30. Ryan #2
Despite my vague description, my mind plays out the entire scene in vivid detail. I grit my teeth together, trying to stop my blood from heading south.
“Whew, that’s some romance book shit.” Parker licks the grease off his fingers, shaking his head. “I’m scared our book will fall short after that story.”
I let out a chuckle. “Don’t worry. In this romance book, our parents are the only ones who’re getting the happy ending.”
Parker smirks, and I realize my mistake a second too late. “Oh, I’m sure they get plenty of happy endings.”
“Not what I meant. And ew.” I roll my eyes. “Just that it’s the end of my story with Paige.”
“Was it bad?” Parker asks, before correcting himself. “Of course it wasn’t bad, you’re practically glowing.”
Yes. If by bad he means life-changing. Something you think about on your deathbed. “Neither of us is looking for anything right now.”
Parker shrugs like that makes perfect sense, but Wes starts his own interrogation. “You like her?”
I hesitate for a beat, not because I don’t know the answer to the question, but because I’m not sure how much I want to tell them. Still, I opt for the truth. “Yes.”
“You had fun?”
I nod.
“And the situation didn’t cause you more stress? In fact, your head was better?”
“Yeah…”
“What’s the problem, then?” Wes leans back, crossing an ankle over the other.
“Yeah, man. Go get your happy ending,” Parker adds.
“You know I’m nowhere near ready to be in a relationship. It’s the last thing she’d want, too,” I respond.
“You could still have fun.” Wes shrugs. “Nothing more has to come out of it.”
“I’m sorry, have I entered a parallel universe? Why is Parker mentioning happy endings and you’re talking about no-strings attached sex?”
Parker’s eyes widen, like he’s shocked by my statement. “You’re right. These books must be playing with my mind.”
“I just think that you need to let out the stress somehow. It might as well be sex,” Wes says.
“I fully endorse Wes’ suggestion, which is not something I thought I’d be doing regarding anyone’s sex life.”
Wes lets out an annoyed breath. “You know nothing about my sex life, Parker.”
“And whose fault is that, Wes?” Parker lobs back.
I have half a mind to stop them, but I don’t mind the reprieve from their attention.
They go back and forth for a few more minutes, while I finish my meal and try to clean my hands off with a napkin.
When I realize it’s not working, I head for Parker’s under-mounted stone sink.
The dish soap helps remove the grease from my skin, and I dry my hands off on a dishrag when Parker brings in his snack platter and places it on the kitchen island.
“Now, gentlemen, are we ready for the main course?”
“Main course? I’m stuffed,” I respond.
Parker casts an aggravated look. “The main course is, of course, the book discussion.” Returning to the living room, he searches the shelf under his TV, extracting three blue folders. “If you don’t mind, I have prepared some materials for us.”
He hands us each a folder. Wes is the first one to open his. “You made us worksheets?”
“I thought it’d be best for our first time. Since I didn’t know how seriously you two would take this.”
Fair. I slump back onto the couch, opening my folder. It hosts a sheet of paper that looks like it came straight from Pinterest. Parker places a cup with colorful markers, probably Chrissy’s, on the coffee table.
“Now, let’s start by rating the book. How many stars would you give it?”
With Parker leading it, the book discussion turns out more fun than I’ve expected. We share our general thoughts on the book, followed by our favorite scenes. Next are our suggested areas for improvement.
Just when a thought about how civil this is passes through my head, Parker clears his throat. “Now let’s cover the sex scenes.” Wes groans, but Parker simply continues, “First, is there anything you need clarification on? Any unfamiliar terms?”
“You realize none of us are virgins, right?” I ask.
“Your confidence astounds me, Ryan, considering you didn’t know what a tentacle dildo was mere weeks ago,” Parker quips back, making Wes cackle.
“Well, there were no tentacle dildos in the book.”
“Maybe this time.” He lifts his hand in the air. “But you should really think about how you’re treating your teacher. Your report card isn’t looking too well.”
“Report card?” Wes asks, triggered by any mention of evaluation.
“He’s not our actual teacher, Wes,” I tell him.
“Fine,” Parker stops me, raising his hand. “Since Ryan knows everything, let’s do this exercise pretending everything that happened between the main characters in the book happened between Ryan and Paige.”
Despite my disagreement, he does just that.
We analyze every single sex scene in this very smutty book, using mine and Paige’s names instead of the characters’.
By the end, my V-neck is too tight around my throat, my pants grow tight, and I’m internally cursing myself for getting hard by hearing Parker speak.
Rationally, it churns my stomach. But on a deeper, more primal level, my body can’t help but actually imagine us doing all those things. All those kinky, sexy things.
In each scene, I imagine her reaction. Would she be into it? I imagine her responsiveness, her nipples puckering, her cheeks growing rosy. I imagine the sounds she’d make. And fuck, now I’m fully hard.
My mind is back in the Bahamas, sharing a bed with Paige when I realize Parker finished speaking.
“Thank you, man. This was great,” Wes tells him.
It doesn’t surprise me. Wes is a man who would enjoy a book club, no matter the theme.
What surprises me is how much I enjoyed it.
Regardless of Parker’s teasing and both of their interrogations in the beginning, I had fun.
The book was great, and the company was even better.
There was also no pulsing behind my temples, which made for a pretty good night.
If I were keeping track of things that haven’t caused a headache in the last week, the list would host two things: sex with Paige, and Parker’s book club. Or maybe thinking about Paige during Parker’s book club. Is it a coincidence, or is she truly the cure to my headaches?
“So, you’ll do it?” Parker asks me, snapping me out of my thoughts.
“Do what?”
“Get yourself a few more happy endings?”
“Maybe.”
A hint of excitement builds in my stomach at the prospect of having more time with her, though I’m not sure she’ll be interested.