5. Golden Dicking #2
I feel just fine, that’s exactly why I know this doesn’t feel right, and when his lips descend, brushing across mine, I lift my knee, accidentally shoving it in his balls.
Oops.
Simon cries out, grabbing his crotch. “What the hell, Jennie?”
“I said no,” I grind out, shoving against him. One hand is still gripping my waist, and I go tumbling with him, tripping over his legs on my way down. I yelp at the sharp sting radiating through my ankle, clutching it as I spew a record amount of curse words.
“What the fuck was that for?” Simon’s on his back, still grabbing his junk, rolling around like a turtle who can’t get up. “I thought we were having a moment!”
“Did you think that after I said it wasn’t a good idea? That we should say good-bye?” I scramble to my feet, nabbing my things as furious heat rolls through me. “Not everybody wants to fuck you, Simon! We’re friends. We will never be more than friends. Accept it, or we’re done.”
My ankle buckles under the weight it no longer wants to bear, and tears of fury prickle at the shooting pain as I storm across the studio. The sound of the door banging behind me echoes through the empty hallway.
If this asshole fucked up my ankle, I’m going to scream.
* * *
“Mother…fucking… fuck !” I slam the car door before leaning through the open window, smiling at my Uber driver. “Thank you so much, Matthew. Have a great night.”
His smile is wobbly, eyes wide with fear. “Good night, ma’am.”
Closing my eyes and inhaling deeply, I turn toward the mini-mansion in front of me. With something like seven fireplaces, it’s not all that mini. Who needs that many fireplaces, you ask? My ostentatious-as-fuck brother, apparently.
The front door opens, revealing Olivia, hands on her belly as she bites her grin back. “Thought I heard my wonderful sister-in-law. Mouth of an angel, I swear.” She gestures at my foot as I hobble toward her. “Dancing injury?”
“Simon Syphilis inflicted.”
She pulls a face. “You need repellant.”
Fucking tell me about it .
Inside, I give her a squeeze. “Hey, Pip.”
Olivia frowns, crossing her arms over her chest when I release her. She’s so tiny. Paired with the pregnancy, it’s impossible for her to look as angry as Carter and I make her. She looks more adorable than anything.
“I’m not sure I’m a fan of this new nickname.”
“But it’s perfect. You’re everyone’s favorite pip-squeak.”
There’s a tall blonde sitting on the kitchen island, one long leg slung over the other.
Cara hops down with a grin, swallowing me in her hold.
“I called her a shrimp earlier and she tried to pull my hair. She’s a feisty mama with these pregnancy hormones.
Threw a hissy fit when I kept her at bay with my hand on her forehead. ”
“You gonna have those hormones soon or what? ’Cause I’m scared of you as it is. I need to mentally prepare myself.”
Cara laughs, then frowns, nibbling the tip of her thumbnail. She huffs, and that frown turns into a full-blown pout. “Not yet. Emmett says if I sit on his dick one more time without a break longer than twelve hours, it’s gonna fall off. Apparently, ‘I’ll kiss it better’ isn’t the correct response.”
“It’s early still,” Olivia reminds her gently. “Give it some time.”
Cara draws a pattern on the marble countertop.
“I know. Guess it’s messing with my head that Carter knocked you up by accident and it hasn’t happened for us yet despite the endless sex and the fucking calendars.
” She runs her teeth along her lower lip, eyes hooded.
“Not that I mind all the trying. I’d ride that man into oblivion. He’s got a dick made of gold.”
“Thanks for the mental image,” I murmur, pouring myself a glass of water.
She grins. “When are you gonna get yourself your own golden dick? They’re magical, promise. Just ask Ollie.”
“No part of me wants to know about Ollie’s experience with whatever’s between my brother’s legs.”
“Agreed.” Olivia follows me to the couch, then starts painting her lips with the ends of her hair, a faraway look in her eyes. “But if we could, like, talk about it for one little minute…” She gives me puppy eyes, and before I can protest, she goes on. “It’s just that Carter’s been so gen—”
“ Babe !” The front door slams open, voices pouring into the house, and three seconds later Carter’s sliding into the room, chest heaving in his three-piece suit.
“Guess what I got!” He rips open a small shoe box, tosses it to the floor, and holds up the tiniest pair of hockey skates I’ve ever seen.
“ Look how cute these are !” His grin is so wide, and he’s nearly vibrating. “Cutest skates for the cutest baby!”
“I’m not sure Baby Beckett will be able to stand, let alone skate, when those fit.”
“That’s what I said, Ol,” Emmett says as he strolls in. He kisses Cara’s cheek and slaps a hand to her ass. “Told him not to bother wasting his money. He said he was rich and bought them anyway.”
Adam claps Carter’s shoulder. “Leave him alone. He’s a proud dad-to-be.” He smiles at me. “Hey, Jennie. How’s the new place? Too bad you got Garrett for a neighbor, huh?”
Before I can answer, the man in question comes inching down the hallway at the literal pace of a snail.
Where I’m uneasy about seeing him after the dildo fiasco, he looks downright terrified, ears already bright red, throat bobbing, eyes wide as they pinball around the room, landing everywhere but on me.
He clears his throat, tugging on the wrist of his suit jacket. “We talkin’ ’bout the baby skates?”
“Actually, we were talking about the golden dicking Jennie needs.”
The teensy skates fall from Carter’s hands at Cara’s words, like the glass of water does from mine. I manage to catch it before it hits the ground, but not before soaking my top.
“No, we weren’t!” I yell at the same time Carter shrieks, “Jennie doesn’t need a dicking!”
Cara and Emmett cackle, and Adam’s busy patting Garrett’s back.
Because the man is keeled over, choking on his own damn spit, and I’m about to punch him right in the nuts if he doesn’t reel it the fuck in.
I hate him. I hate him so much. Him and his lopsided, happy smile, and his stupid blond hair, always a beautiful, perfect disaster.
When he finally remembers how to breathe, his frightened eyes land on me.
I wish they hadn’t. Why, you ask?
Ever had a box full of rubber dicks explode in front of a super-hot hockey player? Ever had one of them slap him right in the face? No? Just me?
Cool.
Well, anyway. That’s why.
“Jennie needs someone to roll around with,” Cara continues. “Have some fun and live it up while she’s young and single.”
“No fun!” Carter’s still screaming. “Jennie doesn’t need to have fun!”
“What about your dance partner?”
Carter gasps. “Not Steve .”
“Simon,” Olivia reminds him.
“I will break him, Jennie. Break his soul. Crush his balls.” Carter squeezes the air, or rather, Simon’s imaginary balls.
I check my nails while Carter finishes one of his overprotective dad-bro bullshit spiels. “Are you done?”
He leans close. “Twinkle Toes will never dance again.”
“Great.” Standing, I gesture at my soaked top. “Can I borrow a shirt, Ollie? I can’t go to the game with a see-through shirt and a black bra.”
“No, you cannot,” Carter agrees aggressively, still worked up about the casual fun I’m not even having.
With an eye roll, I follow Olivia out of the room.
“My eyes are on my face, Andersen,” I mutter as I brush by Garrett, noting the way his gaze is glued to my chest. Inwardly, I smile as his cheeks heat like a volcano before he drops his stare to his fancy shoes. He’s so damn awkward; teasing him is too easy.
Ninety percent of Olivia’s shirts are bordering on crop top length due to the several inches I have on her, so the Vipers tee I settle on elicits a glare from my brother loaded with a fuckton of disapproval when I meet him downstairs.
“Wanna borrow a sweater too?” he asks. “You can wear one of mine.”
“No thanks.”
“You might be cold.”
“It’s warm in the arena.”
“I can see your belly button.”
“I can see that your eyes work.”
“Fucking sisters,” Carter grumbles, adding something about wandering eyes and dead teammates as he yanks open the door to the garage. I think he was doomed to be this overprotective, that it came with the territory of trying to fill my dad’s shoes, making sure I never get hurt.
He doesn’t have much to worry about anyway. I never let anyone close enough.
Carter glances back at me as the boys start to filter out, and his gaze softens as Garrett approaches. “Garrett told me he helped you look for Princess Bubblegum.” He pecks my cheek. “We’ll keep looking.”
He steps into the garage, leaving Garrett standing there like a deer in headlights.
“Is that right?” I murmur, chin lifting. “What else did Garrett say?’
“Nothing,” Garrett promises hastily, hands up between us like he needs protection. “Nothing, Jennie, I swear. I wouldn’t—I would never tell him—”
“Tell him what?”
His jaw dangles, fingers plowing through his hair. “Nothing? ’Cause there’s nothing to tell. So I wouldn’t tell him…anything.”
I smile. Garrett stares, mouth opening and closing over and over, like he can’t find the words he’s looking for.
That’s okay, because I’m trying to pretend I don’t notice the way he fills out his slim-fitting burgundy suit, how the jacket stretches across his broad shoulders.
His thick, mile-long legs lead down to a pair of cognac leather shoes, and my gaze lingers too long on that messy hair, the way it really ramps up the fuck me factor.
I have an urge to bury my fingers in it, hold on tight while I take his pretty face for a ride.
I gesture at his midnight blue tie, loose and too far to the left. “Your tie is a mess.”
“What?” His eyes dip. “Oh. Yeah. Okay. Thanks.” He fiddles with the knot, and my brows jump at the way he somehow manages to make it so much worse. “Good?”
I shake my head, taking the silk in my hand, tugging him toward me. He comes tumbling forward, big hands swallowing up my waist to catch himself.
“Sorry!” He drops his hold, staring at his hands. “So sorry.”
I unknot his tie, fix each length, crossing and looping the material.
“Thank you,” he murmurs. “How did you learn how to do that?”
Memories flood of me snuggled in my parents’ bed, watching my dad knot his tie, slip on his suit jacket, fix his sleeves. “Watched my dad get ready for work every morning.”
Garrett’s eyes flicker before his gaze falls, locking with mine. “I’m sorry we didn’t find Princess Bubblegum.”
“There was a locket too.” The words are out of my mouth before I can stop them, and I drop my gaze to the space between us.
“What?”
The tips of my fingers flutter over my collarbone where the gold used to rest. “A locket. A heart, with a picture of my dad and I. Princess Bubblegum was wearing it.” I swallow the memory, flapping a hand through the air.
Garrett dodges it before it can slap him across the face, much like my dildo.
“It’s no big deal.” It’s a huge deal. “I’ll be fine. ” I’m not okay.
“Maybe it’s still at your mom’s,” he offers gently.
It’s not; I’ve looked.
Correction: I’ve torn the house apart several times, definitely not while sobbing.
Mom promised she’d keep an eye out, but I just know she’s gone for good.
Lost somewhere between the house and the condo.
Recognition that I may never again see something so special to me unfurls a raw ache deep in my stomach.
I quell the urge to place my hands over the pain.
A throat clears, drawing our eyes to where Cara and Olivia wait, staring. It’s at this point I realize I’ve finished the knot long ago and am now just standing here with Garrett’s tie in one hand, his face mere inches from mine.
Dropping the tie, I step back.
“Uh, I guess I’ll…” Garrett thumbs toward the garage, where Carter is screaming for him to hurry up. “See you guys at the game.” His tender gaze moves over me once more. “I’m sorry about your necklace.” Warm fingers graze mine, a squeeze so gentle I can’t be sure it’s real, and then he’s gone.
“That was interesting,” Cara muses as he disappears.
Olivia licks an Oreo. “Super interesting.”
I stroll to the fridge, hiding my face. “What was interesting?”
Cara grins. “Oh look, Liv. Jennie’s playing clueless.”
“Imagine all the possibilities.”
“Dangerous possibilities.”
“Carter would be livid.
“We should videotape his reaction.”
I shut the fridge and strut down the hall.
“Where you going?” Cara calls.
“Bathroom.”
I hear the smile in her voice right before I lock myself away.
“If you think the bathroom is going to save you from me right now, sweet, na?ve Jennie, you’re more delusional than I thought.”