Chapter 370

Mosche was not a fan of getting pinned down into a conversation that was obviously about something that would be uncomfortable for him, but he also didn’t have the spine necessary to extricate himself from the situation. You had to wonder how well he would fare if he got put into the classic ‘Prisoners Dilemma’ where cops separated a group and interviewed them in different rooms.

You had a feeling that Mosche would fold like a wet paper bag.

Sabrina got him sitting at the kitchen table. It was, in fact, the first time you’d actually seen the kitchen table get used for anything other than putting stuff down on. Usually, if it was just him, or the two of you, you guys ate over on the couches in the little living area in front of the TV. If you had the girls over you generally went back to your room when you were eating a meal. But it had part of the cleaning and tidying up you and Sabrina had done, and she’d even set the table in preparation for the lasagna.

“Am I in trouble?” Mosche asked nervously as he sat with his hands in his lap, looking like a kid waiting for the principal to call him into the office.

“No,” you said at the same time Sabrina said, “Yes.” You looked at Sabrina, who raised an eyebrow and looked back at Mosche. “Yes.”

“But I didn’t do anything,” he said, a little whiny.

Sabrina rolled her eyes. “Did you talk to Tasha today?”

Mosche looked to the side, chewing on the inside of his cheek. “We texted a bit. Why?”

Sabrina grunted. “Because she told us her side of the story, Mosche.”

“Her side of what story?” Mosche asked.

You thought for a moment that Sabrina might actually just kill him. If she had mind powers she probably would have popped his head like a pimple in that split instant. Then she let out a long breath and sat down across from him, folding her hands together in front of her. “Mosche. Whose idea was it for her to have sex with multiple people?”

“Um, hers?” Mosche said. “I didn’t want her to, but I’m a feminist, right? So I can’t tell her what to do with her body, ‘cause it’s like ... her body.”

“Are you sure?” Sabrina asked.

“I think so?” Mosche said. “Unless being a feminist is bad now?”

You groaned, covering your face with your palm, as Sabrina just closed her eyes for a moment and breathed. “Mosche,” she said. “I meant are you sure it was her idea? Did she say those words and make the suggestion?”

“I ... um, yes?” he hedged.

“What exactly did she say?”

“I don’t remember,” he said.

“Do you think maybe that’s a problem?” Sabrina asked.

“Do you think I’m smoking too much weed?” Mosche asked. “Is it affecting my memory?”

“Maybe,” you said.

“No- well, maybe,” Sabrina said. “I mean do you think it’s a problem that you can’t remember how she even suggested it to you?”

“I dunno,” Mosche said.

“God,” Sabrina scoffed, burying her face in her hands in exasperation. “Baby, can you try and talk to him?”

“Mosche, did Tasha say she wanted to have sex with other people, or did you just have that feeling?” you asked.