Chapter 7: Jessica’s Circle

I stood in front of my mirror, trying to decide between two shirts. The blue one made me look like I was trying too hard. The gray one was safe but boring.

“Just pick one already,” Emma said from my doorway.

I jumped. “Jesus, Em. How long have you been standing there?”

“Long enough to watch you have a crisis over shirts.” She came in and sat on my bed. “Where are you going?”

“Jessica’s. She’s having a dinner party with some friends.”

Emma’s expression shifted — that new awareness we both had now. “Are they part of it too? The having sex with each other thing?”

“Yeah,” I said honestly. “But tonight is mostly just dinner and hanging out. Getting to know people.”

“Mostly?”

I grinned. “I mean, knowing Jessica, things are probably going to get interesting. But I’m trying to get used to this. Just ... seeing where it goes.”

“You seem excited,” Emma observed. “Not nervous like you said you were about the big party.”

“I guess I’m getting more comfortable with it all.” I pulled on the gray shirt. “Plus Jessica’s friends are supposed to be cool. Just a couple years older, you know? Not as intimidating as a mansion full of masked investment bankers.”

Emma nodded thoughtfully. “Have fun.” Was that a touch of sadness?

“I will.” I grabbed my keys and wallet. “Don’t wait up.”

“Oh, I won’t,” she said with a knowing smile.

Downstairs, Mom intercepted me at the door. “Looking handsome, honey.”

“Thanks, Mom.”

She checked my breath and my fingernails. “A good lover has good hygiene.”

“Mom!”

“What? I’m being practical.” She grinned. “Have fun. Text if you’re staying over.”

Dad called from the living room: “Use protection, be respectful, and remember —”

“Everything I do reflects on the family name,” I finished. “Yeah, yeah.”

“Actually I was going to say ‘have a hell of a time,’ but sure, that too.”

I laughed and headed out to my car, feeling lighter than I had in weeks. This wasn’t scary anymore. It was exciting.

Jessica and Tom’s apartment was in a newer apartment renovation downtown — nice but not fancy. Young professional territory. I could hear music and laughter as I climbed the stairs to the third floor.

Jessica opened the door in jeans and a fitted top, her hair down and wavy. “You made it! Come in, come in.”

The apartment was cozy — open concept with the kitchen flowing into the living room. And yeah, the bedroom was visible from the living room, just a wide doorway. That might make things interesting later.

“Everyone, this is my baby brother Ethan,” Jessica announced.

“I’m nineteen,” I protested.

“Like a little baby,” she repeated firmly. “Out amongst the wolves.”

Five people were chatting around the living room — sitting on the couch, the floor, a couple of chairs. They all looked up with friendly smiles.

“Ethan, meet the crew,” Tom said, handing me a beer. “That’s Maya, Derek and Simone, Liam, and Zara.”

Maya stood up first — mid-twenties, Filipina, with sharp eyes and a sharper smile. She wore a loose crop top and high-waisted jeans that showed off her toned stomach. “So you’re the nervous new college boy. Jessica has been itching to show you the big wide world.”

“Has she?”

“Constantly,” Maya confirmed. “I feel like I already know you. All your embarrassing childhood stories.”

“Great,” I said. “Can’t wait to hear those. Again.”

“Oh, we’re saving them for after you’ve had a few drinks,” Jessica said. “When you can’t defend yourself.”

Derek chuckled with sympathy — he was tall and athletic-looking, sitting with his arm around Simone, who was curvy and gorgeous with natural hair. “I like him already. He’s smart enough to roll with it when he’s having fun, just like you, Jess.”

“Runs in the family,” I said, sitting on the floor near the coffee table. “Along with bad jokes and worse dance moves.”

“Oh god, the dancing,” Jessica groaned. “Remember that wedding when you were twelve?”

“We agreed never to speak of that.”

“I’m speaking of it.”

Liam — sandy-haired with an Irish accent — grinned. “This is already entertaining. Please continue.”

Zara, who’d been quiet, spoke up: “I want to hear about the dancing.”

“You really don’t,” I said.

“I really do,” Maya countered, sitting down next to me. Close. Her thigh pressed against mine. “Spill.”

So I told the story — exaggerating for effect, making myself look ridiculous, and everyone laughed. It felt easy. Natural. Like I’d known these people for years instead of minutes.

We moved through appetizers and drinks, conversation flowing. They asked about college, I asked about their jobs. Liam worked at Blackwood — mid-level analyst — and had some amusing and somewhat titillating stories about the office culture. Derek was a high school teacher with even better stories about teenage drama. Simone was a nurse who’d seen some shit. Zara was getting her master’s in psychology, which made for interesting insights into everyone’s behavior.

And Maya. Maya was a software engineer who spoke in dry observations and cutting wit that had me laughing constantly.

“So Ethan,” she said, “when do you start fighting back? Are you going to let your sister roast you all night?”

“Oh, I’m just gathering ammunition,” I said. “Waiting for the right moment.”

“I like that,” she said, her hand landing on my thigh. “Strategic.”

Jessica watched us with an amused smile. “Maya, if you keep eating my brother up, there’s going to be nothing left for the rest of us.”

“I can’t control myself,” Maya said without shame. “He’s cute and he can take a joke. That’s my type.”

“Cute?” I said. “If this is getting eaten up, I’ll take it.”

“Don’t let it go to your head.”

Tom brought out dinner — some tasty fish and a salad, the guy has some cooking chops — and we ate around the coffee table since there was no dining room. The conversation shifted to work, specifically Blackwood.

“Best decision I ever made, joining that firm,” Liam said. “The culture there is something else.”

“That’s one way to put it,” Tom said with a knowing grin.

“How do you think they get away with it?” I asked, playing dumb.

“It’s not without a few scandals,” Simone said. “But I think it’s just these different times. Post-COVID, everything’s kind of weird and crazy and nothing matters and all the normies are distracted.”

“Plus the parties are incredible,” Jessica added.

“Oh my god, the parties,” Zara agreed. “I went to my first one last month and my mind was blown.”

“In the best way?” I asked.

“In the very best way.”

They talked around it — the “company scene,” the open relationships, the swinging. Everyone here knew about that part. It was illuminating, listening to them picking apart the bleed between career, culture, and the surrounding community.

Maya’s hand had stayed on my thigh through dinner, occasionally squeezing, her thumb making small circles. I wasn’t complaining.

“So Ethan,” Derek said, “Jess mentioned you just found out about all this. How are you handling it?”

“Honestly? It’s been a trip,” I said. “Like going down a rabbit hole. But a fun rabbit hole with a lot of sexy people.”

Everyone laughed.

“He’s handling it well,” Jessica said. “Better than I expected. He dove right in.”

“Literally,” Tom added with a grin.

“Okay, we need details,” Maya said. “What have you done? Who have you been with?”

“Is this where I’m supposed to kiss and tell?”

“Absolutely,” Simone said. “No judgment. We all share stories.”

So I told them — keeping it somewhat vague but honest. About exploring with David’s family. About the party last weekend. About how weird and exciting it all was.

“David’s your guys’s brother, right?” Zara asked. “Is that weird at all?”

“Yeah, it took some getting used to,” I said carefully. “I guess he’s the one who really took the first leap.”

Jessica watched me, clearly curious how much I’d reveal. I met her eyes and saw permission there. Trust.

“His family are very involved,” I continued. “His kids are around my age. So we’ve ... been having a lot of fun.”

“His kids,” Maya repeated slowly. “Your nieces and nephew.”

“I mean, I’m so much younger than David, they might as well be cousins, maybe that’s not so shocking. And I haven’t really done anything with Marcus, except, you know, trade a few appropriate high-fives in some ... er ... intimate situations.”