Total pages in book: 140
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 137433 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 687(@200wpm)___ 550(@250wpm)___ 458(@300wpm)
“Proud of you, Dove.”
Then I give her a sobriety present, as I finish what I started last night, and make her come on my tongue.
Twenty minutes later, we’re sitting at the table with the entire cul-de-sac clan, and everyone, and I mean everyone—including the goddamn catering staff, housekeepers, children, and decorative plants—seems to know what Bailey and I did in her room.
The first clue was us being fifteen minutes late. The second one was that orgasmic glow on our faces when we assumed the two empty seats at the table.
Now, all the grown-ups are staring at us, while the toddlers hurl mini-waffles at one another.
I know they’re judging me, but considering every motherfucker in this room has their own less-than-pristine happily-ever-after story, I’m not about to sweat about what people think.
“Have a good shower, sissy?” Daria makes a kissy face Bailey’s way, popping a red grape between her glossy lips. “You look uber refreshed.”
Bailey moves smithereens of scrambled egg on her plate with her fork, her face the picture of innocence. “I had to choose what to wear carefully. I run hot these days because of my, um, withdrawal.”
Daria’s smug beam vanishes. I disguise my chuckle with a cough.
“Try not to bite your toes off with that foot in your mouth,” Vaughn drawls. The only reason Penn doesn’t come to his wife’s defense is because he missed Vaughn’s taunt while trying to extract raspberry pieces from Sissi’s hair.
“What about you, Lev?” Vicious takes a swing at me because making people uncomfortable is his lifelong passion. “Do you also run hot or just horny?”
Everyone chuckles, other than Cayden and Sissi, who snap their heads up curiously. “Who’s hormie?”
“Homer,” Racer corrects, deadpan. “Simpson.”
“Wow.” Knight takes a bite of his pastry, sitting back. “This is not uncomfortable at all. Keep going, everyone.”
“So now I’m getting trashed for staying behind and taking care of my best friend while everyone else went out and got tanked?” I arch an eyebrow.
“You’re not old enough to get tanked,” Dad points out.
“Racer is not old enough to get tanked, either, and he tagged along,” I quip back.
“Can everyone please stop using that word in front of the children?” Auntie Emilia flinches.
“Sorry.” Daria sighs. “Old is a triggering word. Which is why I already started on Botox and Juvéderm. Minimal but makes a world of difference.” She winks.
Our families are nuts. No wonder we all ended up coupling with one another.
“You heard my wife. The next shithead to say the T-word gets booted,” Vicious announces.
“Shit!” Sissi tosses star-shaped cucumbers in the air, cooing eagerly. “Shit, shit, shit!”
“Well, this went great.” Knight gives Vicious the thumbs-up.
“Mama and Dada go on a shit,” Cayden says.
“Ship,” Luna coos. “Mama and Dada went on a ship.”
Uncle Vicious throws daggers through his pale blue eyes at everyone at the table, toddlers included. “Everyone in this room is about to be sent packing. If it makes my wife uncomfortable, it goes.”
“Should’ve given your seventeen-year-old self the same advice.” Jaime chugs orange juice, and he and Trent fist-bump each other.
Daria laughs and picks a fussy Sissi up from her high chair. Trent turns the TV on and flips to the sports channel on the grounds that “we need a segue more than I need a stiff drink.”
Small talk about drafts and college football ensues.
Of course, Penn, Dad, and Knight all turn to look at me, with Trent and Racer jumping in eagerly.
It’s not long before the conversation turns from football to my football.
After all, Penn is a 49ers star, and everybody at the table is eager to know if they’re going to have another NFL hero in the gang.
“So, did you get any offers yet, Lev?” Penn lounges back, crunching a piece of bacon between his straight, white teeth.
“Nope,” I lie, feeling my chest constricting as I do. I’m just delaying the inevitable.
I will go to college and play football. That’s what Dad wants, and I want him to be happy. “Sure they’ll come soon.”
“That’s weird. I was sure Michigan was gonna make an offer for you.” Penn’s hair flops over his forehead. He gives Leo DiCaprio in Titanic a run for his money. “Spoke with a pal of mine who knows the coach. He’s been pining for your ass since freshman year. Said it was a done deal.”
Fuck my life sideways with a pair of scissors.
“Maybe we should call the school. Find out where it stands on their end. The USPS is unreliable these days,” Dixie chirps.
First of all, way to blame the postal service for my own doing.
Second, now Dixie is playing mommy? Screw that.
Dad snaps his fingers. “Dixie’s right.”
“Dixie isn’t my mom—no matter how hard she fucking wants to be—so I won’t be taking suggestions from her,” I announce cheerfully.
Everyone’s heads snap my way. Stunned faces scan mine.
I’ve never spoken like that to anyone before, let alone Dixie, who is a pretty awesome chick. But I don’t want to get caught on my lie.