Total pages in book: 102
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98909 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 495(@200wpm)___ 396(@250wpm)___ 330(@300wpm)
A very very very bad sign.
It’s all well and good to have some casual fun with a friend who knows what he’s getting into. And I sympathize with Keaton’s sexual confusion, even if I don’t share it.
But we’re neighbors, and we’re going to be frat brothers for another year and a half. It’s a bad idea for me to blow his mind. Not if it puts him into a tailspin.
I take my phone out of my pocket and open the app. It only takes me a second to do the right thing.
Sorry, not interested. You and I are a bad idea.
Punctuation Saves Lives
Keaton
I put everything I’ve got into my internship essay. I mean, it’s the only bright light in my shitty week. My girlfriend was spotted dining out with a lacrosse player. My ex-girlfriend, that is. When will I get used to saying that?
Meanwhile, my hot neighbor made it perfectly clear that I won’t be broadening my horizons with him again anytime soon. And instead of feeling relieved, I wake up every morning picturing his lips wrapped around my dick. And hearing his voice tell me to lie there and take it.
I think I want to do it again. At least one more time. Or maybe ten. I don’t know what that means exactly, but the thoughts, the fantasies, aren’t going away.
And because life is cruel, I seem to run into him everywhere now. Our new semester schedules must be more closely aligned than before, because he’s naked in the shower whenever I need the bathroom. Or he’s chatting up the cute barista in my favorite coffee shop when I stop there between classes.
Fuck me. I’m single, I’m a little depressed, and I’m very horny, with a side of sexual confusion, too.
Then again, I’m a man who does not complain. So you won’t hear any whining from me. But football season is over, and my single status leaves me with a lot of free time.
I’m at loose ends until Friday night, when I find out that it’s Owen’s birthday. “You have to come out with us, Keat!” he says. “It’s gonna be epic.”
“Where are we going?” I ask, trying to sound upbeat. Maybe a night of carousing will improve my mood.
“He’s turning twenty-one,” Tanner says. “Time to hit the titty bars!”
“You just want to see Cassidy dance again.” He’s taken out the dancer he met at Luke’s Dance-off party twice already.
“Sue me!” My friend shrugs. “We’re going to have a great time. Kinda pricey, but you only turn twenty-one once, right, Owen?” He slaps the guy on the back.
So that’s how I find myself showering to go out.
Naturally, Luke is in our bathroom brushing his teeth when I walk in. I turn on the shower and then stand there in my towel while the water heats.
“Bunch of us are going out for Owen’s birthday,” I say awkwardly. “You should come.”
“Gotta work,” he replies. “Later!” He leaves without so much as a glance in my direction.
Right.
“Who’s the designated driver?” Owen asks as we pile into two cars, including mine.
Silence.
I let out a groan. “Really? You brought me along so that I could Uber you around?”
“We could take an actual Uber,” someone points out.
Grumbling, I start the car. The strip club my friends picked is not close by, and I guess I’d rather drive and drink only two beers than rely on ride-share apps.
They direct me inland, near the casinos, to a big parking lot in front of two clubs. One of them is called Jack’s and the other one is Jill’s.
We hop out of the car. I lock it and follow my brothers toward the buildings. They head left toward Jill’s, instead of right.
“Um, guys?” I stop and study the buildings. There aren’t any neon boobs or other tacky markings to distinguish the two. But I’m pretty sure that Jill’s is meant to beckon to women. “Don’t we want Jack’s?”
“Well, Zimmer isn’t here,” Owen says. “And clearly the rest of us are into Jills.”
As far as you know. But that’s beside the point. “But there’s an apostrophe. Jill’s is possessive...”
“You mean Jill is a jealous bitch?” Tanner quips, and everyone laughs.
“No, I…” I sigh. “Go on. You’ll see. It’ll be tonight’s fun little lesson in grammar. Who’s getting the first lap dance?”
“Cassidy says they don’t do lap dances here,” Tanner says. “Sadly.”
You won’t be sorry about that in a second. If I’m right, this crew won’t be wanting a lap dance at Jill’s.
Tanner opens the door and gleefully waves everyone inside.
I’m the last to walk in. And I don’t miss the frown of confusion on the female hostess’s face. “Evening, boys,” she says. “I think I should point out that—”
I put a finger to my lips. “This shouldn’t take long, but it will amuse me.”
She laughs and then shrugs. “No cover charge, then.”