“Are you seriously trying to convince me that the 49ers are a better team than the Bears?” Aidan shook his head in disbelief before taking a long swig of beer. “No way, Wade. You’re nuts.”
“Me? Look in the mirror, Rhodes. You’re living in the past,” Dylan retorted. “Newsflash—it’s not 1985 anymore. The glory days are over.”
“Says the guy whose team plays for the NFC West.” Aidan snorted. “AKA the special education division.”
Dylan flashed his middle finger. He was ready with a comeback, but his phone buzzed before he could open his mouth. He glanced at the screen and read the incoming text from Seth, then glanced at Aidan.
“Seth and Jackson are chilling at the Sand Hole tonight. You wanna go?”
Aidan shrugged. “Not really. You?”
“Naah.”
They eyed each other for a moment, and something shifted in the night breeze slithering over the terrace. After a beat of silence, they both reached for their respective beers.
Dylan fixed his gaze on the city skyline, pretending to be fascinated with the tall skyscrapers and twinkling lights when all he could think about was how good Aidan looked tonight and how awesome the last few days had been.
Despite the awkwardness of that first night, it turned out they made pretty good roommates. Neither of them were slobs, they both liked to cook, they enjoyed watching the same programs on TV. And Aidan subscribed to the NFL network, which meant football twenty-four-seven. Dylan never got to enjoy football talk at home—pansy-ass Seth was all about boxing matches and pay-per-view fights, which was probably a Vegas thing, but annoying nonetheless.
Then again, there was a definite upside to living with Seth: Dylan didn’t want to rip the guy’s clothes off every time he saw him.
And interestingly enough, Seth, who was intense as hell, was actually less intense than Aidan. On the surface Aidan was charming and funny, but every now and then he got quiet, his dark eyes becoming shuttered. And if you looked really hard, you sometimes glimpsed a shadow or two that you couldn’t decipher, a hint of the secrets that lurked behind that enigmatic expression. But whatever shadows Aidan harbored, he didn’t seem inclined to shed light on them, and Dylan wasn’t one to push.
However, when it came to another aspect of Aidan’s life, he was far too curious not to bring it up.
“So what’s the deal with you and Matt and Savannah?” Dylan asked, leaning back in the cushioned chair.
Aidan grinned. “What do you mean?”
“Those two are in a committed relationship, right?”
“Yes.”
“Yet according to Cash, you’re frequently over at their place, in Matt’s bedroom…” He shrugged. “How does that work exactly?”
Aidan’s dimples made an appearance as his grin widened. “You need me to spell out the logistics of a ménage à trois, man?”
“Ha-ha. I mean, don’t you feel like the third wheel? Matt and Savannah are in love.” He paused in afterthought. “Unless…wait, are all three of you…?”
“No, the three of us are not in love.” Rolling his eyes, Aidan reached for the pack of Newports on the glass table and extracted a cigarette. He lit up, chuckling as he exhaled a cloud of smoke that swiftly got carried away by the breeze. “It’s really not that complicated. Matt and Savannah are together and they love each other. Matt’s my best friend. Savannah’s a good friend.”
“Okay, I’m following you so far…”
“Savannah and Matt are also the most sexually uninhibited people I’ve ever met in my life. They like to have fun and experiment, and they also happen to enjoy variety.” He flashed those dimples again. “And when they want variety, they call me.”
“And it’s not awkward?” Dylan wrinkled his forehead. “Aren’t they all, I don’t know, intimate with each other? Lovingly gazing into each other’s eyes, whispering I love you, all that couple shit?”
Aidan snickered. “If that’s how they acted, I wouldn’t be there, bro. I have no idea what they’re like when they’re alone, but trust me, when it’s the three of us, it’s all about pure, carnal fucking.”
A dark thrill traveled up Dylan’s spine. When was the last time he’d indulged in some pure, carnal fucking of his own? The kind where you didn’t think, didn’t question or doubt, didn’t stop to consider propriety or pesky emotions.
Cash and Jen.
Shit, that was totally it. The last time he’d experienced that kind of raw, modesty-be-damned sex had been six months ago with Cash and Jen. He’d given his best friend a blowjob that night, slept with his best friend’s now-serious girlfriend, and though he’d been with plenty of chicks since then, he couldn’t remember any of those encounters leaving him with that same sense of carnal satisfaction.