“One,” Layla says promptly.
That shuts me up. I turn to her. “Seriously?”
She shrugs, not meeting my eyes. Zack shakes his head woefully. “I knew it,” he says. “Good sex requires basic social skills, I’m afraid. Which our little gummy worm sadly lacks.” He squeezes her hand. “Don’t worry, honey. Zack Hard-on will fix it.”
“Why one out of ten?” I demand. “Does it hurt?”
Layla shakes her head. “No. It’s just… kind of boring. Wet and sticky and sweaty. I’d rather be doing pretty much anything else.”
“Wait.” Zack looks alarmed. “You don’t like shagging at all? That’s all I’m good at. What the Hell am I meant to help you with now?”
“I like it,” Layla says. “At least, in theory. But every time I’ve tried, it’s been very… underwhelming.”
“You don’t come,” I surmise.
“Never.”
“Alright, then,” Zack says, as the front door to the flat swings open. Luke steps inside, holding a plastic shopping bag, right as Zack loudly declares, “You want sex lessons, too? We can totally provide that.”
I close my eyes. Luke freezes in the doorway. “What?” He barks, looking around the room. “What the Hell is going on here?”
“Zack has become an unlicensed sex therapist,” I say flatly.
“Damn right I have,” Zack announces. “Don’t worry, L, we’re gonna get to the bottom of this. No fake girlfriend of mine is having a crappy bedroom life.” He leans forward. “First things first. Can you get yourself off?”
Layla opens her mouth to answer, but before she can, Luke slams the front door behind him. “Is this an appropriate conversation?” He asks us all icily. His face is white.
“She’s an adult,” I point out. “She doesn’t need age-appropriate conversations.”
“That doesn’t mean you two should be sitting here giving her bedroom advice like a bad magazine column,” he spits, waving a hand around the room. “What’s with the candles and the flowers? Are you trying to seduce your ‘test subject’? That’s not what she asked for help with.”
Zack huffs a laugh. “I don’t know what world you’re living in, old man, but here in the modern age, being able to get off is a pretty important part of most relationships.” He looks back down at Layla. “So, what’s up?”
“Yes,” Layla says, fixing Luke with a hard look. “I have no issues when I’m going solo.”
“Well, that’s great. What do you think of when you touch yourself? Do you watch videos, or read dirty books, or—”
“Zack,” Luke snaps. “That’s enough.”
“I’m not a child anymore, Luke,” Layla bites out, glaring up at him. “You don’t have to cover my ears so I don’t hear the adults talk.”
Luke’s face tightens. “He doesn’t know when he’s crossing a line. You shouldn’t have to listen to this stuff if it makes you uncomfortable.”
Layla bristles. “If I was uncomfortable with the conversation, I’m perfectly capable of asking him to stop. I want their help. If you’re not happy with that, you can leave. He’s doing nothing wrong.”
Luke’s shoulders tense. “Fine,” he says coolly. “I’m not involving myself in this.” Dumping his shopping bag on the counter, he stalks across the lounge and into his bedroom, slamming the door shut behind him.
TWENTY
JOSH
Zack whistles, stroking Layla’s arm. “You’re spicy tonight.”
She stares at Luke’s closed door, a sad look in her eyes. “Bitchy, you mean.”
“He’ll get over it,” I assure her. “You didn’t say anything that isn’t true.”
She kicks the leg of the coffee table. “I’m just sick of him treating me like I’m a sixteen-year-old kid he needs to hold at arm’s length. We’re supposed to be friends, and he won’t even talk to me like an equal. He’d probably turn himself in to the police if I tried to hug him.”
“Aw.” Zack tugs a strand of her hair. “You wanna hug Luke? Listen, he gets cuddly when he’s drunk, so I can tell you it’s nothing worth getting upset over. Now, where were we?”
“You were asking if I read smutty books,” Layla says drily.
“Right.” He casts around, picking up a notepad off the coffee table. “Hey, why don’t we make your list together? You clearly need extra help in this area. Tell me your top ten turn-ons, and why you think they’re hot.” He flips to a new page and looks at her expectantly. “Go,” he says after a moment, when she doesn’t say anything.
Layla looks like she’s lost for words.
I clear my throat. “You do want help with this, right? Ignore Zack, you can absolutely do this in private if you prefer.”
“I want help,” she says. “It’s just… like, I can’t even list my top ten movies on the spot.”
“It can be little things,” Zack says casually. “For example, I like taking girls up the date, ‘cause it’s tight as hell and I like staring at her buns. Josh likes when you kiss his neck, ‘cause for some reason it’s apparently directly connected to his junk. Stuff like that.”
I can feel my cheeks heating. “Let’s start at the beginning. You can get yourself off when you’re alone, but not when you’re with a guy. What’s the difference?”
She snorts. “When I’m by myself, I can imagine whatever I want. When I’m with a guy, he’s…” She waves a hand in the air. “There. It’s distracting.”
“So you rely heavily on fantasy to get yourself off?” I say slowly, trying to push away the mental image of Layla, flushed and wet and naked, touching herself in bed.
God.
She nods. “Sure.”
“Well, then,” I say. “What are you thinking about?”
She hesitates, then looks down, her cheeks colouring. “Is this important? It’s not like I need to come to have a boyfriend.”
I frown. It’s such an un-Layla thing for her to say. “Do you want to come?” I ask frankly.
“Well, yes, but—”
“Then it’s important.”
“But—”
I cut her off. “Layla, one of your best qualities is that you’re never ashamed to ask for what you want.”
“And your legs,” Zack interjects. “They’re a great quality, too.”
I hold Layla’s gaze. “You did not get this far in your career by putting your own needs last. So I don’t understand why you’re okay with having a sub-par sex life. Is there something going on here that we don’t know about? Some sort of… mental block around intimacy?” She doesn’t say anything, and I sigh. “You deserve to enjoy sex, Layla. Do you want that?”
She nods.
I reach out my hand, palm up. After a second, she links her fingers with mine. “You don’t have to tell us anything personal. But we won’t judge you for it, if you do. Trust me, we’ve heard pretty much everything on the show.”
“Oh, aye,” Zack agrees. “We just got an email a couple days ago from a guy who could only come if a girl rubbed a balloon on his bits. The static got him off, or something.”
Layla’s lip twitches. “What did you tell him?”
“To buy the balloons wholesale from party stores so they’re cheaper.”
She closes her eyes. “Fine,” she mutters, her face burning. “I… when you were talking about that girl you dated… Monica, or whatever.”
I glance across at Zack. I’m not sure where this is going. “Yes?”
She shrugs awkwardly. “I like the thought of that a lot. That’s… what I think of when I’m in bed.”
It takes a second for me to realise what she means. Then the penny drops. “That’s what you imagine to get yourself off? Having a three-way?”
TWENTY-ONE
LAYLA
I set my jaw, looking Josh straight in the face. “Yes,” I say.
I expect him to look shocked or awkward; instead, he just shoots back: “What configuration?”
“What?”
“You want all guys? A guy and a girl?” His eyes bore into mine. “How many partners? Two? Three? Four?”
I feel like I’m getting drilled at an interview. “Jesus, does it matter? It’s not like it’s ever going to happen. It’s just a fantasy.”
His brow furrows. “Of course it matters,” he insists. “What you want matters. Own it. It’s not embarrassing.”