“Damn, don’t look at each other like that. It just makes me feel pathetic and miserable.”
Casey snorted. “So, you’re single?” I nodded. “Then why is Decker a friend without benefits then? Is he married?” I shook my head. “Is he a drug dealer? Murderer? Pimp? Does he have erectile dysfunction?” I shook my head again and no doubt blushed at the recollection of Decker’s highly functioning member against my body. “Then why on earth does that slice of heaven not come with benefits?”
“We’ve known each other a really long time, even though we haven’t seen each other in a really long time. So we’re old friends, but pretty much strangers.” Wow, that sounded really confusing in my head. “And I just moved here and left behind a triage of failed relationships, I think I’m going to try abstinence.”
Lionel and Casey sucked back a startled gasp.
“Don’t speak blasphemy,” scoffed Casey. “An adorable little stunner like you shouldn’t have any trouble having the vayjay tuned regularly. Lionel and I will help you find a technician.” Lionel nodded in agreement.
“Oh no you don’t, I’m not a charity case that needs to be fixed up. As for my vayjay, well, it will do just fine without male intervention. I have a technician and he runs on batteries.”
It was Lionel’s turn to choke on the cake.
“While I have nothing against battery operated loving, I also know for a fact that nothing compares to the real thing. I should know, I have the real thing and so does my boyfriend,” said Casey with a serious expression. Oh god, I shook my head and laughed. “You know, we are going to be great friends,” he said with a genuine smile.
I had no doubt that we would be great friends. He was forward, brash, and excitable, everything I looked for in friend.
“Stop it. You’re scaring the girl, you fralker,” snapped Lionel.
“Fralker?” I dared ask.
“Someone who is constantly stalking for friends,” Lionel explained.
“Ooookayyyy.” I drew out. “So, I’m like your fralkee or something?” Both Lionel and Casey stared at me like I had grown a second head. “It’s like a word mash up. Employee, stalkee, friend…ee…”
Casey shook his head and tsked me. “A lot to learn, yes you do, my Padawan. So, explain to me in simple terms why Mr. Tall, Strong, and Fuckable is unattainable.”
I groaned and banged my head on the table in front of me. “We are friends,” I growled out. They both stared at me.
“Every girl needs a friend who will laugh at her and with her, the fact he could also give her orgasms is a bonus,” Casey said so matter-of-factly.
“His best friend is practically my brother!” I shouted.
Lionel leaned towards Casey and whispered, “I’m not seeing the problem here.”
“He’s got some sketchy job that requires nudity and he won’t tell me about it.”
The men’s eyes seemed to grow with excitement.
“He’s a stripper?” Casey burst out.
“He says no, but I’m thinking maybe.” I was chewing on my nails now, a sure sign of anxiety.
“Ohhhhh,” groaned Casey in an almost orgasmic way. “She’s got her very own Magic Mike. Do you have any idea how sexy it will be when he dances just for you?” It was my turn to flat out stare. “Okay, okay, so he’s got some secrets, that’s mysterious and sexy, not a problem.”
“We should have a party,” Lionel exclaimed, and Casey literally jumped from his chair and began dancing around the room.
“O…M…G.!” OMG? Who talks like that? “I knew I loved you for a reason. Come on, we need to start planning.” Casey dragged Lionel from his chair. I was assaulted with air kisses and the men disappeared out of my apartment on a breeze of mind boggling, gay enthusiasm. I had no idea what had just happened or what they were planning, but I just knew it would end up being awkward for me.
*
It was three days before I saw Decker again. I had been tempted more than once to call him, especially when I decided to sort through the boxes in the back storeroom that were littered with rat poop. Instead, I made Lionel come over and rat-check everything for me. I had pushed the three large boxes of my dad’s paperbacks to one corner; I wasn’t ready to deal with them just yet. The one year anniversary of his death was only two short weeks away. I just needed to get through that and then I would think about putting memories of him on display.
The day Decker decided to drop by unannounced, I, of course, had to be standing on the top of a ladder in a tiny pair of denim cut offs that sat precariously below my ass. I was sweating like a whore in church as my air conditioner was out, so the front of my shirt ended up tied in a knot right under my breasts in an effort to get some cool air on my skin. With a wet paintbrush in hand, I was reaching for a high spot, the paint balanced on the top rung of the ladder. Stretched on tippy-toes and singing loudly to Carrie Underwood’s “All-American Girl”, I didn’t notice the front door open.