Me:You were right.
Lex:Have the biggest boner right now, don’t you?
Me:Ugh.
Lex:Next rest stop, jerk it in the bathroom.
Me:I’d rather August do it for me.
Lex:Keep dreaming. That dude is straighter than a ruler.
I glance over at August and then back at my phone. Yeah, he’s totally not into guys. Right?I’ve never seen him with another guy, but I have seen him with his tiny friend Magnus who wears the best fucking clothes. So, who the hell knows?
“You ever fucked a dude, August?” I blurt.
He’s in the middle of a sip of water and starts choking, his cheeks turning pink as he gasps for breath.
Yeah, I overshot that one. Should have started out with something a little less intense. Kissing, perhaps. Or light petting.
“What? No.”
“Hm. Why not? You against the idea?” I ask.
He eyeballs me and then shoots his gaze back to the road. “I’m not against it.”
Oh shit. Well, I shouldnothave asked that because now I’m getting excited, like maybe it’s a possibility.
“I just wouldn’t fuck you,” he adds, and my smirk drops into a frown. Okay, so not a possibility.
“Damn, that’s not very polite,” I mutter. “What do you have against me?”
August wets his lips and keeps his eyes on the road. “Well, you’re impulsive, chaotic, and unpredictable. To name a few.”
Well, that was incredibly blunt and unnecessary.Not to mention, entirely accurate.
“So? You’re boring, nice, and reliable. I’d still fuck you.”
“Not happening. I have standards.”
“Ugh, so what? Standards-Shmandards. I’m hot.”
I’m not that hot. That’s a stretch.
He glances at me, and then his gaze slides back to the road. “Maybe, but still not my type.”
My brain is stuck on themaybein that sentence, but I can’t get sidetracked now. So I force out, “Oh, and what is your type exactly?”
Now I’m getting irritated. I’m offended, even though I’m the one who started this stupid conversation in the first place. I should have never asked, should have just lived with my dreams instead.
In my dreams, August is always super into it.
Begging even.
“Someone…who’s not you.”
I snort. “Okay, whatever. I don’t need this. Maybe I wouldn’t fuck you. I take it back. You’re bad for my self-esteem.”
He looks at me like he wants to say something else but I turn up the volume on the stereo, and the music pulses loudly through the speakers. We ride in silence, me continuously fidgeting in my seat because damn, I can’t sit still for long periods of time. It’s like a physical tic.