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Before I knew it, I was staring into my fridge at dairy products not made from a cow, but rather from oat. What the fuck is that? Oat milk? Explain to me where an oat has a goddamn nipple.
“Take the job and stay with me for a bit.” But the moment the words fall past my lips, I realize what a huge mistake I just made. Shit.
“Insults? Really? After I offered you my place to stay so you could take a job you really want and finally move out of your parents’ house?” “Huh, did I ever tell you how much I like your hair?”
In a slow deliberate voice, he repeats, “Keep your mess to yourself.” “You’re very particular, you know that?” “Because I know you well, and I know your faults.” “I would barely say bringing animals home is a fault.” “Do I need to bring Bessy up again?” Huffing and crossing my arms, I say, “You sleep one night out in a shed with a wonderfully large cow and you’re butt hurt for life. Honestly, Maddox.”
“The job is in Chicago, Mom. If I stayed here with you and Dad, that would be one hell of a commute every day.” “But there are felons in Chicago.” Yup, she’s that mom. “I know this might be hard for you to hear”—I grip her shoulder—“but, Mom, there are felons everywhere.”
“She’s one of my best friends.” Jason slaps the table loudly, startling us both. “Fuck, could you imagine if you two fall in love? Friends to lovers, God that makes my little romantic heart beat faster.” Did I mention Jason is obnoxious and weird?
“Oh my God, did you make more muscles?” Make more muscles. Only Kinsley would phrase it that way.
“Pilates has been good to me.” She lifts up her arm and flexes for me. “Look at that bicep.” She nods to the tiny, little lump in her arm. “Go ahead, feel it.” Chuckling, I reach out and squeeze her arm with my finger and thumb. Surprisingly, it’s quite stiff. “Wow, Kinny, that could be a registered weapon.”
I don’t need love or a relationship with some other girl. I have Kinsley. She’s my person.
“Is that olive oil bottle empty?” “Huh?” Kinsley looks up from her plate, her mouth full of tempeh cake. Her eyes zero in and then she wipes her mouth with a cloth napkin. Where the hell did those come from? “Oh, maybe?” Maybe? MAYBE?
“It was a pretty awesome game,” Lincoln says next to me, whipping his towel off so his bare ass is right next to my face. “Jesus Christ, man.” I turn away and he laughs, not giving one single fuck about being naked and inches from my head. “Can you not do that shit? My cheek almost touched your . . . cheek.” “That would bring a new meaning to the term moon-landing.” “Moon-landing?” I ask, instantly regretting the question. “Oh dude, come on, don’t you remember that rookie? Oh fuck, what was his name?” Linc, rubs his temples, thankfully wearing a pair of boxer briefs now. “Darren, that’s it.
...more
“Don’t,” she yells. “I will pee the bed. I will pee right here, right now. All the pee. Puddles and puddles of pee. So much pee you’ll think Niagara Falls just came flooding through your room.” I pause. “Niagara Falls of urine?” “So much urine. You have no idea the kind of splash I can make with my bladder.” “It’s disturbing when you say shit like that.”
“She was there, holding me tightly, when Jamie broke my heart. She’s been a part of every milestone in my life that’s carved and shaped me into the person I am today. I can’t jeopardize losing her over some weird feeling that’s in the pit of my stomach.”
“If you help me score the girl, I might actually be okay with you staying in my apartment . . . as long as you don’t shit in it.” I give him a stern eye and then stand from the bench. I tug on his leash and he tugs back, only to lift one leg and pee on the unsuspecting tree right next to him. While staring at me. Intently. I shudder. Maybe all he needed was the talk.
Maddox: I’m so not good at this shit. When I want to make a move, I make a move, but easing into it, so much fucking harder. Cory: I don’t envy you. Good luck. Maddox: That’s it? That’s all the advice you’re going to give me? Cory: Natalie is in lingerie, stroking my thigh. Yeah, that’s it. Night, man. I drop my phone on my nightstand and mutter, “Lucky bastard.”
“I prefer blow jobs.” Err . . . what? I blink a few times. “I really like having a cock in my mouth. Is that weird?” Blinks more. “There’s just something about the power I gain when I have a penis in my mouth, because frankly, with one firm bite down, I could ruin a guy’s night.” More like life . . . but night’s fine.
“Don’t call me Daddy to the dog.” Her cheeks redden. “I don’t call you that. Herman does. I don’t have the heart to tell him differently.”
“Come here, pretty girl,” he coos, and hell, just hearing him talk sweetly to a cat puts a little crack in the wall I’ve erected around my heart. “I’m going to change everything out for you, make it nice and fresh in here.” Okay, he doesn’t need to talk to the cat. That’s just making everything worse.
Once she’s gone, I take a pair of scissors and open the package, only to bring it to the floor for Herman to look at. He barely lifts his head when I show him the package, and then just lies back down again. “Your excitement is overwhelming,”
If I had a paper bag, I’d be breathing into it right now.
“Dude,” Jason says coming up next to me. “Herman in a tux is a nice touch. I’ve taken at least twenty pictures with him and can foresee at least ten more. He has that brooding look down. Dog’s got game, I see the lady dogs giving him the eye. Like, ‘oh, over here, Herman, bring those fine three legs over here.’” “Why did I invite you?” “Couldn’t be sure,” Jason says, taking a sip of his drink. “Could. Not. Be. Sure.”
