Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
I’d never liked Lauren, but now was not the time to mention it. “I’m sorry I wasn’t there for you. And I’m sorry about the way it all went down.”
“Like I said, you were in bad shape. I was worried we were going to lose you, when I heard you were back in surgery.” Scott sounded choked up by the idea.
“Hey, I wasn’t worried. Because I’m never going to die.”
Scott laughed.
“You don’t understand,” I went on, the tightness in my chest easing. “I have access to rich people medicine. We have the technology. My right hand is biomechanical like Luke Skywalker.”
“Must be handy for jacking off.” He snickered at his own pun.
“Left-handed, bro,” I reminded him. “Besides, I don’t trust my dick to robot hands. It’s a hard line.”
“Seems like a good way to get it ripped off,” he agreed.
And then silence.
And then, inevitably, “Dude. My sister, though?”
“Yeah… about that.” Don’t apologize. That’s what Charlotte had said, and that’s what I would stick to. “I need you to know that I didn’t run off and seduce her on purpose. It wasn’t a prank or something. We met by accident and to utilize an apt cliche, sparks flew.”
“I warned you about that. She’s charming as fuck, dude.” Scott made a grumbling, grudging sigh. “You’re both adults. You fooled around. It’s water under the bridge, as far as I’m concerned.”
And this was the part where I could either lie to my best friend, albeit, by omission, or I could own up, be a man, and tell him straight out that I was still going to be having sex with his sister.
On the other hand, cowardice is sometimes a survival trait.
Sack up, Charlotte’s words echoed in my head.
“You probably should stop referring to the subject in the past tense,” I said, wincing and bracing for Scott’s reaction.
“What do you m—” He stopped, and I could imagine the expression of dawning horror on his face. “Are you dating my sister?”
“No. I am not dating your sister. I am having a long-distance sexual relationship with your sister.”
My answer either baffled him or plunged him into rage. Possibly both. “Long distance sexual… How does that even work?”
Did he really want to know? “Well, there’s Faceti—”
“I know how it works!” he snapped. “I was thrown for a loop, okay?”
“Okay! Jeez. I’m responding to your question, for fuck’s sake. Does it make you feel any better to know that we haven’t been doing that? It’s been mostly flirty texts and asking about my recovery. One’s libido is affected by things like getting one’s leg ripped open like a god damn Christmas present.”
“So, you’re dating.” It was an accusation.
“No. She’s not interested in that and neither am I. We like each other.” Which was the perfect relationship. Liking someone enough to want to spend time with them and fuck them, but not wanting to alter my life or theirs.
“You’re going to propose to her within a year and she’s going to crush you.” Scott paused. “Actually, I’d be fine with that, at this point. It would teach you a lesson about ignoring my good advice.”
“Scott, I have never learned that lesson before. There is no reason to assume this will be the time it sticks.” I added, “Besides, I can see myself being friends with her, even after the sex stuff is over.”
“I’m going to tell you ‘I told you so’ so hard.”
It would be a small price to pay. “So, we’re talking again?”
“I was never not talking to you. I felt really, really bad about the bear,” he said.
“Let’s agree to blame the bear on Lauren, blame our lack of communication on my recovery and your broken heart, blame me sleeping with your sister on her—because you apparently view her as some kind of succubus—and walk away from this whole conversation with a comfortable denial of responsibility for the whole thing,” I suggested cheerfully.
He agreed with, “If you can’t be emotionally unhealthy with your friends, who can you be emotionally unhealthy with?”
“To denial.” I raised my free hand in a toast he couldn’t see, but which didn’t matter because I wasn’t drinking anything, anyway.
“I gotta go. Work let me take grief leave but now I’m behind in everything.”
Grief leave? He must have been destroyed. And I hadn’t been there for him.
“We’re doing Sepulcher of the First Ones on WoW tonight,” Scott went on. “I’ll see you there?”
“Oh man, from season four?” My fingers itched at the thought. Then, I remembered what I had waiting for me as a reward for this call. And while I felt like a shit for not getting back to raiding with my friends… Charlotte and her cornucopia of panties awaited. “Nah, I’m not up to fighting shape. Still riding the painkiller train every night.”
“Get better, man. That’s an order.” He added, “And give some real thought to not fucking my little sister anymore.”