Give Tracy and Connor some alone time

RIA

“Sounds good,” Shane said. “I’d never forgive myself if I cock blocked those guys, after all this.”

So we waved goodbye to our friends and said we’d be back before midnight. Neither of them seemed particularly concerned that we were leaving.

Looking back, I wish I’d let myself enjoy dinner a bit more. We’d chosen a cozy, candle-lit Italian place that turned out to have some pretty amazing food. Great presentation, great flavor, great everything. But my mind was elsewhere, for obvious reasons.

“What aren’t you telling me?” Shane asked, raising a suspicious eyebrow. Something in his tone of voice made me wonder if he already knew the answer.

My cheeks turned warm and I quickly muttered, “I don’t know what you’re talking about!”

With an exasperated sigh, he rolled his eyes and let the matter drop. He and I both knew it was only a matter of time before I told him everything. My ability to keep secrets from my husband was basically as non-existent as my ability to shoot laser beams from my vagina.

It wasn’t that I didn’t want to tell him. All day, I’d been fit to burst, dying to regale Shane with details of my sexy night with Tracy. Thinking about it even got me kind of horny. But I didn’t know where to start, because honestly, I wasn’t sure what HAD happened. Sure, I knew what had happened in the literal sense—Tracy and I had stripped off all our clothes and rubbed each other to orgasm—but I still didn’t understand why we’d done it. Everything had been so random and spontaneous and confusing.

Fuck it. If anybody could help me figure this out, it was my husband.

“I slept with Tracy last night,” I confessed.

“Yeah, I know. I’m the one who told you to. She seemed so sad, and—“

“No, you don’t understand. I ‘slept’ with her. As in… hanky panky.”

He just blinked, inscrutable. “You mean, you and Tracy really—“

“’Hanky panky?!’” I exclaimed, slapping myself on the forehead. “Did I seriously just say ‘hanky panky?’ Way to use, like, the lamest words possible, Ria.”

“What exactly do you mean by ‘hanky panky?’” Shane asked at last.

“Can we please pretend I didn’t say that? That instead I used one of the million other stupid euphemisms for sex?”

Finally, after staring at me for about a thousand years with an unreadable expression, he simply said, “Really?”

“Of course, ‘really!’ You think I’m all nervous like this because I gave her a fucking hug and fell asleep? We were snuggling, and then we kissed, and then—more! I don’t know, it just happened. And before you say anything, I know that the phrase ‘it just happened’ is like the bullshit excuse people use when they cheat on someone—but in this case, it really did just happen.”

Another million years of silence passed. Then he just said, “Wow.”

“Can you stop talking in one word sentences?! I’m really confused right now. Like, was I unfaithful to you? Does it count when it’s with another girl?”