Page 5 of My Brother’s Best Friend

“No, silly,” Aiden said. “A CamFans account.”

“How would that—”

“To overcome the three-hundred people challenge. If you had an account, you could be a slut for anyone in the entire world.”

“Oh.”

I subscribed to a couple of CamFans accounts, but I’d never considered starting one of my own. The thought was equal parts titillating and terrifying. But it wasn’t quite what I was looking for, and I said as much.

“It just sounds like a lot of work. And the kind of reward I’m looking for is less monetary, and more along the lines of getting railed by seventeen men at a sex party while blindfolded.”

I clapped a hand to my mouth as soon as I said that, looking around The Roastery in panic. There weren’t any other customers in line at the moment, but I still couldn’t believe I’d said that out loud.

“Hey, no judgement,” Nolan said, misinterpreting my worry. “Trust me, I’ve enjoyed some no-strings-attached sex in the past.” He tilted his head. “Why don’t you just download a hookup app, though? No long-term commitments, and it would still help you widen your pool.”

I let my hand fall. Why hadn’t I considered that? I had plenty of friends who’d used apps successfully. One had even met his husband that way.

Obviously, I wasn’t in the market for a husband, but if I were really clear about what I wanted, it couldn’t hurt to try, right? I could even keep my profile anonymous, use a pseudonym with no pictures of my face. That way, there was no chance of this blowing back on Levi and his business.

“I recognize that face,” Aiden said. “That’s the face of someone daydreaming about getting well and truly railed.”

Nolan shot him a grin. “Think we should leave him alone to his planning?”

“Definitely,” Aiden said. “I would never stand between a man and his daily dose of cum. Speaking of cum, though, we should probably put in our orders.”

“Oh, shit. Right.” I shook my head, pulling my focus back to the present moment. “What can I get you guys?”

“A small black coffee for me,” Nolan said, “and a medium nonfat latte for him.”

“And details,” Aiden added, “about how your quest to be a slut goes. We’re definitely going to need details.”

2

CAM

“You’re taking someone to the Founders’ Festival dance, and that’s final.”

Levi gave me a firm look when I came back into my living room from the kitchen. Not that I’d needed to come back to hear him.

I’d built my cabin as one big room that curved around a massive, gnarled tree trunk. The kitchen flowed into the dining area, which flowed into the living room, which flowed into my office, which was really just a couple of old pine boards set up on sawhorses against the wall. You couldn’t see the kitchen from where Levi sat, but you could hear everything just fine.

I liked it that way. It was simple. Unfussy. Calm.

Today, though…

Today, I was wishing I’d included a panic room in my design. Somewhere soundproof that I could have tossed my best friend so I didn’t have to listen to his well-meaning but increasingly aggravating suggestions.

“You really need to get a girl in here,” he’d said when he arrived an hour ago, frowning at the old flour sacks I used as curtains. He poked at the couch, which was really just the backseat of a 1984 Dodge Caravan. “This place could use a woman’s touch.”

I’d rolled my eyes. I liked my place the way it was. I liked reusing old materials, repurposing things that might have otherwise ended up in the trash. My family had owned half the real estate on the island at one point. I felt like the least I could do was reuse things we already had, rather than buy anything new.

Plus, I knew my parents would have hated it. Spite makes a wonderful interior designer.

“My place is fine,” I said as Levi walked around to my 1952 Northstar refrigerator and pulled out a beer. He twisted the top off, then made himself at home on the couch. “And I don’t see you complaining when you drink my beer and eat my food.”

“Maybe I’m trying to be polite and buck up your self-confidence,” he said. “Anyway, even if your house doesn’t need a woman’s touch, you sure do. When was the last time you brought a girl home, for real?”

I snorted and ignored the question, but half an hour later, Levi was back on the same topic.