“Uh, we do,” I say.
“Not quite ready to conceive, are we?”
“No.” I shake my head. “Still trying to get my wife to say ‘I love you.’”
Keiko straightens in surprise. “Have you yet to proclaim your love to each other?”
“Well, we’re still kind of new to this whole ‘marriage and dating’ thing, you know.”
“That’s right, you went backwards.” She knocks herself in the head. “I believe I’m suffering from what the books call pregnancy brain. Let’s just hope pregnancy brain doesn’t appear while I’m mixing chemicals in the lab.”
“Yeah, that wouldn’t be good,” I say, scooping up some noodles.
“But that’s not why we asked you to join us this afternoon.” Keiko picks up her napkin and wipes her fingers, spending extra time making sure her palms are clean before linking her hand with Kelvin’s, who’s been fairly mute at this point. “We’d like to propose a question to you.”
There’s a weird look in her eyes.
A look that feels as though it’s . . . undressing me, in a way.
A sudden sweat breaks out on the back of my neck as my mind whirls with the possibilities of what she and Kelvin could possibly be asking me.
Please, Jesus, don’t let it be a threesome request.
I know that came out of nowhere, but knowing Keiko and her need to explore every aspect of her sexual nature, I can see her asking the question “Will you join us for a night of unadulterated freedom?” Hell, I wouldn’t be surprised if she invited Cora, as well.
Wait . . . was that why she was asking about contraceptives?
I should’ve said no.
I should’ve said we’re free as free can be.
Keiko sticks her chin up, as if she’s preparing to ask the question of all questions, and a bead of sweat trickles down my back as I try to think of how I can politely turn down this request without insulting her.
“We have spoken at great length about this.”
Oh God, it is a threesome. I know it’s on her list of sexual things she wants to partake in. Because she showed the list to me.
I wince, holding my breath as she continues, “We’d be honored . . .” Fuck me . . . FUCK ME! “If you would agree to . . .” My hand clenches around my fork, my body shaking. “Be my . . .” Fuck buddy?, second man, the top to my bottom? “Man of honor,” she finishes.
“Aw, you know, Keiko, I just don’t—wait, did you say ‘man of honor’？”
She tilts her head in confusion. “That is precisely what I said.” She gives me a once-over. “Why are you sweating?”
I waft the collar of my shirt while trying to calm my nerves. Christ, man, way to think of the worst-case scenario and run with it.
“Hot in here,” I say. “And I thought you said, uh . . . maid of honor. I was confused for a second.”
She nods. “I can understand the confusion. Quite a play on words.” She stiffens again and continues, “As you must be aware by now, Kelvin and I will be celebrating our matrimony and reciting our vows publicly in front of family and friends. I would like for you to be by my side, if that is something you would be interested in.”
I smile and reach out to grab her hand. Kelvin’s eyes zero in on the hold and I carefully retract my hand. “I would be honored, Keiko.”
She nods. “Well, I’m overjoyed.”
Is she? Because she hasn’t even cracked a smile. Then again, it’s Keiko, so . . .
“Is there anything I should wear as your man of honor?”
“Yes, I will have a traditional English wedding tuxedo for you to don.”
Why do I feel like it’s going to be something I would never be caught dead in?
But hey, not my day, hers—as a good friend would say.
“Great.”
“I will send you explicit details in a lengthy email this evening. I shall not require a hen’s party since I am a spoken-for woman. Just for you to stand by my side, and novelty pictures, of course.”
“Whatever you need, Keiko. I’m there for you.” I wink and then smile at Kelvin, who, once again, looks like he’s ready to push me down on a metal rod and roast me for dinner—and not in a good way.
My smile fades, and I go back to my lunch. Doesn’t look like I’m going to win over Kelvin anytime soon. I’ll put him in the category of not being friends, along with Arlo.
“Christ,” I say, trying to catch my breath.