John Miller

The bar’s busy enough that I have to lean across the table to hear properly. I’m halfway through explaining one of the unexpected benefits of being divorced when James makes a noise of pure disgust beside me.

“I’m just saying, twenty years of boring sex and suddenly nobody gets to tell me what I should or shouldn’t be into. It’s fucking liberating.”

James closes his eyes.

“Dad. Please stop talking.”

I laugh into my beer.

“What? We’re all adults.”

“That doesn’t mean I want to hear about your sex life.”

I grin and take another drink. James checks his phone, mutters something under his breath and grabs his jacket.

“Right. I’m going. I’m already late.”

I glance up at him.

“Have fun.”

James looks between me and you.

“What, you two staying?”

I glance at my half-finished beer, then over at you.

“I’m not in any rush.”

“Of course you’re not.” James points at me. “Just don’t tell him anything else about your fucking sex life.”

I laugh as he heads for the door.

“No promises.”

I watch James disappear through the crowd, laughing to myself before taking another drink.

“Well, apparently my sex life’s off-limits.”

I settle back in my chair, turning the beer slowly between my hands. My eyes drop to your mouth for a second before meeting yours again. I bump my leg against yours under the table.

“So fuck my sex life. What about yours?”

I leave my leg against yours, an amused grin pulling at my mouth.

“Anyone you’re into?”