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“So, we all have wonderful memories. We’re all cool, like we said this morning? It was mind blowing sex and none of us wants to take it back?”
Colin shrugged, but it looked like he was fighting a smile.
One corner of Daria’s mouth tugged up and she met my gaze. “Do we have to raise our hands to ask a question, too?”
“You didn’t raise your hand, so obviously not,” I teased.
Her smile grew. “I didn’t want anyone to think I had regrets.”
“We should do something not-sexy,” Colin said.
I understood his point, but I wished I didn’t. “Three people with incredible chemistry sharing a bed? It’s all sexy.”
Daria snorted. “That’s such a man thing to say.”
“You disagree?” I kept my tone light, but I didn’t try to hide the challenge in my question.
“No, but I know better than to say it out loud.”
“We could watch movies.” Colin still sounded flat. He wasn’t quite with us.
There had to be some way to help him feel more at ease again.
“What’s the least sexy movie you can think of?” Daria asked.
My balls ached and my brain was still trying to work on a less than optimal blood supply, but I was an adult and I could think through arousal without getting off. And maybe make Colin smile again. “Fantastic Four.”
“The ones with Chris Evans or the remake?” Colin went straight for the bait.
Daria’s mouth formed anO. “He’s pretty sexy.”
Colin felt the same and he never made a secret of it. “She saidleast sexymovie, notworstmovie.” Some of the playfulness was emerging in Colin’s voice.
I scoffed. “Worst movie I can think of isJustice League.”
“How dare you?” Daria’s shrill disdain was exaggerated.
Colin grinned. “Aquaman gives him performance anxiety.”
I couldn’t believe he went there. I grabbed a pillow and lobbed it at him.
Daria snagged it out of the air with a smoothness that most basketball coaches wished could be taught. “Pillow fights are definitely sexy.”
“In movies. They’re not in real life,” Colin said with a kind of authority that implied he had personal experience.
Did he? Because now I was picturing Daria and Colin, in their lightweight clothing with minimal to no support, bouncing around on the bed, trying to avoid pillows. That would definitely be sexy. I knew better than to say it aloud this time. “Game of Thrones.”
Colin’s expression faltered. “There are tits and peens everywhere.”
“But would you call it sexy?” Apparently a lot of things turned me on, but Hodor’s dick never had.
Daria shook her head. “I would not. Let’s do it.” She grabbed a remote from the bedside table and turned on the TV over her dresser.
We settled in to watch the show, each of us picking a different spot on the bed to sit. It was disappointing but it made sense. Colin and I had seen the first few seasons multiple times, and it was clear from the way Daria bounced her commentary off ours that she had too.
About the time Ned Stark arrived in King’s Landing, Daria’s phone rang. She glanced at the screen. “My own small council beckons. Be right back.” She stepped out of the room and was closing the door before she said “Hey, Sweetie. How was your day?”
Her kids.
