Page 132 of Taste of Thorns
“How about you, Fly?” Clare says, staring unblinking at him through her glasses, “how’s your love life going?”
“Mine?”
“Yes, yours,” I say, passing him his wine.
“Do I have a love life?”
“I didn’t think so,” Clare admits, “but then I did observe a certain redhead leaving your tower yesterday morning.”
“Fly!” I screech, pretending to be scandalized. It may be weird talking about these things when we’ll be facing anotherdeadly trial in only a matter of days, but it’s nice to experience some normalcy for once. Too many of my days have been spent thinking about what’s coming and trying my best to prepare.
Fly takes his wine and mumbles something into the rim as he swallows a large mouthful.
“What was that?” I say, noticing how my friend fidgets slightly on the carpet.
He swallows. “I may have spent the last few nights with the redhead.”
“I thought that was just a onetime only thing?”
“It was. But, if I’m honest, I’ve always been interested. I just didn’t think he was. Which was fine. I was happy with my one-night stand.”
“Of course, he’d want more than a one-night stand,” I reassure my friend, “you’re fabulous.”
“It seems he agrees because now it’s become a friends-with-benefits thing and as the benefits,” he raises an eyebrow, “happen to be very big, very very big, I am more than satisfied with the arrangement.”
“How about you, Briony? How are things going with all your men?” Clare asks.
“Gosh, Clare, you make it sound like I’m dating an entire army of men.”
“Aren’t you?” Fly says.
“No, four. Just four.”
“Justfour.” Fly cackles.
“I honestly don’t know how you find the time and energy,” Clare says, “having a boyfriend can be quite demanding.”
“Especially when he wants to practice his tongue skills all the time,” Fly says, winking at her. Fly turns to face me. “What Clare really wants to know is if you’re fucking them all at once? Have you had a fivesome yet?”
“That was not what I was thinking!” Clare squeals, cheeks flaming, but I have a suspicion it was.
“Not exactly,” I confess.
Fly motions his now empty glass at me and I fill him up. “Go on …”
“Well, I can’t touch Thorne and he can’t touch me,” I remind them, “and Fox requires a fair bit of sneaking around with. I don’t know what would happen to him if we were caught.” I chew on my lip. “But Dray and Beaufort …”
“Dray and Beaufort …?” Fly prompts.
“We’ve done some stuff together.”
“A threesome?”
I smile slyly, and sip at my wine.
“Stars,” Fly fans his face, “that is one sandwich I would want to be in the middle of.”
“How does that work exactly?” Clare says, tilting her head to one side, clearly trying to imagine it.
