bucket and a sponge, possessive and adoring at once.
“Aren’t you ever scared Nate will change his mind and decide he misses women?” I blurted.
Eric set his mimosa down and laced his fingers over his waistband, head cocking as he watched Nate another intent moment before angling a look over at me. “No more scared than I am that he’ll decide he wants someone else altogether, woman or man. Just because he’s into both doesn’t mean he feels like he’s missing out because he’s with one over the other.”
I swirled the dregs of my mimosa. “What about when you were first with him, though? Before he’d figured stuff out, back when you were just fooling around.”
Eric gave me a longer stare. “Early on? Yeah, that was nerve-racking.” He scrubbed a hand over the back of his neck thoughtfully. “I kept waiting for the other shoe to drop. For him to say he was done or wasn’t into it. I thought about calling it off a lot at first.” He paused, then continued when I prompted him with a look. “But I couldn’t. And then when I tried to, it lasted all of a few weeks before he called me out. They were the most miserable three weeks of my life, and I do not recommend that tactic.” His gaze moved Nate-ward again, drawn like a magnet. “Being with him was different than with anyone else I’d ever been with. From the very first moment. Sounds crazy, right?”
“No,” I said softly, “sounds nice.” And I absolutely wasn’t thinking of lying in bed with Sam the other morning and how for the five brief seconds that I’d allowed the sensation to creep in, the solidity of his weight, and the sense of him surrounding me and his warm, sleepy laugh had felt better than any insignificant hookup I’d had in the last three years.
Eric cut me a sidelong glance that turned suspicious. “I thought you didn’t mess with baby bi’s anyway. That’s been your trumpeting call since I’ve known you.”
I didn’t even try to act surprised that Eric had seen through my question. He was perceptive that way. But I also appreciated that he didn’t call me out specifically. “I’m not. I mean, I’m not sure he’s bi, technically. I’m not sure…shit, he kind of defies labels.” I accidentally smiled at the thought and then rubbed it away with a groan. “Ugh. I’m just setting myself up for disappointment, and it’s extra annoying because I know I’m doing it and I’m still doing it anyway. At least when I walked in on Reid and that girl, I was legitimately surprised. That one wasn’t my fault. But this was supposed to just be sex videos, and now it’s like I actually look forward to the company, too, even when—”
Eric spit out a mouthful of his drink. “Come again? Could you repeat what you just said?”
I sealed my lips around my drink straw, and Eric yanked the glass away, leaning closer.
“Did you say you’re making sex videos with him? With Sam Harding? The two of you?”
“Which part of that is it that you’re having the most trouble believing?” I demanded, growing a little defensive at his incredulity.
Eric put his hands up placatingly. “Easy. Don’t get defensive when you’re the one hurling the bombshells. Why the hell are you making sex tapes?”
“It’s a long story and…fuck, I should’ve stopped at one mimosa. I hope he doesn’t kill me. If he does, will you avenge my death by—”
“No. Focus.” Eric stared at me, and I shook my head vehemently.
“I really can’t tell you, but I can share that it’s consensual, and there’s a reason for it, and…god, for such a happy, no-worries kind of guy, he’s got me all confused.”
Eric was still frowning. “Nate and I haven’t even made sex videos yet.”
“How would you? Judging by what I’ve heard in the past, neither of you would be able to concentrate long enough to hit Record once you got started.”
He sniffed. “Please.”
“Anyway, moving on. The point is, when you see a fire and then deliberately stick your hand in the middle of it, that’s just stupid.”
Eric smiled. “You know, some people gradually inch closer to the fire, enjoying the warmth, stepping back if necessary, assessing according to their comfort level. Some manage to not get burned. Imagine that.”
“Did you?”
Eric upended his glass. “No. I mean, I tried. I think it looked like I was standing fireside, but I had my…hot dog right smack-dab in the middle. It got