Science Ch 3

You gather some scraps of dignity and try to match Piper’s gaze.

“OK, I don’t know if I love hearing it put that way. But I’m serious, Piper. If you had a bunch of people who were suddenly hornier than they were before, what would you think?”

She sees that you’re being earnest and makes a conciliatory gesture. “OK. Um, all right. Does this have anything to do with why we haven’t seen you at the gym lately? Riley’s butt isn’t going to stare at itself.”

“Piper, please.”

“OK. Serious answer.” She puts her hand on your shoulder and squeezes, giving you a reassuring smile. “Flynn, horniness is our main evolutionary drive. It’s our default state. So, if I have some people who are suddenly being hornier than usual, and I want to find out why, I wouldn’t think of that as something making them horny. The horniness is not added; it was already there. Instead, I would be curious about what is removing the inhibitions that normally keep our horniness in check.”

You frown, doing maximum mental effort to parse that paragraph and all the big words in it. “Like what would do that?”

“When’s the last time you had sex sober, Flynn?”

Quite a bit these last few days, actually. But you see her point. A few drinks or at least some weed are completely normal parts of the normal, non-haunted getting-laid process for a reason. Now it’s like the haunting is the prerequisite 3 drinks.

You rub your chin. “But what could do that?”

“I can’t speculate about that without knowing something about what’s going on.”

And you can’t tell her.

“Did you and your roommates just discover shrooms or something?” she asks. “Or Molly?”

Most people don’t know that you have moved into the old CCL House yet. Piper thinks you still live with Graham and Ash.

“Inhibitions,” you say.

“Yeah. You know about that, Flynn. You don’t get so many women in the sack by getting their guard up, you get it down. You’re good at it.”

“Hmm.”

“Whatever you have going on, it looks like it’s really hard,” she says, looking you up and down. “I’m sorry.”

She seems so matronly and comforting. The intrusive thoughts and sensations come fast: imaginary notions of the softness of Piper’s body. Thoughts of your own mother in light of things that have happened this week. Your heart skips, and there’s a familiar feeling in your chest and downstairs.

You grimace.

Piper frowns. “Flynn?”

“I’m OK. I just need a minute.” You turn away and lean on the desk.

“OK, let me get you a bottle of water.” She leaves the room, and you manage not to groan in frustration.

You stay rigid: your cock and the rest of you. The tight jeans are so that there’s no risk of having a traumatic tent. The fat sausage imprint that you have instead isn’t much better, but at least it can’t be spotted from a hundred feet away.

If you hold still, you can just breathe. The intrusive thoughts about bending Piper over back here or stuffing your cock in her mouth won’t quit, but they are maybe even more problematic than the thoughts you have at home. At home, your family is eager to reciprocate all this. But Piper? She’s normal. Or as she would put it, she still has all her inhibitions.

You’re in trouble. Your already embattled reputation can’t take the kind of hit that you’re looking at if you misbehave out here in the real world.

The door opens. Your knuckles go white on the desk.

“Flynn? You good?”

It’s Chica.