Total pages in book: 85
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 97275 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 486(@200wpm)___ 389(@250wpm)___ 324(@300wpm)
“I’m sorry!” I wailed as my emotions went haywire yet again.
“For what?” Max asked as he kicked the door shut behind him.
I didn’t let him go, only wrapped my legs tighter around him when he patted my ass lightly telling me to get down. I ignored him, and let my hand sneak down into the bag and grab a fry. “I’m sorry I’m such a bitch. I don’t know what came over me.”
He grinned, and sat down onto the couch with me. I straddled his lap and ate my burgers and fries. Yes, I did say burgers. This was one of the only times in a woman’s life that she was able to eat what she wanted without ridicule, and I was going to live it up. Sucking down the vanilla milkshake, I was in hog heaven when I finished the last slurp of the shake.
I gave a lady like belch and then laid my head down on his chest, “Excuse me.”
His chest shook, bouncing my head up and down with his laughter. I gave a small smile, and promptly fell asleep.
ɸ
Max
“What the fuck is that?” Jack asked from behind me.
My head swung in the direction he was looking, and I saw the ugliest cake I’d ever seen. Large, lopsided and rectangular, it had puke green icing, and Halloween sprinkles. The message on it simply read, “I’m sorry I’m a bitch.”
“What does it look like, Jacky?” I asked jokingly.
“I don’t know, or I wouldn’t have asked.” He said seriously.
The man was a freaking robot lately. The only time I saw even a semblance of his old self was when the curvy waitress at The Back Porch waited on him. Just last week he saw her at Skinner’s grocery store and about tripped over his feet to follow her through the store. If I didn’t know the man better, I’d have called him a stalker.
“Payton was possessed by the devil last night, and I had to go get her a midnight snack.” I deadpanned.
He blinked twice, and then went over to the drawer closest to the fridge, pulled out a knife, and sliced himself a huge chunk. He did however make sure to leave the piece that said ‘bitch’ intact. He was nice like that.
“What did you need?” Sam asked as he came into the kitchen, followed closely by James and Elliott.
With the entrance of those three, the cake was withered down until nothing was left except for the ‘ch’ in bitch. “I had a problem last night.”
“You mean beside the fact that your wife had a breakdown over the fact that you ate her hamburger that she snuck home?” Gabe said as he walked in, grabbing the piece of cake that was left and popping it in his mouth. His eyebrows were raised in question.
I wanted to shove the last piece of cake into his face, but I didn’t. You shouldn’t hurt the love of your sister’s life. If you did, you might end up having her screeching like a banshee in your house, too.
“We’ve already gotten over that. Now we are talking about the bitch that did her up most best to shoot me last night.” I answered.
The silence in the room was deafening. I went to the coffee pot and poured myself a refill before walking to the table, and shoving Payton’s unmentionables to the floor as I sat. Then I thought better of it when I remembered the reaction to the trash and hamburger from last night. Bending over, I picked them up and tossed them into the middle of the table with my boxer briefs before I thought better of it.
“Whose are those?” Jack questioned.
It was then I’d remembered that Payton’s underwear weren’t normal. Of the five that were not in the middle of the table for everyone to see, every last one of them were from the boys section. Although two of them were solids, you could still tell exactly what they were. There were even two tighty whities.
“Uhhh…” I said not knowing what in the hell to say.
“Hey, aren’t these the birds that Janie calls Bubbles?” James supplied helpfully.
My head went to the table and I started to beat it in slow rhythmical knocks. She was going to kill me. There was no way that they were going to keep this to themselves. After the eleventh time I lifted my head back up and leveled each one of their laughing faces with a serious stare.
“I swear to you, if you bring this up and she cries, you will die.” I said in a low voice.
“All right, boys. Let’s get back to this matter at hand. What happened last night?” He asked.
“I left at oh-three-hundred. I was in line at Dairy Queen for three minutes, and then was on my way back home when the first shot came from my flank. It hit my rear bumper; the other three followed shortly after, but the shooter was the driver, and didn’t have a clear shot. I went down to the Tally Bottoms trying to get them to turn around on themselves, but they didn’t follow. It was the long brown ponytail that clued me in on O’Hare again.” I recounted.
“Vehicle?” Elliott asked.
“Rental.”
“Fuck.” Elliott said.
“I didn’t have my piece on me. She had my head all fucked up last night, and I didn’t take it. I should have had her.” I said, disappointed in myself.
“My man, your six month pregnant wife went Hannibal Lector on you. You’re allowed some leeway here.” Gabe said lightly.
“There was this one time at band camp,” Elliott started and then snickered. “No really, there was this one time when Blaine was about seven months pregnant that we went out to eat. When we got home, I ate the last scoop of ice cream, and she went ballistic. All screaming and crying, so I went to the store, brought it back, and we started the process all over again because it was the wrong fucking brand. I refused to go back, and she didn’t speak to me for two days.”