14. Stone
STONE
Like I’d say no.
As requests go, this one is simple.
Of all the things people ask me for each day, this is the easiest.
I slap a palm on the table.
“Hell yeah,” I say over sushi lunch the next day as Callum lays it out for me.
He laughs, leaning back in his chair. “You’re so easy, Stone.”
“Damn straight.” I raise my arms in a victory salute. “I am as easy as Sunday morning. Also, do you realize this makes me the luckiest bastard ever? I’m playing a show and I’m having a fiesta tonight.”
Callum rolls his eyes as he picks up a slice of yellowtail with his chopsticks. “Yes, the Ivy fiesta.” His emphasis on Ivy does not go unnoticed.
I scoff, then drink some green tea. “Dude, I know it’s all about her. Also, no offense, but I am not attracted to you.”
“Um, none taken.”
I wave a hand at him. “I mean, you’re a catch.
And you’re handsome AF, if you’re into the whole six-foot-four broody, muscular look,” I say, my eyes drifting briefly to Jackson, who’s standing watch at the entrance to the restaurant.
I shoot him a wink, just to mess with him.
He’s impervious, his lips fixed in a straight line, his hazel eyes unreadable.
Well, he is wearing shades. I waggle my chopsticks in the air.
“I mean, some people are into that whole big, burly look.”
“Thanks. I appreciate that backhanded compliment. And I hope you know I’m not the kind of asshole who assumes you’d be attracted to me just because I have a dick.”
“What? You have a dick?”
“And you’re the asshole,” Callum mutters, but he’s laughing.
“Don’t you know I’m attracted to everything with a dick?” I say in a tone dripping with mockery.
“And everything with tits too,” he adds, and we both have a laugh at the assumptions people make about sexuality that doesn’t fit into a neat, straight compartment. I’m damn grateful that Callum, straight-as-an-arrow Callum, is woke to all the nuances.
“Anyway, tonight is about her. Only her.”
I set down the chopsticks and lean forward.
“Listen, I get it. I know what you’re asking.
We’re not there for each other. We are there for the woman.
” I wiggle my brows. “You don’t have to tell me twice.
I have played all sorts of roles in all sorts of trios, and I am down for anything.
That’s just who I am,” I say with a happy shrug.
“I give, I receive. I’m not into the machinery or the parts.
I’m into the pleasure, the person. And tonight, if she says yes, that person will be the woman you are in mad, crazy love with. ”
Callum flips me the bird.
I wave a hand. “The sooner you admit it, the happier you will be.”
But he dodges the thorny issue of love, saying, “I need to run all this past her because she sets the rules, but the thing is—I have limits too. I don’t want you to fuck her. I don’t want you to kiss her. But I don’t think that’s what she wants either.”
“Color me intrigued. What doth the lady want?”
“I think we should hear it from her.”
“My ears will be burning.” I lift my tea, take another drink, and then set it down with panache. “But my answer remains the same. Whatever she wants, I’m good. I am all good. Consider me all in for anything.”
Callum offers a fist for knocking.
I knock back.
I didn’t just say yes because I love sex. Or even because I believe in pleasure in all shapes and forms. Nor did I say yes because I think kinks ought to be explored, acted upon, and played out all night long with people you trust. Only with people you trust.
Though I do believe all that. Fervently.
I said yes because this three-way tryst gets my friend one step closer to the woman of his dreams. If I can help by-the-book, duty-above-all Callum see how much he needs to be with her, I’ll have done a great service for the man.