Chapter 12 #2
He shifts uncomfortably, his jittery motions making this so much more intriguing.
Does it have to do with me? Maybe something I said?
Maybe something that happened while he was getting his ankle worked on?
Maybe . . . oooo, maybe there was a fan that he ran into and she’s obsessive and turned into a stalker and he saw her.
The imagination is running wild.
Finally, he clears his throat and says, “Uh . . . ever hear about”—he clears his throat again—“piercings on a guy’s . . . uh, penis?”
*Blinks*
Errr, what?
Well, that was not what I was expecting, not even in the slightest.
I’m actually so caught off guard that the corners of my lips twitch upward, a laugh wanting to escape my throat, because . . . penis piercings? That’s what has him all in a tizzy?
What the hell happened while he was icing his foot?
I thought maybe he was worrying over something that happened while he was doing his exercises, like .
. . maybe he blasted a fart right in Grace’s face while she was stretching him.
That would warrant the tight jaw and the uncomfortable shifting.
But a dick piercing? Never in my wildest dreams would I have expected him to say that.
..which of course sends my brain into a tailspin.
Because Halsey Holmes is nervous about talking about penis piercings.
It’s so cute. So adorable. And so unmistakably hilarious.
Keeping my composure, I say, “Yes, I’ve heard of penis piercings. Why do you ask?”
I can visibly see him gulp. “The guys, they thought that I, uh . . . that I should, you know, get one.”
Oh dear God, what goes on in that locker room?
Okay.
Stay calm.
Do not laugh.
BLAKELY! Do not freaking laugh right now.
He’s clearly distraught. This is a moment for him, and you need to be a supportive friend.
DO NOT LAUGH!
“Do they now?” I ask, my smile not holding back. “What are your thoughts on the idea?”
“I have none.”
“Well, not to throw you off, but it seems like you do have some if you’re not yourself at the moment. Are you considering it?”
He lets out a sigh and shifts again. “Sure,” he says, almost as if he’s giving up.
“Sure you’re considering it? Do you know what kind of penis piercing you want?”
He rubs his hand over his thigh again, avoiding all eye contact with me as I drive us back to the apartment. “No, not really.”
“Is there a reason you want one? Is it more for pleasure for others or is it like a decorative thing for you? Like . . . hanging up ornaments on the Christmas tree?”
“What? Uh, no.” He shakes his head. “I mean . . . not decorative.”
“So pleasure then. I have heard that having sex with a man who is pierced is a whole new experience. Is that what you want to offer to the ladies?”
“Fucking hell,” he mutters. “I, uh . . . sure, I guess.”
My cheeks flush from the thought. “Well . . . that could be . . . fun. Women like to be pleasured.”
“They do.” He nods, then as if he thinks of something really quick, he says, “I pleasure them just fine. Like, I don’t need this piercing to give them a better time, if that’s what you’re thinking. I don’t need the piercing like another guy might need it. I’m perfectly capable in that regard.”
I’d assume he is from the bulge I’ve seen.
He drags his hand over his face. “What I’m trying to say is that I’m good at sex, and I don’t mean that in a narcissistic way.”
“I’m not thinking that. It’s nice to have confidence in your sexual capabilities. Glad to hear you can rock a girl’s world.” I pat him on the shoulder. “Well done.”
“It’s just, I don’t want you thinking I need this piercing for anything other than just . . . wanting one, I guess.”
No, Halsey, I never would have guessed that you’re the type of guy who’d want to strap his dick down and get it pierced. I wouldn’t even think a tattoo would be of interest. That’s how bland of a man I consider him.
“Well, if you’re into that kind of pain, it might be great for you. A real step forward. Let me ask, do you like penis pain, Halsey?”
“Jesus Christ,” he mutters as he turns his attention back to the window.
“Well . . .” I push.
“You know, forget I even said anything.”
Probably for the best.
HALSEY
Halsey: That was a fucking disaster.
Posey: What do you mean? Are you ruining this for us?
Halsey: No! You are!
Silas: What did you say? Did you say it right?
Penny: Yes, please regale us with what you said, because we did nothing wrong. This is all on you.
Halsey: All you told me to do was talk about dick piercings with no guidance. And then you threatened me if I didn’t talk about it.
Pacey: In Halsey’s defense, that’s exactly what happened.
Halsey: Thank you!
Posey: But what did you say?
Halsey: I just said that the guys were talking about how I should get a dick piercing, and it was so awkward and uncomfortable that I ended the conversation when she asked if I was into dick pain.
Silas: She asked you about dick pain?
OC: Are you into dick pain?
Halsey: NO! Like I said, a fucking disaster.
Penny: Disaster? I call that a SUCCESS!
Posey: I was just about to say the same thing.
Halsey: How the hell was that a success?
Penny: Take it from the only lady in the group, she’s now thinking about your penis and that is step one.
Posey: ^^^ Correct. There is penis thinking now.
Silas: Yeah, I can see the validity in that.
OC: I know it’s worked on me. **winces**
Pacey: I like you more and more every day, OC.
OC: I feel that hard.
Halsey: So now she’s thinking about her brother’s penis? Is that what we wanted?
Penny: Precisely. On to stage two.
Posey: Onward ho!
Pacey: Oh I can’t wait to fucking see what stage two is.
Penny: The first touch.
Halsey: What?
Penny: Listen closely . . . lean in. Are you ready?
Halsey: Jesus Christ.
Posey: I think that’s his way of saying he’s listening.
Penny: Good. So she’s thinking of the penis. Now, we need to lean into the first touch, and it needs to be in bed.
Halsey: No fucking way.
Penny: Remember the threat? It applies to stage two as well.
Halsey: I’m not going to touch her in bed. That’s completely uncalled for. And what kind of touching are we talking about?
OC: GRAB HER TIT!
Pacey: Dude.
OC: Right, sorry. I charged to that rather quickly. Please disregard.
Penny: Just a light graze, like an oopsie-daisy touch. And if you can’t nut up and do it in the bed, then maybe in the kitchen while getting dinner, but it has to be a graze with an impact.
Halsey: What does that even mean?
Posey: Dude, you act like you’ve never touched a girl before. You know the zones . . . lower back, back of the neck, side right below the boob . . . stomach if you’re feeling risky.
Silas: Go for lower back, that’s safe.
Pacey: Definitely not side boob.
OC: I personally think the neck might be good. Ladies are into that whole hand necklace thing.
Silas: Shit, yeah. Ollie loves that.
Penny: Yes to all. Stage two commence!
BLAKELY
“Do you want a smoothie?” I ask as Halsey walks into the kitchen, not a limp in his step, which gives me hope. I think he’s healing well and will be able to play soon. I don’t ask about his timeline for two reasons.
One, I don’t want to put pressure on him. He’ll be ready when he’s ready, and the team has been holding on without him. They lost the last two games, but they could afford them.
And the second reason is because I’ve enjoyed having him around. I know I probably shouldn’t be selfish like that especially since this situation isn’t permanent, but it’s been nice to have the company. I didn’t realize how lonely I was since Perry’s been gone.
Halsey in his typical shorts and nothing else leans against the counter next to me and says, “What kind are you making?”
Fresh from the shower, he smells amazing, like he dipped himself in soap and didn’t rinse it off.
“Chocolate, banana, and peanut butter with some oats.”
“Sounds good. I’ll take one if you don’t mind.”
I smirk at him. “It’s why I offered.”
“Do you need help?”
“Can you peel the bananas for me?” I ask.
“Yeah, I can handle that.” I hand him two bananas and toss some ice into the blender.
“This is my favorite breakfast smoothie ever. Back in college, Kenzie and I tried different combinations and recipes, looking for the perfect smoothie. We tried some doozies until we found the best combo or ingredients.”
“Oh yeah?” he asks. “What were some of the doozies?” He sticks one of the bananas in the blender as I measure the protein powder for two.
“Kenzie thought it would be a good idea to try to mix tapioca pudding with grapes and ice.”
“Ew,” he says with a sneer. “Why did she think that would be good?”
“She was attempting to be creative. It did not work out.” I stick the other banana in the blender, and he tosses the peels in his compost bin on the counter.
I’ve never composted before, but his building composts, so I’ve learned, and I’ve decided when my apartment is finally ready, I’m going to try it as well.
“Okay, we just need the oats.” He hands me the canister and I pour about half a cup into the blender.
He takes a step closer to me and fidgets as he looks into the blender.
“You okay?” I ask.
“Huh? Oh yeah. Just interested in how it’s all mixed. Blenders are fascinating.”
I chuckle. “They are, aren’t they?”
God, he’s so strange sometimes. Confident and sure of himself.
Then completely awkward and aloof.
Funny and charming.
Dark and distant.
He’s put me through a roller coaster of emotions, yet for some odd reason, each of those emotions seems to fit him perfectly.
I turn the blender on and together, we watch the ingredients mix.
Yup, blenders sure are fascinating.
He steps in another inch until we’re next to each other. He keeps his eyes trained on the blender, but when I glance up at him, I catch his teeth pulling on the corner of his mouth as if he’s nervous.
“Worried about what it’s going to taste like?” I ask.
“Oh no, it smells good.”
“Okay. I promise I wouldn’t feed you sludge.”
He nervously smiles. “I trust you.”
What is with him?
I turn off the blender and detach the pitcher from the base. “This is seriously the best you’ll ever have.” He leans in closer while I pick up a glass. I hold it up to pour just as he lifts his arm. Assuming he’s trying to help, I turn toward him while saying, “I’ve got this.”
But as I turn toward him, his hand that was about to touch what I assume is my upper back, slides right over my shoulder and to my breast.
Exactly . . . on my breast.
Palm to nipple.
Eyes wide, I stare up at him and catch the realization cross over his face. His expression runs from interested to absolutely mortified.
“Oh fuck,” he says, lifting his hand off my breast as if my nipple just burned his palm. He then shakes his hand, attempting to what I can only assume is shake the cooties off.
But of course, because Halsey is Halsey, in the midst of his shaking, he slams my hand, sending the pitcher right out of my hand and straight to the ground between us, where it shatters, sending smoothie in every direction.
“Jesus fuck, I’m sorry.” He quickly grabs the paper towels and starts cleaning as I stare down at him, watching.
Did Halsey just touch my boob?
I think . . . I think he did.
HALSEY
Halsey: Abort. Abort. This is not going well. I fucking touched her tit! I violated her very being.
Silas: How the fuck did you manage that?
Pacey: Dude, that was NOT one of the zones we talked about.
Posey: HER TIT??
Halsey: Yes. Her fucking tit!
OC: Why was your hand that high? I mean, understandable if you were reaching for my grandma’s lower back or stomach and accidentally touched a boob since my grandma’s hang low, but Blakely?
Silas: Are you really calling your grandma’s boobs low-hanging? Dude, show a little respect.
Pacey: Ninety-five percent of the grandma population has breasts that are neighbors with their belly buttons, but we don’t talk about it. Those boobs have seen things . . . respect their journey.
OC: Sorry.
Posey: How did you touch her tit?
Penny: Wait, hold on. I’m catching up. You touched her boob? THIS IS AMAZING!!! How did it happen?
Halsey: This is not amazing. She was humiliated. I was humiliated. And then the smoothie we were making splattered all over the floor. It was a gigantic mess. Nothing about it was great.
Posey: Not even the boob?
Halsey: I didn’t have time to even register what her boob felt like.
Penny: She has great boobs.
Silas: But how did it happen?
Halsey: I scooted in close and attempted to touch her like you said, I aimed for her upper back, thinking that was the safest zone, and she turned at the same time, and I touched her boob.
Posey: The upper back? Dude, that’s just putting you right back into the friend zone.
OC: Yeah, that’s like a “Hey pal, how you doing?” zone. Not a “come sit on my face” zone.
Pacey: He’s right.
Silas: Thank GOD she turned.
Posey: I was just about to say that. Her turn saved this entire mission.
Penny: Boob touch is perfection. Could not have gone any better. Think about it . . . she’s thought of your penis, and now you’ve touched her breast. You might as well let her catch you caressing yourself. Then we would have hit the jackpot.
Halsey: You have lost your goddamn mind if you think I’m going to let that happen.
Posey: You know I’m all for these stages, but I think him pleasuring himself in front of her is a touch too much.
Silas: He’s already semi-messed up every stage, the last thing we need is him prematurely coming and hitting her in the eye.
OC: Ahh, the old pirate . . .
Silas: Ehh, not quite. Isn’t that when the giver is doing the blowing, and the receiver blows one in the eye?
Pacey: And then the receiver also kicks the giver in the leg?
Posey: And the giver then says Arghhhh like a pirate?
Penny: I’m about to disown all of you.
Posey: That’s fair.
Halsey: Can we get back to the boob! I don’t think this is working. We didn’t talk the rest of the day. I’m failing!
Penny: You’re not failing, we just need to think of something . . . something drastic. Like a real curveball. Let me think on this. I can come up with something great.