Page 16 of Lethal Seduction

“But you said you didn’t think he was gay.”

I turn to look her in the eyes and with as much sass as I can muster say with a shrug, “As cute and well-groomed as he is, there’s no way he’s completely straight.”

"I know you think everyone is gay, but that doesn’t make it true." Tina must be feeling better because she starts devouring her chicken sandwich and fries like it’s going to be her last meal. Bits of lettuce fall to the tray below. I wince when I watch ketchup and mayonnaise begin to glob out from the bottom of the bun, drip off onto her hands, and coat the small diamond ring she wears on her pinky finger. If she doesn’t slow down now, there’s absolutely no way she’ll fit into the dress of her dreams. Not to mention, I’d hate for her to choke on one of her acrylic nails.

I shake my head and hand her a napkin. “Tina, focus for a second. I know you didn’t eat all day because you wanted tofit into an inhuman-sized dress, but slow down. You’re going to choke."

She makes a spectacle of dropping the remaining sandwich and then slowly cleans her hand with the napkin. Finally, she leans forward, elbows on the table, fingers interlaced together in front of her and says, "Okay, what’s so important?"

Shit, the moment has passed but it’s impossible to change the subject at this point. "I haven’t… you know."

"What? You haven’t what?"

I wag my eyebrows up and down and click the side of my tongue trying to suggest my meaning rather than say it out loud.

"I don’t speak seagull… or Klingon or whatever the hell you’re trying to pull off here."

We both laugh and I feel my face grow hot with embarrassment. I have no doubt she knows exactly what I mean, but it isn’t as much fun for her unless I say it.

"It’s been a while since I… you know… got laid." My words are barely audible, even to myself.

Her eyes go wide. "Wait, what? You went out on all those Tinder dates a few months ago." She looks around the mall’s food court as if she’s trying to find someone to explain this nonsense to her. "Are you telling me that you went out on all those dates and what? Gave each other head and a high five?"

"First of all, keep your voice down." I look at the young woman covering the ears of her kid at the table next to ours. I mouth the words "I’m sorry" before turning back to Tina. "I made up all the stories I told you about the dates. I embellished them… and I’m sorry."

"You lied?" Her expression breaks my heart. She’s truly upset, and I don’t blame her. We’ve never lied to each other before and I feel like scum.

"I know I made it seem like I was a player but…"

"Stop right there," Tina says. "Nobody ever thought you were a player. Trust me on that."

"Okay, fine, but I am really sorry."

"You never went out on the dates?"

I shake my head. "No, I did go. I would meet them at the bar or a restaurant and they would either not show up or were nearly unrecognizable. I swear so many of them were using pictures that were at least ten or more years old."

"Like a silver daddy?" Tina raises an eyebrow.

"No, like a sun-dried raisin," I say. "Had it been a silver daddy… like the guy at the coffee shop, I would have opened up like a blossoming rose."

Tina reaches across the table and grabs my hands. Her sticky fingers are so comforting I want to cry. "Oh, bestie. I’m so sorry. I don’t consider that lying. You were in one of those situations you didn’t even want to admit to yourself."

"You’re not mad?"

"Nope." She lets my hand go and picks up her sandwich. "Just don’t withhold any information from me in the future and all is well."

"I love you, bestie. Thank you for being so understanding."

"Of course," she says with a smile before dragging her finger through the globs of mayo on the tray. She quickly makes love to her finger, sucking it down to the last knuckle and moaning. "Damn, I love condiments."

I look over at the table next to us and sigh in relief when I realize the mom has ushered her kid out of the area. I don’t blame the woman; we can be super inappropriate in public when discussing sex, but it is kind of our thing.

"Let’s get back to discussing the guy in the coffee shop," she says. "If he is gay… do you think he could be your type?"

I think about it for a few seconds and shrug. “Honestly, I don’t know what my type is anymore. It’s been far too long sinceI’ve sucked a dick, I can barely even remember what they taste like.”

“Delicious,” she says. “They taste absolutely delicious.”

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