Biting her lower lip, considering her thoughts, Josie cringed. “Yeeeesssss. Once.”
“AND YOU NEVER TOLD ME?”
“I was too ashamed.”
Shame. Was Laura supposed to feel shame right now, after what had happened with Mike and Dylan? She didn’t. And didn’t think she ever would. Shame might have been front and center in her chaotic bundle of twisted emotion with the two men, but it had faded fast. That shame had been less about the pleasure they’d just shared and more about her worry that she was the butt of some cruel joke. Once she had some distance, her wise mind kicked in. What did she have to be ashamed of? She’d done nothing wrong.
Neither had Dylan and Mike. Well, at least, not in terms of the threesome. Behind the scenes was a whole ’nother issue...
Defiance rose up, welling like a geyser, ready to explode. “I’m not ashamed.”
“I never said you should be. Frankly, I’m— impressed. Stunned. Gobsmacked.” Josie chuckled, sitting on the couch and folding her tiny legs under herself, looking like a kitten curled up on the sofa. “You amaze me. Laura, you have found it all. Are they really as hot in real life as they are in those pictures?”
That brought Laura up short, and all she could do was to slump down on the couch across from Josie and blink. Found it all. Dylan, with his swagger and zest for life. Mike, with his quiet contemplation and steady sweetness. The two really did complement each other and when you put them together with her they made—
Everything.
“What about the fact that they ganged up on me? Hid their real relationship with each other from me? I mean, I felt so, so—caught off guard. There I was, naked and in bed with Mike, and oh, hi! Dylan pops in.”
“Sounds like the beginning to every other letter in Penthouse Forum. ’dear Penthouse Forum, I was minding my own business trimming my rose bushes in the buff when the mailman and the meter reader just popped in...’”
The pillow wasn’t hard enough to knock Josie down, but Laura threw it anyhow. A brick would have been better. “It’s not like that.”
“Then what is it like, Laura?” Josie frowned. “It was voluntary, right?”
Huh? “What do you—oh!” Laura pressed her fingertips to her lips. “Oh, no, no, no, Josie it wasn’t— yes. It was completely voluntary.” Both women exhaled.
“Good.” Josie chuckled. “You had me worried there when you said ‘it’s not like that.’ What did you mean?” She played with the loose tassel on a throw pillow as Laura thought for a moment, pulling her feet under her in a mimic of Josie.
“Uh, I meant that it wasn’t cheap and tawdry, like those Penthouse letters. Dylan shocked me—can you imagine one guy you’re dating walking in on you having sex with someone else?”
Josie reddened. “Um. Well. Ah. Uh...”
“Is there anything you haven’t done?” Laura screeched.
“My situation didn’t exactly end like yours!” Josie shouted back. “You ever try to get dressed while crawling out a second-story window?”
Dumbstruck, Laura squinted at her friend and shook her head slowly. “Sometimes I don’t think I even know you.”
“College was a time of exploration.”
“Translation: I also slept with a lot of professors.”
Josie shrugged. “Can’t get through organic chemistry any other way.”
An ambulance flew past, the lights spreading a disconcerting disco glow throughout Laura’s living room. The clock read 3 a.m. What kind of friend comes over in the dead of night with one call?
The kind who, apparently, fucked her way to a high GPA. Laura tucked this detail away for later. Right now, she had her own mess at hand.
“I feel like a freak, Josie.” Laura wailed, rubbing her eyes. She peeked through her fingers. “Though less of a freak now that you’ve shared.”
“I’m a giver.”
“You’re a—well, that’s one word. I guess I’m a giver, too. More like a sucker.” Laura straightened her shirt and cracked her neck. Aches began to emerge. Minor pains that reminded her of the contortions she had engaged in hours ago. Delicious twists and flexes. “And I mean it—I feel like a freak.”
“No, you don’t. You just think you should feel like a freak. Deep down, Laura, you don’t—not really.” How could Josie be so sure?
“How do you know what I feel?”
“I know you feel like buying me a latte.” She sized Laura up. “Nope. Scratch that. This is definitely more than a latte conversation. We need us some pancake breakfast at a sugar shack.”