“Told you I’d return,” I say while picking up a pretzel.
“I’d like to think it was because you wanted to spend more time with me, but my guess is it’s because of the pretzel bites.”
While chewing, I say, “Yes, well, I am a sucker for carbs.”
He chuckles and picks up a pretzel as well and then smears it in cheese sauce before sticking it in his mouth. For reasons I can’t quite pinpoint, I watch as he eats, noticing the fine muscles in his jaw work as he chews or the way his throat contracts when he swallows. It’s extremely hot and makes me think I should do a collage of the boys swallowing and chewing for TikTok. A good old-fashioned thirst trap. Then again, it might be a little too sexual, and I’m not ready to lose my job, not when I just earned it.
“So, tell me this, Penny, if Blakely was sitting here instead, what would you be talking about?”
I wash my pretzel down with a giant sip of my fourth gimlet of the night and smile when I set my glass down, starting to feel the effects of the alcohol.
“Well, you for sure. We would probably be watching your every move and then gossiping about it with each other. Possibly trying to figure out who you were hitting on, why, and what you were saying. Possibly betting on who you would take home.”
“Is that so? Who’s to say I wouldn’t have stuck around with you two?”
“Once we started talking about my bad waxing experience, trust me, you would have left.”
“Waxing, huh?” He gives me a slow once-over. “You bare down there, Penny?”
Because said alcohol has started to loosen me up, I answer him by saying, “Normally just a short landing strip, but this last go-around, everything went, and I wasn’t ready for it. It wasn’t my normal lady, so she lit me up with wax.”
He wets his lips as he looks at me as if I’m a rare wagyu beef he’s been craving for years. “Do you like it?”
I shrug and pop another pretzel in my mouth. “I mean, it doesn’t feel much different. I honestly was nervous that doing it all would strip my clit right off, but it’s still intact.”
He chuckles. “Well, that’s good to hear.” His hand falls back on my chair as he faces me, his commanding body taking up all of the space between us. “I’ve gotten my balls waxed before.”
“Really?” I ask. “You know I was about to say that’s hard to believe, but just by the way you dress, I’d guess you’re a waxer. Do you wax your chest?”
He nods. “Yeah. Chest, balls, and ass.”
Well, isn’t that . . . information.
“I see.” I clear my throat. “You, uh, you still do that?”
He nods again. “Yes, I think it makes me skate faster. I got Taters to go with me once. He shrieked like a feral cat in heat and walked around after like someone stuck a hot iron on his nads, but he got used to it and now goes regularly.”
“That’s . . . hmm, that’s fascinating. I should do a video of you two. Call it the story of bare balls.”
He laughs. “Pretty sure the front office would not approve.”
“Probably not.” I shift my body so I’m facing him now and our knees knock together. He spreads his legs wider, and I slip in closer while crossing one leg over the other. His hand that was holding his drink falls to my thigh, and the heat of his touch mixed with the coldness of his palm does strange things to my muscles, contracting them in all different ways.
“What else would you be talking to Blakely about?” His thumb caresses my skin, and I nearly moan from the touch.
Yup, the alcohol has really loosened me up.
“Uh, probably about my horrible sex life because that’s what friends in relationships like to talk about with their single friends. That and setting me up with someone to help out with my horrible sex life.”
“When Taters was dating Sarah before they broke up, they always tried to set me up with her friends, claiming I was perfect for every single one of them. I think it was just because they had the need to see me in a relationship.”
“Did you ever go out with any of them?”
“One,” he admits. “We fucked, and that was it.” He shrugs.
“Have you ever been in a relationship?”
“Not since high school. It’s easier not having to worry about someone else with my hectic schedule. I figured when I retire, I’ll have plenty of time to find a girl and start a family if I want.”
“Is that what you want?” I ask, curious about this man who usually wears a mask of flirtation rather than truth.