haughtily. “Nonna knows her shit. And talk about mythology...”
“Essie and I watched that show right along with you.” David pointed to the camera over his shoulder and waved. “Joss rules. But still, you have to admit that the old vampire drooling after a teenager trope is a little gross. What do they really have to talk about?”
Rory glared. “She’s a fan of history and he’s lived it. She has blood and that’s his favorite beverage.”
Rig nodded like a sage. “Both of them are incredibly needy and overemotional.”
“Hey.” Rory threw a pillow. “That’s a good point though. Biologically speaking, maybe adolescent hormones and the genetic changes from vampirism are similar. Or maybe the fact that most of them were changed so young freezes them emotionally.”
David gestured with his hands and made explosive sound effects. “Mind. Blown. I’ll never see bloodsucking cheerleaders the same way.”
Rory’s smile dimmed when he noticed the camera again. His sister sent it with him. I thought Essie liked me, he thought as he struggled to adjust to a situation that was quickly spinning out of his control.
After agreeing to Rig’s terms he’d been a mess until David arrived in time for dinner. Maybe they were all feeling it—or they just felt sorry for him—because they seemed to silently agree to keep things light and friendly to start.
They had a meal one of Rig’s family members delivered so they had more food than they knew what to do with at the moment. Pasta and meatballs, fresh-baked bread and tomato and mozzarella slices that melted in his mouth. They ate while re-watching the latest Avenger movie and talked and laughed through the entire thing.
Exactly like old times. Sort of.
But Rory knew it wouldn’t last. Essie had sent a sexy card game that David seemed determined to play at some point, Rig was expecting Rory to admit to every feeling he’d ever had in his life and they’d all brought luggage for the duration.
A fucking sleepover.
A fucking sleepover?
Jesus, this entire situation was basically one big porno set-up. Three sexy, single guys, a mansion and a camera. Cue the seventies music and naked pillow fights.
He never had a problem with sex. It was his favorite topic, his favorite activity and his favorite cure-all. It always had been. But adding David to the mix made it so much harder.
So. Much. Harder.
Shut. Your. Filthy. Face.
Rig’s subdued smile was getting on Rory’s nerves. Like a sexy spider lying in wait for his prey. Eventually he sprung his trap. “So now that the movie’s over, do we want to try that game? It’s a truth-telling game Essie sent along, right? A never-have-I-ever kind of thing?”
Yes, they caught that emphasis in the next state, Ace. Smooth.
David shrugged and nodded at the same time, an endearingly familiar gesture that Rory wasn’t noticing at all. “Well, truth-telling for dirty bastards,” he finally responded with a laugh. “There are some pretty kinky questions in there. The first one was about strap-ons.”
“Sounds perfect.”
“I’m not so sure about that.” Rory glared, wishing Rig could see what a mistake this was for their group dynamic. For Rory. He was trying to behave like a damn grownup now. He’d gone on his cleanse because sexual games no longer held his interest. He’d busied himself with family and extra shifts at work because masturbation got old and he’d climb the walls if he didn’t. All of that to prove he could. That he could be worth someone’s love because there was more to him than sex.
Now it was all anyone wanted to talk about.
What if Rig’s favor request backfired and revealing conversations ended up doing more damage? Even though he’d do anything to have things back the way they were…the three of them were working like this. Things were fine. He’d adapted and discovered that people who thought sex could solve all their problems were suckers. Sex was easy. Sex was temporary.
David and Rig were not.
“We could test it,” David said abruptly, setting his plate down. “Float one trial balloon question and see where it goes.”
Rory tipped back his head and emptied his water bottle while David shuffled through the cards he’d snagged from his ever-present backpack. His heart was pounding so hard he didn’t hear the question at first. And then David repeated it.
“No. No way in hell.” Rory got to his feet in one swift move as Rig fell back on the couch laughing.
“Why not start with something easier, Mills? You can’t just ask how many people he’s had sex with. The math alone would scramble his brain. Try sectioning them off into bite-size pieces. How many people has he had sex with at the same time? How many people has he had sex with more than once? How many people has he had sex with that were convinced they were straight before he charmed their pants off with his magic flute? That kind of thing. They’ll still be staggering, numerically speaking, but he might be able to answer you before we die of old age.”