I rubbed my lips together, my hand dropping to cover his on my knee. “You’re really sure you don’t want any?”
“Pfft. Got the vasectomy scar to prove it.”
I eyed him. “Guess I’ll have to look harder next time I’m down there. I’m not sure I believe you.”
“Who would lie about that?”
I snorted. "I don't know. Guys who get off on spreading their seed everywhere."
Harlan made a gagging motion. "That's . . . quite the term."
"Blame Mara. She's the one who forced us to read some massive romantasy."
Harlan still looked disgusted. “You like that stuff too?"
I dropped my jaw. "Harlan Royce, are you judging my literary tastes?"
He hesitated. "No."
“You are."
"I just don't want to be compared to some bottle genie with a four-foot cock and a tickler suction cup."
"I never would have guessed," I gasped. "Harlan Royce has fragile masculinity. The man who was once the peak of big dick energy is in fact a huge weenie."
"Am not," he huffed.
"You are threatened by fae lords."
He pouted. "I had a girl tell me my dick was small one time."
I choked on my drink. "She what?"
"Yeah."
“So, what, to prove it’s not small, you got as many dick piercings as possible?”
He tipped his head to the side. “Never occurred to me. I don’t think it’s really like that.”
I chuckled. “I think it’s exactly like that, but I love you the way you are.”
Harlan’s eyes were wide, his eyebrows somewhere in the middle of his forehead. “You what?”
I fumbled over my words. “Not like that. It’s not like that.”
He smirked and slung an arm around my shoulder, kissing my temple and murmuring in my ear. “I think it’s exactly like that, actually.”
I growled and turned my face up to the ceiling. Harlan, for once in his life, gave me some mercy and moved on. “So, Jeff doesn’t hate me anymore. That’s nice.”
My face softened. “No, I don’t think he hates you at all. Believe it or not, he told me he approves.”
Harlan chewed his lip, looking out at the boys goofing off at the table and Jeff laughing with another dad. “Don’t take this the wrong way, but you guys get along so well. Why did you split up?”
This was another thing that was often a dealbreaker with men: feeling threatened by Jeff and my relationship with him.“He’s still my best friend. We just weren’t in love with each other anymore. I’ll always love him, but the spark was gone. We tried to save it for a few years, thinking maybe it was just the stress of being adults and having a young kid. But as Liam got older, we wanted different things. We loved each other enough to acknowledge that we couldn’t give each other what we wanted. He wanted more kids, and I wanted just Liam and more time with my career. Divorce is tough, but we figured Liam would be more well-adjusted if he saw us happy in our own right and respecting each other for it.” I paused. “You know, when you break up with someone, there’s this person floating out there in the world who knows almost everything about you. They know the little stuff like how you take your coffee and which side you like to sleep on, but they also know your deepest fears and doubts. I’ve broken up with plenty of men I never wanted to speak to again, but I think what makes Jeff and I good friends is that we didn’t want to let that connection go.”
“That’s really sweet. Thoughtful. Mature.” Harlan turned to look at me head on. “I don’t know everything he knows about you, but I’m learning.”
I wanted to kiss him so badly at that moment, but I squeezed his hand in my lap. “I’m learning you too.”