Page 10 of The Virgin
The sound of his front door opening and closing got Jonah’s attention, and he called out to his friends that he’d be right out. He quickly dressed and almost splashed on cologne but decided that would be too much. Being nervous was stupid, but that didn’t stop his stomach from turning into a whirlpool of anxiety.
Damon and Spencer were in the kitchen. Spencer was putting the beer away in the fridge and fighting off a snoopy Damon, who wanted to peek in the covered bowl.
“Is that potato salad?” Damon asked Jonah.
“It is,” Jonah confirmed, much to his friend’s delight.
“Fuck, yes.” Damon grabbed a soda from the fridge and cracked it open.
“You act like you didn’t text me last week specifically begging me to make it for you.” Jonah waved off the beer Spencer offered him. “Not yet, thanks.”
Spencer put the beer back and grabbed a bottle of water for him, handing it over silently. Jonah took it so he’d have something to do with his hands.
“You’re not drinking?” Damon asked.
It wasn’t like Jonah was a big drinker, but he always drank when they did dinners. But today his stomach was a storming ocean, and he didn’t trust the foamy beverage to stay where he put it.
“I had a date last night, and it didn’t go so well. I might have overdone it afterward.”
Damon frowned. “Sorry to hear that. Is there anything I can do?”
Not unless he was willing to pin Jonah down and take his virginity. The idea of Damon doing that was absolutely unappealing. Spencer, on the other hand… Spencer with his big powerful hands that created beautiful things from nothing. That thought wouldn’t stop rolling around in Jonah’s brain. It wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t get Spencer’s stupid hands off his mind. It was left over from the booze-addled hug last night. The embrace had put ideas into Jonah’s head. Wonderful, awful, terrible ideas.
“Nah, I’m fine.” It was close enough to the truth that it didn’t taste like a lie, but he sensed Spencer’s gaze lingering on him questioningly. Cracking his water open, he took a tentative sip. It settled in his stomach just fine, which was honestly a miracle. “I should get the grill going. I’ll be right back.”
Jonah ducked out the patio door that opened up to his postage stamp-sized back yard. The yards were all separated by a privacy fence that was tall enough it let him forget he had neighbors when he was outside. When the weather allowed, and he had time, curling up in his hammock with a book was one of his favorite ways to wind down.
No wonder he’d never gotten laid, he thought. Too busy reading and avoiding meaningful interactions with people outside of his direct bubble to form a relationship with a man that might lead to something other than small talk, shitty food, and bad dates that ended with Jonah and his right hand. As usual.
Spencer slipped outside as Jonah finished getting the grill lit.
“You okay?” Spencer asked, keeping his voice low.
“I’m fine.” Jonah mustered up a smile. “Thanks for asking. Where’s Damon?”
“Bathroom.” Spencer took a breath and Jonah did his best to keep his attention on the grill, but he could only dawdle for so long.
“What?” he asked, closing the lid of the barbeque so it could preheat.
“You know you don’t have to keep everything bottled up all the time, right? I’m your best friend.”
“I know.” Jonah nodded. “Thanks.”
He didn’t know how to say more than that, even though he wished he could. Part of him wanted to sit down with Spencer, curl up into his side, and talk until his tongue fell out of his head. But he had no desire to burden Spencer with his silly bullshit. If Jonah’s biggest problem in life was his lack of physical intimacy, then he had it pretty fucking good, right?
Damon came outside and flopped down in a patio chair, ending any further questioning from Spencer. Leaning back, Damon draped himself in the chair like a king on a throne. He tossed a leg over the arm of the chair and turned his hat backward.
“It’s like you don’t even know how to sit,” Jonah said, taking a seat next to him.
“It’s the bisexual in me. None of us know how to sit properly.”
“Don’t believe everything you read on the internet.” Spencer shook his head and took the seat across from Damon, putting Jonah between them.
“I saw another help wanted sign in the diner,” Damon said, clearly fishing for the inside scoop. Jonah and his brothers had taken turns working at their dad’s diner at one time or another. But it was Jonah’s youngest brother, Taylor, who’d stayed on. At twenty-one, when most of his friends were off at college, Taylor was happy working with their dad. He’d recently become accomplished enough in the kitchen that he could run it blindfolded with one arm tied behind his back.
“If you’re looking for gossip, you won’t find it.” Jonah leaned back in his chair and craned his neck, trying to work out a kink he’d gotten sometime in the night. “One of the staff went back to school, and they need to fill a gap in the schedule. There was no dramatic exit, no big juicy story to tell you. Sorry to disappoint.”
“Taylor still works there?” Damon asked.
