“It’s some sort of investment thing. He travels all the time, looking at potential companies to buy—I don’t even know what he does. He never talks about it.”
“Oh, wow,” Dax says. He’s found the homepage of Faraday & Sons. “Were these guys genetically engineered by Monsanto or what? Which one is your guy?”
“The one with the dark hair. The other guy’s his fraternal twin brother, Jonas—Sarah’s new boyfriend, actually.”
“Whoa, Sarah’s dating Thor?”
“Yeah. And he adores her. I’ve never seen two people more into each other in all my life.”
“Aw, good for her.” He scrutinizes the photo for a long beat. “Well, now I can see why you’re feeling a tad bit confused. I’mcompletely straight andI’ddo him, especially if he bought me a dress and shoes and a Sybian.”
I laugh.
Dax continues scrutinizing the photo. “He’s exactly your type, only the best-looking version of it I’ve ever seen. He looks a lot like that football-player dude you dated in high school.”
I shrug. “Yeah, I know. I guess I’ve got a type.”
“What was his name again?”
“Kade.”
“That’s right. He looks like he could be Kade’s older, better-looking brother.” Dax looks up from the phone and appraises me with sympathetic eyes. “Poor, Jizz. I don’t know how any woman could figure out if she had actual feelings around this guy. He must leave a wake of exploded ovaries wherever he goes.”
“Exactly,” I say. “I told you—the dude could keep a severed head in his fridge and I’d totally reach behind it to get myself a Diet Coke while giggling at something he just said.”
Dax laughs and looks at his phone again. “Yeah, both of ’em are just stupid-good-looking. It’s like God fell asleep at the ‘good looking’ switch and didn’t move on to the next guy on the conveyor belt like he was supposed to.”
“And I just spent a week with him in freakingLas Vegasof all places—and all expenses paid, too. No wonder I can’t distinguish fantasy from reality. The whole thing was like a fairytale.”
“Snow White and the Seven Sybians.”
“How the hell do you even know what a Sybian is, by the way?”
He scoffs. “Dude, I’m twenty and I’m a guy,” he says, as if this answers my question.
I shrug.
“Every twenty-something-year-old male in America knows what a Sybian is—it’s a porn staple. Howard Stern even has one in his studio for female guests to ride. It’s, like, Porn 101.”
“Really? I had no idea. I’d never even heard of one ’til last week.”
“Well, are you a twenty-something-year-old male?”
“Not the last time I checked.”
“And do you watch a shit-ton of porn?”
“Never.”
“Well, there you go. Now you know why you discovered the Sybian for the first time while watching porn with Sir J.W. Faraday.”
I bite my lip. Dax has obviously misunderstood the circumstances under which Josh first acquainted me with my new toy—and, as far as I’m concerned, that’s a very good thing. No one ever needs to know I rode that thing for Josh’s pleasure—least of all my brother. “So, hey, that concludes the ‘What Happens In Vegas Stays In Vegas’ portion of our program,” I say. “There’s something that happened in Vegas I actuallywantto tell you about.” I take a deep breath, a huge smile bursting across my face. “Guess who I partied with one crazy night while I was there?”
“Who?”
“All four members of Red Card Riot.” I can barely keep from squealing.
“What?” he bellows, his face the picture of pure astonishment. “How thefuckdid that happen?”
