Page 104 of Rule 2: Never Join a Christmas Dating Show
“Don’t drill sergeants live with their soldiers?” Troy’s lips twitch. “I mean, we are in separate rooms.”
“I got a fleshlight!” I exclaim.
Troy’s jaw totally drops now, and he’s looking at me in a different, less teasing manner.
Different is good when he seemed to be onto me before. Definitely. Almost certainly.
“A fleshlight?”
“Yeah, one of those, um, sexual apparatus toys. Like a dildo but, um, opposite.”
His eyebrow raises. “You looking at dildos, Luke?”
“Well, I was more interested in the other experience,” I say, because I’ve got to make this lie convincing. “Not, obviously, that there’s anything wrong with people who buy, um, toys that offer the other experience. Like innies versus outies.”
“Maybe you’ll buy a dildo next.”
“Maybe.” I do my best casual shrug like it’s normal for me to discuss nonexistent sex toys with my super existent roommate.
Unfortunately, Troy’s eyes widen, well, super widely. I’m not sure I’m being convincing.
“It was an, um, super great fleshlight. Like, amazing.” I try to emote my voice in the way Aisha and Ella recommended when they said I needed a bit more passion when speaking about the women I’m dating.
Troy looks more puzzled than anything, and I won’t be one of those guys who leverages a sports career into a Hollywood career. OJ Simpson, I am not. Which is good for multiple reasons.
I refuse to look at my bed again, even though my gaze longs to drift that way. Not looking at Sebastian, even the blanket-and-sweatshirt shrouded version of him when he’s here feels wrong.
“Maybe I should get the name of that fleshlight,” Troy says, his smirk once again at his lips, and for a terrible moment I wonder if maybe I allowed my gaze to drift to the bed after all. Sebastian is magnetic.
“You want the name of the fleshlight?” I blink at him.
“Yeah. I mean, anything that would cause my staid, proper roommate to have multiple sex sessions during the night when he knows I’m in the next room must be super incredible.”
“Um...” My throat dries. I need water. I need this conversation to end. Now.
Troy leans forward, and his lips swerve upward. “I mean, you tell me which brand I should get for other things.”
I swallow hard. I suddenly wish I’d kept my shampoo recommendations secret from him. I have set precedent. I can’t deny that.
“Well...”
“Maybe you could show it to me,” Troy suggests, his eyes gleaming like a bad player who has been dealt an amazing hand.
“I threw it out!” I stammer.
“You did? Those things are supposed to last. You just need to clean it. It’s not a one-time use toy. We can fish it out of the trash.
I wonder if I should pretend I didn’t know that.
“I mean... I ruined it!”
“What?”
“It’s shredded now,” I explain.
“Shredded?” Troy’s mouth drops down. “You shredded your fleshlight?”
“Tiny pieces. So um I would show it to you if I could. But there’s, um, no way you could tell the model.”
