Page 27 of Finding Us
“How so?” I ask.
“Who doesn’t love a good hate fuck?”
I clear my throat. “If you say so.”
“You’ve never had one?”
“I can’t say I have.”
“Well, tonight’s your lucky night, hot tattooed guy. How much have you had to drink?”
“I’m completely sober,” I answer, unlike her. “I only just got here.” But I definitely need a stiff drink or two after this conversation. I don’t like being grilled, especially by a peculiar stranger.
“Good to know, because no one wants to hook up with a whiskey dick.”
“A whiskey what?”
“Dick. Alcohol-induced erectile disfunction … it’s a thing, trust me.” She is the second person today to doubt my capabilities. A man puts himself on a self-imposed break from dating and suddenly he’s impotent?
“I’ll take your word for it.”
“So, here is what’s going to happen, you’re going to show me your driver’s licence for precautionary reasons, and then you’re going to take my friend home and give her the best birthday ‘D’ in history.”
“And what exactly is birthday ‘D’?”
“Oh my God,” she groans, tilting her face to the ceiling. “You are lucky you’re good looking, because you’re not very smart, are you? ‘D’ for dick.”
This conversation is getting weirder by the second, and to be fair, I definitely feel like I’ve lost more than a few brain cells during this interrogation.
Clearing my throat, I cross my arms over my chest and rock back on my heals. “Just so we’re clear, you’re wanting me to take your friend home and give her some birthday dick?”
“You catch on fast, pretty boy.”
She holds her hand out in front of her, palm facing up. “Licence,” she says, wiggling her fingers.
“Why?”
“I need to see where you live.”
“Again, why?”
“Because if my BFF comes back upset, maimed, or unsatisfied, I know where to find you.”
“Unsatisfied?”
“You know … if you fail to give her all the ‘O’s.”
“And ‘O’ stands for?”
“Are you kidding me? Orgasms! Are you sure you’re up for the task?”
“I am, if she is … I’ve never forced myself onto anyone, and I’m not about to start now.”
“Great answer, you’ve past the test” she says, clapping her hands and jumping up and down on the spot. “You’re perfect for this mission.”
Against my better judgment, I slide my hand into my back pocket and retrieve my wallet. When I hold my licence out to her, she plucks her phone from her cleavage and snaps a quick picture of it.
Once she’s done, she reaches around behind me and smacks me on the arse. “Okay, you big sexy beast, we’re done here, go get your girl.”
