Page 14 of Dare to be Different

“I didn’t fucking lie! It just never came up.” My god, he’s pissing me off. Remy and I never fight, and now this is getting between us just because we haven’t had a formal conversation about it? I don’t do formal. Shit happens. We discover it, discuss it, end of story. That’s how it’s always worked, and that’s how it’s going now, so he can fuck off about trust. Of course I trust him. “I just didn’t expect you to be judgy about it.”

“Jesus fuck, Zahn.” He groans, shaking his head. “I’m not judging you. I’d never judge you. Why do you think I am?”

“Because you’re fighting with me about it.” I laugh, but it’s not a humorous laugh. “I’m done. I’m going home.”

He grabs my keys so I can’t reach them. “You aren’t driving. And I’m only pissed off because you didn’t tell me all your shit. I wanna know everything about you, for fuck’s sake!”

I reach for my keys again, but Remy pulls them back. So, naturally, I decide to push all his buttons and become an asshole. He says this won’t make him uncomfortable? Let’s find out.

I lean into his body, chest to chest, and fight him for the keys. “This weird you out now that you know? You think I’m coming on to you?”

“Don’t be a dick.”

“I’m not. I’m proving a point. You’re being weird, and this is exactly what I didn’t want.” It’s a lie. He’s not being weird, I am, and I never feared telling him anything about me. It literally just never came up. My mind works in simple ways like that.

“I’m being weird?” he asks, pressing his chest to mine and calling my bluff. He leans in close, pushing me against the cabinets. “I can be a dick right back, Zahn. You can’t out-dick me, so stop trying.” He glares at me, not at all shying away. “This changes nothing. It only proves you’re an asshole.”

“Yeah,” I agree, deflating. “An asshole who doesn’t care if it’s a guy or a girl who gets me off.” I push him away from my body. “An asshole who can’t get off with just one person anymore. An asshole who needs constant change in order to get his rocks off. An asshole with a messed up mind and no idea what to do with it.” I look right at him. “An asshole who only got off with those two chicks the other night because it was a group fuck and I got to watch you with them, too. How’s my confiding going now? Still want to know all my thoughts?” I lift a brow at him.

“Yes,” he hisses. “All of them. My mind ain’t no fairytale either.”

I laugh at that. “Really? Because from where I’m sitting lately, half the time it seems like you don’t even like sex. You back out of hooking up all the time lately.” No shame in that, but I need him to vent to me about it or something.

“Yeah,” he scoffs, but it comes out sounding like a pathetic laugh. “I do.”

“Why?”

“Because it weirds me the fuck out to go off somewhere with a complete stranger just to fuck and leave. It never used to bother me, but it makes me uncomfortable lately. Lame, I know, but I can’t help it.”

I tilt my head at him. “You did it the other night when we went to that hotel room.”

“Because you were there. You aren’t a stranger. I literally picked those two because I knew it’d rope you into coming with me.” He shrugs. “It just puts me off now, like it’s awkward and I can’t get into it.”

I shove him in the shoulder. “Why didn’t you tell me that?” I fire his own question at him. “I’m your best friend!” I laugh at the hypocrisy of this conversation.

“Because it’s embarrassing!” He laughs. “I’m too much of a coward to get laid because I’m scared of the awkwardness.” He blushes, taking another drink. “Oh my god, I’m such a fucking twat.”

“My twat.” I laugh. “Maybe you need a steady girlfriend. No more random hookups, yeah? I swear to fuck if she takes you from me though, I’ll scare her off. We’re a package deal.”

He chuckles, running his hand through his blond hair. “I don’t really want that. I like the thrill of it, I just hesitate at the last minute. I want it, but I back out because I get weird. It feels better when you’re there. Even tonight. Tonight would never have happened if you weren’t here.”

“You actually want me there during your hookups?”

“Kinda,” he admits, looking at the floor. “Fucked, eh?”

Nah. I’m down with it. “I’ll always be your wingman, bud. You should have told me.”

“You should have told me you’re… flexible.” He pauses. “Open? Bi? Pan? Fuck, whatever you are. Whatever term.”

“No label.” I shrug.

In true Remy form, he asks exactly what’s on his mind. “Have you fucked a guy?”

I pour us each a shot. “No.”

“Would you?”

“I guess. I’d fuck anything if it was hot enough and the mood was right.” I laugh.

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