I NEED HELP.
Advice.
A few pointers.
It’s hard to admit, but here I am on a Friday evening, sitting with my younger brother in his obnoxiously large living room while Thalia’s waitressing at a birthday party on the other side of Newport.
“Spill your guts,” Nico says, popping a cap on his Corona and handing me a Budweiser.
He rounds his big-ass couch that would never fit in my living room and plops down in the corner, legs sprawled on the coffee table. “What’s going on?”
I toy with the bottle opener. There’s no easy way to start this conversation, but I can stall for a bit to relax and get comfortable, AKA drunk enough not to care. “Are you and Kaya okay?”
They’ve been casually dating for about as long as Thalia and me—six weeks, to be precise. Me not having the urge to run far away from my girlfriend and bury the intense affection she brings out in me comes as no surprise. The same from Nico sends a ripple of confusion through my system. I can’t wrap my head around the fact that he’s not trying to exorcise whatever the fuck he feels. Who knew he could feel? Not me.
“Yeah, I guess. She’s been good lately.”
Good as in not getting shitfaced every evening. That girl has a serious drinking problem. Despite how beautiful Kaya is on the outside, she’s hideous inside—manipulative, spoiled, rude, and toxic, but… she might become someone worthy of my brother once she gets sober.
One can hope.
It’s not just my thinking. Shawn and Logan worry about Nico as much as I do. Shawn even suggested instigating an intervention, but neither Logan nor I have the guts to tell Nico that the first girl he showed genuine interest in is a monster in our eyes.
Cruella DeMon is Logan’s nickname for Kaya. And he’s right there. She is a demon, but what kind of a brother would I be if I didn’t stand by his side? His choices are just that; they’re his, and it’s my job to accept them unless he’s getting hurt or hurting someone else. So far, he doesn’t seem bothered by Kaya’s stunts. He’s got a savior complex, and it shows.
Besides, maybe I’m not entirely fair basing my animosity toward Kaya on a couple of double dates gone bad. Thalia and I had dinner with them a few times, and while Kaya’s sober or tipsy, she’s cool. Shit goes south once she oversteps her daily alcohol limit, though.
Still, she gets along with Thalia, so maybe she’s not that bad. On the other hand, she’s besties with Cassidy, who’s been spending a little too much time with my girl for my liking, considering our past. Thalia must’ve been made aware by now that I slept with Cass, but to my surprise, she has never brought it up and invites Cassidy over every now and then.
“Any news on the break-in?”
I shake my head, instantly annoyed. “Nope… it’s fucking weird. The guy broke into my place, threatened Thalia, and now silence.”
It’s been over a week, but Shawn has no leads. Nothing out of the ordinary has happened either, as if whoever broke into my condo changed his mind, but the unease churning in my gut keeps me awake at night.
I drive Thalia to and from work every day, and I told Jared to team her up with another cart girl, for the time being so she’s not alone at any point during the day.
“Let’s hope it was just a fucked-up prank. Now, get on with it. You’re tense. I sense something heavy.”
“Kind of. I rub my face, wondering if I should back away from the idea. Maybe I should call Logan? Maybe he’s better equipped for this conversation?
Argh, who am I kidding? Logan would make this even more uncomfortable. Ideally, I’d talk to no one, but I’m at my wits’ end after six weeks of trying and failing…
Nico’s my second-to-last resort.
I will call Logan if I absolutely have to.
“I never thought I’ll be coming to you for pointers.” I down half of my beer in one go, take a deep breath and hold it until I say what must be said. “You ever had a girl who couldn’t come on your dick?”
Nico cocks an eyebrow, face impassive as he silently processes the topic. We’re guys, alright.
We talk about sex.
We brag about women we’ve had in our beds, but we hardly get into details. At least not me and my brothers. Contrary to popular belief among women, guys don’t share details about their sex life. Especially when the girl we care about is concerned. That shit is private. We might mention something like I didn’t get much sleep last night in a tone that implies I didn’t sleep because I was fucking my girl’s brains out, but we don’t get much more descriptive than that.
It takes Nico at least twenty seconds to mull over the topic. He’s always been the one to carefully choose his words, and this time is no different.
Shit, I should’ve gone to Logan. At least with him, I know what to expect right off the bat—laughter. I could’ve even tried Shawn, although he wouldn’t be much help.
Nico leans forward, elbows on his knees, face stoic, no indication as to what he’s about to say.
He’s not amused, and that’s half the battle won.
“You can’t get her off, or she can’t orgasm at all?”
My eyes damn near bulge out of their sockets. I expected a lot of reactions when I decided to ask for advice—teasing, stupid comments, mockery, and laughter, to name a few, but I underestimated my younger brother once again. He’s all business. Not a trace of derision in his voice. He’s focused and determined to help me out. I’m so surprised it takes me a moment to get over the initial shock.
“I can make her come just fine, but only if—” I exhale, swallow my pride, and relax, now that I know this won’t be as difficult as I anticipated. “Only if I use my fingers on her clit. She can’t get off with a toy, either. I’ve tried many things, and I get her close, but not quite there.”
“I need more than many things, Theo. What have you tried?”
“I need another beer.” I set the empty bottle on the coffee table. “I’ve tried half of the Kamasutra. I tried setting the mood. I even tried getting her off with a silicone replica of my cock, bro. Did you know you can DIY that at home?”
Nico smirks, handing me a fresh bottle, and grabs one for himself, strategically ignoring the clone-a-dick topic. Well, well, well… I might not be the only one shoving my erect dick in a silicone mold in my spare time.
“How long before you give up trying? Ten minutes? Fifteen? Half an hour?”
“Half an hour?” I stammer, almost choking on a gulp of Budweiser. “Are you kidding? I’m a fucking teenager around Thalia. She looks at me, and I’m ready. I think fifteen minutes was the longest before I gave up, but I didn’t set a timer.”
He nods a few times and drapes one arm over the back of the couch. We’re alike in terms of looks. The seven of us bear an unmistakable resemblance, but each of us has a unique quality or trait the others can’t hope to pull off without coming across stupid.
I’ve got humor. Out of all the Hayes brothers, I sure am the comedian. Logan’s the sporty type. Built like the swimmer he used to be in college. He’s careless, with a no-bullshit attitude and a short fuse. Nico’s the silent, brooding, confident type. He could wear pink and still be intimidating. I can’t sit like he is now and not resemble a cheap, fake Godfather, and he can’t crack a lousy joke and make people laugh.
“Half of the Kamasutra,” he echoes, seemingly lost in thought. “You tried putting her on her stomach? Flat on the bed, ankles crossed, hands above her head.”
“No. That sounds uncomfortable.”
“Uncomfortable? You know nothing. Try it. It never failed me, but if it doesn’t work with Thalia, you’ll have to be more patient than fifteen minutes. Edge her. A lot.”
“Edge her?” Have I lived under a rock all this time? “What does that even mean?”
“Bring her as close as you can. A second away. Doesn’t matter how. Fingers, mouth, toys—whatever works, but don’t let her come. Stop and wait until she calms down. Do that six, eight, maybe ten times in a row. Get her to the point where she’ll need the release so much that she’ll want to claw your eyes out. If she doesn’t come on your dick after that, you’ll have to accept she’s one of those women who just can’t orgasm that way.”
Pondering his words, I picture denying my girlfriend an orgasm ten times in a row. I’ll end up with a split lip and a black eye for sure.
We go through a few more beers while Nico checks how things are between Thalia and me besides the glaring problem in the bedroom. The topic naturally changes, and we’re onto sports as per usual, although this time it’s not baseball. Nico has taken a liking to F1, thanks to the triplets invading his house on race weekends. All the while, at the back of my mind, I wonder how I’ll survive torturing Thalia without losing a few teeth.
