Page 39 of Ebbing Tides

My brow pinched. “I don't know if I'd put itexactlylike that, but I guess, in a nutshell, yes.”

“And you did?”

“I did what?”

“You fucked her?”

I laid a hand over my eyes, rubbing at my temples. “We … had sex, yes.”

For another moment, he was quiet, and my patience was wearing thinner by the second. I had called him for advice, not to be goaded.

Shaking my head, I threw the truck door open. “You know what? Never—”

“How do you feel?” His voice was soft, gentle even, and that startled me.

“How do Ifeel?” I parroted, heading up to the door.

“Yeah, I mean, this was your first time in … a long time, right?”

I hung my head as I trudged up the porch steps. “Yeah,” I replied gruffly, thinking of Laura and the broken promises we'd made.

“So, how do you feel? You good?”

I fumbled with my keys, finding the one to Dad’s house, and unlocked the door. “Well, I don't really like the feeling that she hates—”

“No, I don't mean about that. You, man. How doyoufeel?”

Oh.

“Um …” I slid the key into the lock and twisted the doorknob open. “You know, I didn't think I'd be okay, but I'm better than I thought I would be. I feel like … like I should feel worse about it than I do.”

“You feel how you feel, man,” Sid replied. “I don't think there's really a right or wrong.”

“No, I know.” I pushed the door open and was instantly bombarded by a frantic Lido and his windmilling tail. “I think Iwantto feel worse than I do.”

“You didn't cheat on Laura.” He spoke as my brother and not the foul-mouthed buddy I'd known since I had been a teenager in boot camp.

I scrubbed my palm over Lido's head and ears as he sniffed at my clothes with wild interest.

“I know that.”

“Do you though?”

I held Lido's face between my palms and looked into his curious, warm brown eyes. “Yeah,” I muttered, holding the phone between my ear and shoulder. “I do.”

“All right, good. So, uh, how was it? Was she good?”

I huffed as I closed the door quietly behind me, not wanting to disturb Dad. This was the friend I'd been expecting when I called. The one who wanted to know how it was. If my world had been rocked and if I’d do it again.

“Honestly?”

“Would I be asking if I didn't want you to be honest?”

Lido danced around my legs, tail wagging and tongue lolling from his mouth, as I walked through the living room to the kitchen.

How could I answer that in anything other than sonnets? And how the hell could I say any of that to my best friend without having the shit teased out of me?

I blew out a heavy breath, the impossibility of that question weighing on my chest as I opened the fridge door.