Page 170 of Unspoken Rules

“Your… eyebrows are neat?”

“Good god,” I groan, stabbing my fork into a piece of grilled chicken.

“What? You know how many guys have bushy ass eyebrows. Or worse? One eyebrow!”

I laugh, but it’s true. He’s not wrong.

Since returning from Oregon, Westley and I have gotten pretty close. He’s fun to be with and pretty chill, compared to some of the other guys. Not that anything is wrong with them, they just take a lot of energy out of me. Westley doesn’t do that.

“Okay, thanks. Your eyebrows are nice too.”

“Damn right they are. I get them done professionally.” He flashes me a bright smile.

“For a straight guy, you do a lot of un-straight-guy things.”

He presses a hand to his chest, mocking outrage. “Excuse me for taking care of myself.”

“Something a lot of grizzly ass straight men don’t do.”

“You’re not wrong,” he says, then leans in close. “Like Tyler in accounting.”

His eyes shift to the right, and I follow his line of sight. I have to cover my mouth to stop from laughing so hard as I set eyes on Tyler. Who has one eyebrow and clothes that are way too big.

“Poor thing,” I mutter. “You’re mean.”

“Poor us,” Westley retorts. “We have to look at him.”

“Where are we going?” I ask as I go back to my salad. Usually the guys go out on Friday, but no one seems to want to do anything tonight. Saving it for a Saturday usually means they plan to party harder.

“No clue,” he answers, leaning back in his chair and folding his hands together behind his head.

“It better not be another strip club.”

Westley rolls his lips between his teeth to stop from laughing. He points at me and says, “That was a good night.”

“Yeah, for all of you!”

“Watching that girl grind all over you? Oh, it was perfect. The look on your face? Priceless.”

“It was horrifying.” I shiver and take the last bite of my food.

“Please, she had a nice ass.”

“It wasn’t her ass that was the problem, it was just… all of it. I’d have felt the same if it were a guy. Public lap dances are not my thing.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

We fall into comfortable silence after that. We mess around on our phones while we let our food settle, then head up to the office together. The moment I’m back at my desk, I check my emails. There is a never-ending supply of them at all times.

The last three months have been better than I thought they could be. My life here is really settling in. I keep in touch with my friends back home. Chris and I don’t go longer than a day without texting the other, even if it’s just a check in. He seems to be doing really well. I talk to Mila all the time too, and she agrees that Chris is doing great. Apparently, they went on an actual date. One that went well, but I haven’t heard anything more than that. Chris doesn’t want to give out too many details, and I think Mila is afraid to hope for more.

Tomas and I chat now and then, just to update one another. I never brought up the stuff with his father and Cole and probably never will. It doesn’t matter to me what happened with them. Especially now that Chris doesn’t remember any of it.

It’s been radio silence from Cole.

Now and again, Chris will mention something to do with him. Like how they started up their Sunday breakfasts again. Or if they go out to dinner or a movie, but that’s about it.

I can’t say that I’m over him, because I still think about him multiple times a day and I hate it.

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