Page 53 of Bad at Love

“Oh, yes, you are. Right now. Come on. Let’s go.” She taps the table. “Spill.”

“There’s nothing to say. It just sort of… happened.”

She squeals, tapping her feet on the floor.

“What exactly is it that happened?”

“I don’t know… stuff.”

I pick up my burger and take a bite, hoping my chewing will make her back off. Of course, it doesn’t.

“What sort of stuff? Don’t skimp, Gabriel. I’m a doctor. I’ve heard and seen it all. I bet you’re the bottom, aren’t you? You totally are.”

I choke on my food, reaching for my water to wash it down.

“I am not.”

She narrows her eyes, quiet for a few seconds before saying, “You didn’t get that far.”

How in the world does she know these things? How does she read me so easily?

“Just oral, am I right?” she adds.

I shake my head and focus on my food because I am not having this conversation with her, especially not here and while I’m trying to eat. She goes on and on with her theories while I try to enjoy my lunch. I try to drown her out, but it does no good. I hear everything she says, and it has me thinking about Storm and the way his mouth feels. I’m hard as a rock in the hospital cafeteria. It’s awful.

“Okay, okay,” I relent when she just won’t stop. My head falls back on my shoulders and I glance up at the high ceiling,blowing out a breath before meeting her eyes. “Yes, it was only oral. He did it to me. That’s it.”

She scoffs. “Now that’s rude, Gabriel. You couldn’t even return the favor? I know you have better manners than that.”

My cheeks heat. “I just… I don’t… It didn’t come up, okay?”

“Come up?” She gapes. “Comeup? What does that even mean? It isn’t a discussion. You just do it. You see he is hard, you put it in your mouth.”

“Marta!” I hiss under my breath. “Don’t say that.”

“Fine.” She throws her hands up, frowning at me. “But this will be good for you.” She gets to her feet. “You’re too tense all the time. You need to relax a little, and by the way you look today, I’d say this is working. So make sure you return the favor so he doesn’t stop doing whatever he’s doing.”

She pats me on the shoulder as she walks away, trash in her other hand, laughing under her breath.

If I don’t return the favor, he’s going to stop?

I suppose that makes sense, and I already considered that being an issue. But what I need to do is focus on the point. On why we started doing this anyway—money. Storm is very vocal when I’m in his room. I’m sure if he wanted me to return the favor, he would just say it.

The rest of the day goes by way too slowly. I can’t wait to get home and talk to him about this before things get out of control. Just to be safe, I send him a text to let him know it needs to happen.

Storm is pulling two bottles of water from the fridge when I walk into the house.

“Just in time. I made dinner.”

“You made dinner?” I ask, pausing to close the door.

“Cooked on the grill,” he amends.

Oh, okay. That’s safe. He cooks on the grill well, something I’m not great at. I let him cook dinner inside once and it was a disaster. Best he doesn’t attempt it again. I close and lock the door, then head into the kitchen.

“Barbeque chicken, roasted veggies, and potatoes.”

“This looks delicious,” I say as I pull out the chair and take a seat. The plates are already set on the table, still steaming. He puts the water bottle in front of me, then sits across from me.

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