my lengthy text.
Cap and I are not sleeping together. Not now, not ever.
Not now, not ever.
I quietly repeat that mantra to myself two more times, and by the time I’m done, I almost believe it.
Cap
“I’ve never been turned on by old English before. It feels tingly,” Thatch says, and the rest of us groan. It’s the Monday after I followed Ruby into a bookstore like a glorified stalker, and book club is officially in session.
I’m not necessarily proud of my actions, but if I’m honest, I’m not disgusted by them either.
For the first time in the history of the world, my vampire slash driver Vin was running late to pick me up from the park where I met Ruby for the contracts. Intent on getting back to work, I headed for the subway, but before I went underground, I saw Ruby cross the street and head into Hilda’s. My subconscious made all the decisions thereafter.
“Good God,” Wes grumbles. “I don’t think I want to come to poker night anymore.”
“It’s book club,” I correct, and he gives me a smarmy grin.
“Exactly.”
I watched as Ruby picked up book after book and scrolled through the pages before finally landing on this one, and then I waited for her to leave to ask the clerk about the title so I could buy the same one. Now that I’m here, though, and I’ve had time to consider what I heard her say in the store that day, I’m not sure all this effort is actually going to get me anywhere.
Not now, not ever, she said.
Chaos ensues around me as my heart sinks a little bit.
“Come on, Whitney!” Thatch yells. “You cannot tell me you didn’t enjoy listening to a proper Englishwoman tell her gentleman that she’s going to give him a good old-fashioned blowy!”
“I’m officially disturbed by you saying blowy,” Theo says, and the rest of us laugh. Mine is just barely preoccupied.
“I wonder when the blow job started,” Kline muses, and I jerk my eyes to his face. Apparently, I’m not the only one. Every single one of us is looking at him like he’s grown a second head. He sighs and laughs at the same time. “Historically speaking, I mean. Everything has to have a starting point. We all know what a great invention it is now, but I’m just wondering who was the first person to think—”
“Hey, why don’t you put your dick in my mouth?” Thatch supplies helpfully, and Kline groans.
“I know there’s context involved, but please don’t ever say that to me again, T.”
“Well,” I say, more curious now than ever. “Someone is going to have to Google it.”
“Not it,” Trent yells, followed by a resounding chorus of the same. Thatch and I are the only ones not to say it, both rolling our eyes and taking out our phones.
I type into the search engine and scroll through the results as they pop up. I click on one of the ones near the top and start reading. “The first documented blow job was evidently good enough to resurrect an Egyptian god. The first blow job was between god-king Osiris and his—oh God, no.”
“What?” Thatch shouts.
“His sister-turned-wife, Isis.”
A resounding chorus of groans rumbles around the room.
“I’m just the messenger,” I say. “Not the creator of the information.”
“And I can’t even blame you for starting it,” Wes says before turning to Kline. “I’m completely surprised you’ve brought this upon us.”
Kline just laughs. He’s easily the most demurely self-assured person I’ve ever met. His confidence is quiet. Complimentary. But I have no doubt it’s every bit as expansive as my own.
“That’s simply the way it was back then,” he reasons. “You guys are just being real pussies about it.”
Thatch’s eyes get wide. “Oh my God, Klinehole. Did you just call us pussies?”
Kline rolls his eyes.
“I feel like my little boy is growing up right before my eyes. What’s next? Finding your come-filled socks all over your room?”
“Jesus, man,” Harrison chortles.
“You guys don’t even know. I’ve got little shits all over my house. I could start a money system with the come socks I’ll have to deal with in the future.”
“Oh Goddd,” Wes groans. “Remind me to keep your boys away from my daughter.”
“Ditto,” Kline adds, and the rest of us laugh again.
Still, mine isn’t as boisterous as usual, and Theo is the one to notice. “What’s going on with you, Cap? Something seems off.”
Thatch nods. “You’re right. You haven’t even argued with me today.”
“There’s still time,” I remark dryly, and Trent’s eyebrows pull