He looks kind of green at that one, and I can’t help but laugh.
“Sorry, dude. You’re really not my type.”
The lame joke hits way harder than it should, and before I know it, we’re both clutching our sides, laughing our asses off at each other. A waitress comes up smiling at us both, takes our orders for another round, and leaves, shaking her head.
“Shit, I haven’t laughed that hard in ages,” I say.
“Same. But don’t think I haven’t noticed that you still haven’t answered my question,” says West. “I take it that means Nic is the first guy you’ve… noticed?”
I nod slowly. Laughing that hard has taken the awkwardness out of the conversation, cutting off my fear at its knees.
“I guess maybe I might have noticed once or twice before, but yeah. Yeah, he’s pretty much the first.”
“And you think he’s into men?”
That look at the elevator. “If he isn’t, I’m fucked.”
West snorts. “If he is, you’re fucked. Or maybe you haven’t worked out the top or bottom issue yet.”
I feel the blood draining from my face, my eyebrows crawling up my forehead. West starts laughing again, but it’s quieter now.
“Dude, relax. Relax. It’s not a zero-sum game. Don’t let it freak you out. You guys will figure it out.” The waitress brings the next round. “So, how does Natalie fit into all this?”
“He wants her, too. And I’m pretty sure she’s interested in him. I don’t know how that all shakes out, but…”
“You think you might be ready for throuple-dom?”
I frown. “Is that what it’s called?” There has to be a better word than that.
West grins. “Call it whatever you like. You got pictures of them?”
I grin back, pulling up a photo I’d snapped of Nic in the office a few days ago, speaking sternly into his phone, all button-down shirt, shirtsleeves, and suspenders. Then I flip to a selfie I’d taken of me and Natalie before dinner the other night.
“Damn.”
“Nice work, right?”
“Goddamn,” he says, looking at the photo of Natalie again. I flip my phone over and scowl at him.
“Aren’t you happily monogam—diagam—You’ve already got your hands full, you prick.”
West laughs. For the first time in weeks, it feels like we might really get back to our old selves, only better this time, because there aren’t any more secrets. At least, I don’t think there are any more secrets left.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” West asks, looking over the top of his glass.
“What do you mean?”
“I mean, you know what you want. How are you going to get it?”
Condensation runs down the glass between my palms, so I scrub my hands on my jeans to dry them.
“I don’t know. Nic’s already warned me off about treating Natalie with respect.” I tell him about Nic’s dad coming on to Natalie that day. “I don’t know if Nic would make a move on somebody who works for him, not after seeing the way he handled his old man.”
“You work for him,” West points out.
“Yeah. This whole thing might be DOA.”
“With that attitude, absolutely.”