The Winter Formal, Part 5
At this point, Blue’s boyfriend comes over. Yes, boyfriend. We’re going to call him Byron. Because of alliteration and also because he’s the sort of romantic hero-looking fellow that Byron would write about. Maybe. It’s been a long time since I read Byron.
“So, you look hot,” Byron announced when he saw me, “like, really though.” I laughed and rolled my eyes. I’m not the best at taking compliments.
He took a seat and pulled me into his lap while Blue set to talking to someone else. I started fiddling with a candle on the table and was warned about getting wax on myself. To demonstrate my bravado, I blew out the candle and dumped a fair amount of wax on my wrist. The joys of being a masochist.
Blue put his wrist out and I waited for the wax to cool a bit more before pouring some onto him. “Christ, that hurts,” he muttered.
We were all, vaguely, flirting from there. There was talk about hitting the dance floor. I rose up from Byron’s lap and gestured the group on. Blue wrapped an arm around me as we walked. "That’s it,“ declared Blue with a grin, "we’re going to have a threesome.”
“Oh, shut it.”
“Nope,” Blue insisted playfully, “we’re having a threesome.”
I shook my head. “Okay, dear.”