Ryke frequently talks to my girlfriend about sex, so guess what? This is how it feels. “Daisy,” I call to her, stretching my leg while I sit on the floor. Ryke shoots me a look. “Lo, fuck off.” I ignore him while Daisy acknowledges me. And I ask point-blank, “Have you ever tried to sleep by having sex?” It takes more effort to keep a straight-face, not cringing, than it does to say the words. “You don’t have to answer him,” Ryke tells her. And he mouths to me, shut the fuck up. Too late for that.
I CANNOTT.
