The Man I Love (The Fish Tales, #1)(17)

“Say please,” Erik said under his breath, peeved. He watched as David passed the free-standing barres where Daisy was up on one foot, deep in concentration as she held a balance. Without breaking stride, David’s hand darted out and back. Daisy let out a yell and came off her pointes.

“David, you little shit,” she cried, seizing a towel and lobbing it as he stepped up his pace and disappeared further backstage. Shaking her head, she reached her hand down between her shoulder blades, worrying at the back of her dress.

Erik walked over to her. “What did he do?”

“Dropped a f*cking ice cube down my back,” she said, twisting and reaching.

He could see the lump and the spreading dark spot where the ice was starting to melt. “Hold still,” he said. He pulled the material away, just enough for him to get his fingers in and retrieve the cube, and trying not to linger longer than was necessary.

“How bad does it look?” she asked, peering back over her shoulder.

“It’ll dry, don’t worry.” And entirely without his brain’s permission, he blurted out, “You look beautiful.”

Her eyes lifted up to his. “Thank you.”

“Do a triple,” he said.

She laughed then, and shook her head. “Not to the right.”

He watched her walk away, then popped the ice cube into his mouth.





Saint Birgitta


The cogs and gears of the concert were turning ever more smoothly and faster. Two run-throughs seemed to take no time at all. Notes were given swiftly. Leo had only minor changes to make. With some ceremony he blessed the final cue sheets and gave them to David and Erik to transpose. “Lock it down, boys. And make copies.”

“Let’s go kick back, hookers,” Will said. And the five of them—Will, Erik, David, Lucky and Daisy—headed over to the campus center to eat.

They unloaded jackets and clobber at a large booth, then dispersed in search of their dinners. After dealing with long lines at the deli counter, Erik arrived back at the table in the middle of a conversation, sitting down just as David was saying, “Oh yeah, Madame Virgo von Intacta over here.”

Daisy blew her straw wrapper at him. “Bite me,” she said.

“Hey, Fish,” David said. “Remember I told you Daisy’s old man owns an orchard out in Amish land? Guess what the name of the town is.”

“Bird-In-Hand,” Daisy and Will said, their voices unified in abject boredom.

“I thought you were from Gladwyne?” Erik said to Daisy.

“I am. But after I graduated my parents moved full time out to the country.”

“To Bird-In-Hand,” David said, nudging Erik’s side. “It’s just southwest of Intercourse.”

“Gee, I haven’t heard this joke in an hour,” Will muttered.

“Don’t forget you have to go through Intercourse to get to Paradise,” Daisy said as she tore open a salad dressing packet with her teeth. Erik’s eyes followed the banter like a tennis match.

“And stop by Mount Joy,” Will said.

“I’ve only been to Blue Ball,” David said, looking intently at Daisy.

“How frustrating.” Daisy got up, leaving just the men at the table.

“Why are you such an ass to her, Dave,” Will said around a mouthful.

“What?”

“For starters, you have this weird fascination with Daisy being a virgin. It’s just southwest of perverted.”

Chewing his sandwich, Erik looked off as if his thoughts were elsewhere. Daisy was a virgin. And how exactly was this common knowledge? He took another bite, recalling what Will had said: He just wanted to bust her cherry for the experience.

Bust her cherry. It was a crass expression.

So why was it turning him on?

This was weird. He crossed one leg over the other and kept eating, lost in horny thoughtfulness.

“It’s hot being the first,” David said, squeezing ketchup on his fries. “You belong to a girl’s history forever.”

“Technical penetration doesn’t mean shit,” Will said, snorting. “Half the time it sucks for her. I’d rather be the guy who makes her come the first time. That’s the better pantheon. He’s the one she’ll remember forever.”

Erik crunched a few potato chips, nibbling on the image of Daisy under him, her hair spread out on a pillow. Her eyes full of blue-green fire. Opening her knees to him. Raising her hips up and letting him slide into her warm, wet…

He squirmed and casually hitched closer to the table. Great. He was stuck here now. Served him right.

“Hey, Lucia,” David said as Lucky arrived at the table and sat next to Will. “When were you deflowered? Wait, let me guess. Fifteen. Sixteen, tops.”

“You know, Dave, you’re really unattractive when you’re coked up,” Lucky said.

Erik had been mentally reciting states and capitals—a trick which usually deflected blood away from an unwanted erection back to his brain. He lifted his head at Lucky’s remark. He glanced at Will, who rolled his eyes as he bit into his burger.

David was unperturbed. “Willy, you had to have been what, twelve?”

Will chewed and swallowed, took a sip of his drink and replied, “Male or female?”