The pendulum had swung the other way with Trevor. On paper, he had seemed like the right guy, but our sex life had been pretty dismal.

Which brings me to Daniel and Sebastian. They are two of the hottest guys I’ve seen in a long time, guys whose sex appeal exudes off them in powerful waves. Guys who make my body tighten with longing.

You must have misunderstood them, Bailey, I tell myself. Guys like that aren’t interested in you. In many parts of the world, men are attracted to curvy women, but North America isn’t one of them. Here, men who look more like gods don’t date chubby girls. They date supermodels.

But they’d been nice. When Daniel had smiled at me, the warmth and sincerity were hard to disguise. When Sebastian had grinned conspiratorially at me, I’d felt included. I’d wanted to belong in their little charmed circle.

Gabby’s the only one of us who’s been with more than one person at the same time. In March, she met two men at a bar, and she’d gone to their hotel room. Best sex I’ve ever had, she said dreamily, when she told us. Even now, two months after the fact, I know she can’t forget that one-night stand.

I wonder what it would be like to be with both Sebastian and Daniel. Two men, one with chocolate-brown eyes, the other with eyes that remind me of the ocean. Two strong bodies. For an instant, I close my eyes and allow myself to imagine what it would feel like to be sandwiched between them, engulfed in their heat. Four hands would caress every inch of my body. Two mouths would pleasure me. Two sets of eyes would look at me, heavy with lust.

Yeah. That’s going to happen. Get your head out of your ass, Bailey Moore.

* * *

“Level with me, Bailey. You’re attracted to them, aren’t you?”

I’m having lunch with Gabby Monday afternoon at a small Italian bistro overlooking Washington Square park. The Thursday Night Drinking Pack couldn’t meet this evening. Katie’s husband Adam is out of town and she can’t find a sitter for the twins. Piper’s bowed out as well, and Wendy’s texted us that she’s going to be working late. Since that just left Gabby and me, we decided to take advantage of the lovely spring day and meet for lunch instead.

There’s a mountain of corrections at my desk that I’m playing hooky from. My colleagues in the science world can test their undergraduates with multiple-choice questions. I have no such luck. In Cultural Anthropology 101 at NYU, the students write essays. Five 25-page essays per student per semester, essays that need to be read and corrected - by me.

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“I didn’t say that.”

“No, you didn’t,” she agrees with a grin. “However, you have spent the last five minutes talking about how kind they were. How nice. And when I asked what they looked like, you went bright red.” She winks at me. “Also, your nipples are hard.”

“They are not.” I look down automatically, and her chuckle turns into a full-throated laugh. “Damn it, Gabby. Maybe I’m just attracted to you.”

She’s not fazed. “Sorry, dollface, you aren’t my type.”

“Dollface?”

She shrugs. “Someone I know speaks like that,” she says vaguely. “Stop changing the subject. Talk to me about Daniel and Sebastian. Which one do you want?”

If she thought I was blushing earlier, I wonder what she thinks of my coloring now. “It doesn’t matter,” I mutter. “It’s not all about what I want. They have to want me, and that’s not going to happen.”

“Hang on.” She leans forward, her pasta primavera forgotten. “You didn’t say Daniel had to want you. Or Sebastian had to want you. You said they.”

I can’t keep the defensiveness out of my voice. “It doesn’t matter,” I repeat. “My fantasies don’t count.”

“So you have been fantasizing about them?”

“A little bit,” I confess, lying only a little. I’ve been fantasizing a lot. “Does that make me weird? I mean, shouldn’t I be fantasizing about the perfect white dress, a house in the ‘burbs and two-point-five children instead?”

Gabby shakes her head. “You are an adventurer, Bails. Why on earth would your fantasies be conventional? You love to explore. You need someone that can keep up with that.” She giggles. “Or two someones.” She sips her iced tea. After a pause, she adds, “I could never understand why you dated Trevor. He was stodgy. And more than that, he wasn’t nice.”




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