Page 42 of The Boyfriend Gamble

Oh for fuck’s sake. “You’ve never gotten hard for anyone, have you?”

The shaking of his head was accompanied by a purely miserable expression of pain. He blinked repeatedly.

“And it just had to be me.” Said more to myself, yet he nodded. I sighed. “What are we going to do about it?”

“Nothing.” He held out his hands as if trying to placate me.

It wasn’t working.

“I’m going to marry Josette. We’re going to build a life here. We’re going to raise a family and grow old. Our mothers will visit all the time and be happy grandmothers. They’ll forget about the pain of their childhoods because we’ll make them so happy.”

“And how, precisely, do you intend to get Josie pregnant if you can’t even get it up for her?” I’d thought his coloring couldn’t go more scarlet. I’d been wrong. Puce was apparently a thing.

“Uh…”

I waved my hand impatiently.

“Like…drugs…”

I arched an eyebrow. “You’re twenty-five years old, and you’re going to ask Dr. Raymond for boner drugs?” Our doctor was in his mid-forties and, although pretty progressive, would likely struggle with this one.You need to stop this. And yet, I wouldn’t. Far more people would be hurt if Josie and Felix didn’t go through with the marriage. Both took their vows seriously. They’d make a family. Somehow. And that wasn’t any of my business. “Well, I’ll be back tomorrow to finish off the flooring in the spare room.”

“I was going to paint it tonight.”

Offer to help.“Yeah, great. Well, see you later.” Before I did something stupid—like offering to show him how things should really be between two people who were attracted to each other, I bolted.

An hour later, as Wally and I battled for supremacy in ball hockey on the street, I knew I’d made the wrong choice.

“Jesus, Fogal, get your head out of your ass and play properly. You’re unfocused.” He leaned on his stick. “Or does some girl have your attention?” He tapped the ball on both sides, never letting it roll away.

“Uh…”

“Oh, like that is it?”

“Well…”

Wally eyed me. “Okay, it’s a guy, isn’t it? You’re always more intense when you’re seeing a guy. Which, as you know, is so not my thing. But each to his own. If you want to have some guy stick his dick up—”

I cleared my throat.

“Right, or you stick your dick—”

I coughed.

Finally, Wally glanced behind himself. He waved. “Hey, Ma, how’s it going?”

Christie waved back. “You boys want some lemonade?”

Since I lived in a condo and Wally lived in a townhouse, we had to come to his mom’s place when we wanted to play hockey on the streets. Somehow, playing in the schoolyard didn’t feel the same. Quintessentially Canadian meant playing in the road and dragging the net to the side when a car drove by. Christie lived on a cul-de-sac, so we hardly encountered any cars.

“Only if it’s got vodka,” Wally shot back. “Jacob’s got girl troubles.” He grinned. “Oh, sorry, boy troubles.”

I advanced on him and without warning, bodychecked him. Then I got the ball and shot it into the net. Finally, I glanced up to meet Christie’s gaze. “Not this time, Mrs. Stevenson, but thank you. I need to be getting home. Early up, you know?”

“Your mom says you’re doing a great job on the renovation, that’s very kind of you.”

Instead of responding, I merely nodded, then grabbed one of the nets.

Wally sighed and grabbed the other.

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