Rose shook her head. “You are such a dick.”
“No. I am thoughtful. The kid is looking for his first
time? Good. I wish him all the best in finding someone
who will be delicate and sweet and even make him fucking
breakfast in the morning and spoon.”
“Oh, you hate spooning.”
He pointed at Rose in agreement.
Eddie started pulling a napkin into little pieces. “How
do you know that’s what he wants?”
“It’s what all virgins want,” Cam said. “They want their
first time to be special.”
“Was yours?” he asked.
“Yeah. Actually.”
“He was older, wasn’t he?” Rose said.
“By about ten years.” Cam paused. “On the
Appalachian Trial.”
Eddie’s fingers stopped moving. “Shut the fuck up.”
“Romantic and shit. By a campfire. After we had sex, I
followed the guy around for a week before he finally told
me to fuck off, which is exactly what I don’t want to do to
Evan. Let someone else break him in.”
“And possibly break him for real. I mean, shit, look
how you turned out,” Rose said.
“Exactly.”
“I guess this means I won the bet,” she said.
Cam groaned into the palms of his hands.
***
That night, someone knocked on Cam’s front door. Ever
vigilant of angry ex-lovers, he paused his Massive Attack
album and said, “Who is it?”
“Evan Brody.”
Speaking of angry, the younger man’s deep voice had
an edge to it. However, he was about half Cam’s size, so
Cam opened the door.
Evan barreled inside. His heavy motorcycle boots