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Hmm . . . I glance down at the cushion again . . . maybe I could unzip it and slip my body inside? No. Nope. Not going to happen. People fart on couches, so there are farts in these threads and I just won’t do it. I sigh and lean back on the couch just as my eyes connect with the flag. Huh. You know . . . That quite possibly could work.
I cling to him like he’s a lifesaver, helping me stay afloat, yet . . . he’s also the thing drowning me.
“Okay, but have you ever spanked a woman?” “Yes,” I answer, which perks her up. “Really?” she drawls. “Ooo, tell me more. Have you ever tied someone up?” “Just hands,” I answer. “Giving her free range with her legs, that’s fair.” “No, I just wanted to control how far I spread her.” Myla sits tall now as her mouth falls open slightly. Ha! Looks like I found a way to finally stun her.
“Yeah, well, excuse me if I’m handling this differently than you. Not all of us can give zero fucks about life.” “Okay, I can see we’re not going to be civil about this.”
“Everything okay?” she asks. “Yeah, I, uh . . .” I scratch my chest. “I was called up.” The cutest crinkle pulls at her nose as confusion crosses her expression. “Called up to where? The bar? Heaven?” She presses her hand to her chest. “Has your time come to go through the Pearly Gates?”
“But if they taste bad, that’s an omen.” “An omen for what?” “That we don’t have good chemistry.” I lower my éclair and give her an amused look. “Are you really going to base our chemistry off an éclair and not the fact that every time we’re around each other, we have no problem holding a conversation?” “I could hold a conversation with a paper clip if you asked me to,” she says. “So yes, I’m basing our chemistry off an éclair.” “Wow, well then, if that’s the case, I’d like to say that these smell like absolute heaven.” Her expression falls. “You have just relinquished your opinion.” I pause
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“Miss Moore?” the man says again. “I forgot to hand this to you as well.” He holds out a Bobbies jersey, which Nichole takes for me and thanks him. When she holds the jersey up, I immediately see Bisley across the back with the number twenty-two under it. “Well, slap my ass. I think I went for the wrong brother.”
Nichole: We went over this. Just don’t say anything at all. Enjoy the moment, and when he asks you on a date, SAY YES! Myla: Are you sure this is the right move? Am I really ready for this? Nichole: If his ass in those baseball pants didn’t convince you, then I’m at a loss. Myla: I stared at it anytime I had a chance. Nichole: Shamelessly, I did too.
“Um, pretty good. You? I mean that game, wow.” “Do you even know if we won?” I chuckle, and the tension building in my chest eases. “I gathered that you won at the end from the cheering fans. Up until then it was a real nail-biter.” “We won ten to one.” “See, truly won by the skin of your teeth.”
“And your potatoes are overdone. They’re probably shriveled up.” “What? You can’t even see them.” I move over to the air fryer and open the tray, where I find shriveled-up purple fingerling potatoes. Son of a bitch.
“Dude, what the hell is going on?” Banner asks as he meets me in the bathroom. Yup, guys gather in the bathroom too. It’s not just women.
Nola: What happened last night? Penn: Yeah, clue us in. Banner: Well, after the kiss that nearly turned me on just watching it . . . Nola: YOU KISSED? Banner: I would like to clarify: Myla and Ryot kissed. Proceed. Penn: I didn’t think you (Banner) and Ryot kissed, although sometimes brotherly love can go a bit far. Nola: What the hell is wrong with you? Penn: Can’t say.
Ryot: I’m sorry, but I thought you all were my friends and family. You’re supposed to be helpful. Nola: We are. We don’t think it’s the right move. Ryot: Well, I do. You didn’t hear her last night when we were in the hotel alone. You didn’t see the way she looked at me. Something is still there, and if I have to take the next few days to win her back the way I initially did, through friendship and trust, then I fucking will. I’m not giving up on her. She’s had enough people give up on her in her lifetime. I won’t be one of them. Banner: Okay, that got me a little hard. Penn: Nipples erect.
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“Where are you taking me?” Banner asks, looking out the window. “This whole meetup has been evasive and uncomfortable. I would appreciate a little heads-up. Some backstory. Anything. Anything other than you just sitting there in silence. I mean . . . where the hell are we? We’re in a back alleyway. That’s weird, man. Are you going to kill me? Are you part of a mob? Do you owe a bookie money? Dude, don’t be Pete Rose. Don’t bet on the game.” I put the car in park and get out of the car. When Banner doesn’t move, I say, “Get your ass out here.” “Out where? In the brick alleyway? Do you really
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When it opens, a man in a suit answers. “Name?” “Babe Ruth.” He nods and then opens the door. “Follow the hall, first door on the right.” “Thanks,” I say as Banner stands there, his mouth agape. When I push at his shoulder to get him moving, he whispers, “Dude, you’re part of a mob, aren’t you? Listen, I knew I said I would follow you anywhere, but this is pushing it. I won’t survive in jail, you know that.”
“This is Ryot, Myla. Of course he’s going to say sweet things. He always has. What did you think he was going to say? That you’re a rotten bitch, and he hopes you burn in flames?”
“Your cracker. I want it.” “I was saving that cracker,” he says, chin tilted in defiance. “What were you saving it for?” “I was going to dip it in my white wine.” “Dip the cracker into your wine?” I hiss whisper. “Ryot, you realize we’re surrounded by the upper crust of people. They don’t dip crackers in wine.” “They might.” “They don’t,” I reply. “Maybe.” “Guaranteed, they don’t.” I reach for the cracker, but he slaps my hand away. “Keep your sticky paws away from my cracker.”
He stands tall from his chair and says, “I would like to ask the room a question.” “Someone is enjoying his wine,” Banner says, sitting back in his chair, nearly falling out. He grips the table and chuckles. “Whoa, maybe I am too.” Ryot lifts his cracker up and shows it off to the room. “Who here would dip this in their white wine?” I tug on Ryot’s pants and whisper, “You’re drunk. Sit down.” “I would,” JP says, rising from his chair. “So would I,” Breaker says, rising as well. All three of them holding up crackers. “And so would Huxley,” Lottie says, nudging him to stand. “No, I wouldn’t,” he
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“It’s so beautiful here,” she says. “Look at the moon. It’s huge.” “So big, it feels like you can touch it.” As I attempt to lift my hand, I stumble over a rock and plaster myself to the ground. I end up rolling down a short hill while Myla laughs her ass off the entire time. She peeks down the hill and says, “You okay?” Lying on my back, I stare up at her and say, “I fell.” She laughs some more. “I noticed.”
“You’re ridiculous. You can get hit in the elbow by a ninety-five-mile-per-hour baseball and not even flinch, but a rock to the back has you crying for medical care.” “I have my strengths and weaknesses.”
“Remember you came so hard, you got cum in your eye?” “Yeah, and remember when I said that was to never be repeated again?” She shrugs. “It’s best you know that I’ve told Nichole that story at least three times.” “Is that why she calls me a pirate?”
“Yes. Because it was the only time you pushed me over the edge with the complaining about your big toe.” “Babe, that shit hurts. It’s a legitimate injury.” She smiles and lifts her wineglass up. “Okay. So would you compare your pain to something like . . . I don’t know, menstrual cramps?” “Oh no, you don’t.” I shake my head. “I’m not going to fall for that. Nothing, and I mean nothing, is as bad as menstrual cramps.” “You’re only saying that because when we did the simulator, you clocked out at level six.” I lean forward and whisper, “Babe, I thought my balls were about to explode.”
JP smiles sheepishly. “Actually, I have a special guest coming, and I’m meeting up with him in a few to take some pictures.” “A special friend?” Ryot asks. Kelsey comes up and loops her arm through JP’s. “Don’t let him fool you. He’s talking about a pigeon.” “What?” I ask with a snort. A pigeon? I never in a million years would have imagined JP taking pictures with a pigeon. “He has some sick obsession with saving the pigeons.” Kelsey rolls her eyes. “Kazoo is practically his best friend.” “First of all,” JP starts, “pigeons need love too. They are highly underrated creatures. Do I need to
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The wedding was beautiful of course, besides the moment when a pigeon was wheeled down the aisle in a special cart made just for him, the rings next to him in boxes. Not quite sure what that was about, but the pigeon did have a tuxedo on, so that was pretty legit.
“Ugh, come on, man. Look at your girl over there.” He gestures toward Myla. “She’s having a hell of a good time. Go join her. Show her that you’re not some morose platypus over here, just counting down the minutes until you leave Napa.” “Platypus?” I ask. He thins his lips and makes them look like a platypus bill. “A platypus.” “Oddly, that does resemble a platypus,” Banner says with a smirk.
I turn back to Nichole and ask, “Do you need anything else?” “Just for these guys to take their shirts off. I’m sick after all. The least they could do is give me a good show.”
She just casually shrugs. “It would have ruined the moment. I needed to get some good dick in before the chemo really started to hit me.” Leave it to Nichole to tell you like it is.
“Beautiful, and really funny when she finally opens up. Smart, quick-witted, and what did you say to me, some of the greatest tits you’ve ever seen?” Nichole adds. “Besides mine of course.” “You saw her tits?” I ask. “No,” Banner says quickly. “Just, you know, when she bends over and her shirt opens up a bit. They just look plump and nice.” “She wasn’t wearing a bra at the reception, and he could practically hang a just married sign off her hard nipples.”
“Okay, but I reserve the right to have an opinion at the end.” “Cute that you think that.”
“You sure you still want to stay married to him?” I look over my shoulder at the most handsome, generous, and loving man I’ve ever met. “More than sure,” I answer. “Good, that was a test, and you passed.”
“Holy shit. Really, babe?” I ask. “Wait, seriously? You’ve been sitting on that information this whole time while I’ve told you about how I watched a seagull poop on someone today?”
