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Chapter one

Miles

“T wo iced coffees for Miles,” the cute barista called out. When I’d ordered, I noticed he was named Matty and had the pronouns he or they on his name badge along with a Progress Pride pin. I loved living in San Francisco.

Matty had dark brown hair with matching eyes, both a rich coffee color befitting his position. His small frame was accentuated by an off-the-shoulder knit sweater and tight apron with the Pour Boys logo, but he was so not my type. Still, flirting was fun. I made my way up to the counter and saw him eyeing my hair, which he commented on like most people did.

“Love the rainbow. Is it a ton of upkeep?”

“It can be, but a girl needs a hobby,” I batted my eyes–my most striking feature, which were decidedly not matching, with one brown and one blue—knowing I was safe to play up my gayness in a queer-owned coffee shop in the city. I was still waiting for my friend who had suggested the spot, so I leaned on the counter under the guise of reaching for my drinks.

Matty raised one eyebrow, but didn’t reply to my obvious signals. Still, I was bored, so I decided to make conversation.

“What are your hobbies?”

“Riding motorcycles with my fiancé,” Matty answered without missing a beat. I chuckled at his brush-off, glad he didn’t look bothered by my flirting.

“Miles, quit hitting on Matty,” a familiar melodic voice called out, and I turned to see my blue-haired friend approaching from the entrance. Cielo wore a purple wrap dress over polka dot leggings and ankle boots that somehow all worked together. They saw the second cup by my hand and picked it up. “Oh, did you order for me? Thank you.”

“Cielo, good to see you,” Matty greeted before I could, my friend clearly a regular.

Cielo sipped their drink and hummed in appreciation before pointing at me. “Miles isn’t bothering you, is he? Because I invited him here and I can’t have him scaring off my favorite Beanocchio.”

“Hey,” I protested, but they both ignored me.

“Not at all,” Matty assured Cielo before turning to the customer who was walking up to the register. “Enjoy your coffee.”

“You really are a wanton flirt,” Cielo smirked to let me know he was only teasing me, and I rolled my eyes. “Did you happen to grab us a table, Casanova?”

“I did, brat.” I turned and led Cielo to the corner table where I’d left my bag to save the spot. They followed and took the seat facing the room. The seat I’d been sitting in before Cielo arrived, though I wasn’t truly bothered. “Your daddies spoil you.”

“I know. Isn’t it awesome?” Cielo fluttered their mascara-clad lashes and continued drinking their iced coffee through the compostable straw. You had to drink fast with those or they started to fall apart, so I pulled out a metal straw from my messenger bag. Cielo raised their brows at my preparedness, “Oh, you’re smart.”

“Flattery will get you everywhere,” I took the opposite chair and smiled back, mollified from the earlier insult on my character. Really, I was a flirt, and couldn’t deny it. “Are you ready to help me with my super duper, extra exciting taxes?”

“It’s what I do, darling.”

Cielo set their coffee down and reached for the pile of papers I pulled out of my bag. Opening my tablet screen to the file of things I’d saved digitally, and handed the device over as well. We knew each other through mutual friends, but this was the first time I accepted the offer of help with my complex tax forms. Working for newspapers, publishing my own comics, and taking commissions meant it was too complicated for me to do myself.

Two years out of art school and I was making a living, despite the dire warnings of how pointless an art degree was from my uncle, Harold. My parents hadn’t understood my love of graphic design and manga, but they were always supportive.

“This doesn’t look too bad,” Cielo interrupted my wandering thoughts as they set the stack back down between us. “Mind if I forward these files to myself?”

“No, not at all. As long as you promise not to steal my identity and ruin my credit,” I teased, not really worried about a licensed professional having my information. Cielo had come highly recommended and had a website online with his credentials.

“Damn, there goes my plan for a vacation to Fiji,” Cielo clicked their teeth in mock consternation. “But really, you came well-prepared. I only need a few days to take care of this.”

Sipping my coffee, I leaned back in my chair to ask the question I’d been dreading. “What will I owe you?” I asked, hoping Cielo didn’t cost hundreds an hour, which had been my fear.

“I’ll give you the friends and family discount, and base the fee on if you’ll get anything back.” Cielo pulled a manila folder out of their bag and slipped my papers inside before carefully labeling the file. “If you owe money, I won’t ask for payment at all.”

“Wait, really?” I set my coffee down and leaned forward. “No catch?”

“Well,” Cielo drew the word out. Clearly, there was something else. “I’ve been trying to get you over to the game night with the group for ages.”

Cielo and some of our mutual friends had invited me before. Playing D&D and Catan were fun in high school, but I got the feeling our kinky friends had something else in mind. I raised a brow.

“Game night?” I repeated to clarify. “Like board games, or a different kind of game?”

“There’s a bunch of people who come, so most board games are out,” Cielo hedged, twirling their damp straw. “And they are generally all members of the X Club.”

“Aha! You want me to come to your sex party.” I pointed at Cielo, who shrugged, not caring that a woman near us snapped her head our way at my too loud words.

“Are you saying the idea is out of character for you?” Cielo’s lips twitched in an attempt to hide their smile.

“No, just clarifying,” I laughed as Cielo grinned, having been proven right. “Is it all couples, though?”

“Honestly, it is mostly couples, or triads like mine.” Cielo leaned forward and clasped their hands together, a sparkle of mischief in their dark eyes, “But that doesn’t mean we don’t still play.”

“Ha, I’m sure you do, honey, but you’re not my usual cup of tea.” I sat back in my chair and frowned at the woman near us until she turned away. “Very few are.”

“Oh?” Cielo clapped their hands in excitement, sensing I was getting personal. “Spill the tea. Who do you usually go for then?”

Biting my lip, I considered the pros and cons of sharing with the person responsible for my taxes. We knew each other as friends first, so I decided to go ahead, “Any of your game night buddies packing serious heat?”

“You can’t mean guns…” Cielo started, then stopped, “Oh! Damn girl, you’re a size queen?”

Rolling my eyes, I might as well admit it. Leaning forward, I stage whispered, “Do I fetishize big dicks and actively seek them out? Maybe. But do I find many partners who meet up to their boasting? No.”

With a large collection of monster cocks at home, I was not satisfied by average dicks. And I was also embarrassed by my disinterest in real ones. I felt my face heating at the thought, knowing it was unrealistic and silly of me to be so hung up on the superficial. A big schlong couldn’t keep me warm at night. I was twenty-five and starting to wish I had a person to call my own, and not just the box under my bed.

“Well, I can’t promise anything, but I can assure you we always have fun,” Cielo laid a hand over mine and squeezed, drawing my attention to their kind smile. “And you don’t have to get involved or stay when the evening moves on to more carnal activities. Unless you want to.”

Cielo’s words reassured me, and I really could use an excuse to get out of my apartment more often. “Alright, I’ll be there. Text me the address.”