I closed my eyes and told myself fiercely, Don’t! Give this one a chance!
And somehow, I managed this—barely.
* * * *
“So,” Glen said pointedly two weeks later, when he, Frank and I were again in the Cozy Café, “Is he a top or a bottom?”
Frank made a small noise and shook his head reprovingly, but Glen was defiant.
“I’m just asking, okay?”
“Darling!” Frank chided gently. I could feel a rising anger. But we did have a history of being rather open about such things.
“Well,” I said defiantly, flushing, “what do you think?”
Glen smiled smugly. “Oh, well. You’re a bottom at heart, aren’t you? So, I’m figuring he tops you.”
My flush increased. It sounded like an accusation, or the prelude to one. I regarded him for several long seconds, then gave a mortified nod.
“What does he do?” Fra
