Chapter 17
SEVENTEEN
SALTWATER = brOMANCE
SATURDAY
Admittedly, it isn’t the first time I’ve woken up with either Zach or Pecan all up in my space, naked.
It’s the first time one of them finger-fucked me though.
It’s the first time Zach rocked his dick through my folds because I was too sore for anything else.
Morning orgasms—best. Thing. Ever.
Who knew?
Never mind the fact that it’s Zach.
Zach touching me. Kissing me. Holding me.
Moaning above me. Crooning my name like it’s a benediction.
Leaving marks on my skin that I didn’t even bother to hide outside of wearing a Carré neck scarf tucked under his jersey—marks that are still sensitive.
That, if I touch them, are a physical reminder of what we did together.
I shiver, earning myself a frown from Zach. “You cold?”
He doesn’t wait for an answer, just tugs me into his side and holds me closer.
The best part, of course, is that he did that when we were just friends.
Honestly, he can be so annoying, but he’s awesome too. Jo did such a great job with him.
I nestle in his hold. “That’s better.”
His hand’s already pulling the door to Dopie’s open and that’s the only thing stopping me from stroking his ego.
Because I know I shouldn’t get used to this, I make a concerted effort to detach myself so that I can take a seat opposite him for once.
His brows lift because normally, I sit next to him and Pecan goes where I am now.
I’m breaking over a decade’s worth of habits here—this one was forged in Pizza Palace, two blocks away from middle school where we’d gather after heading to the arcade while bitching about classes and their coach who made Coach Bradley look reasonably sane.
“What’s with you?” Zach tips his head to the side. “Where you at?”
I hide a smile then bark out, “Stick control, Bradley. I know you have it in you because you nearly got expelled for messing around in the dressing room our senior year!”
“Coach Mellor was crazy.”
“I think he was very well adapted, considering he had to put up with you and Pecan at the same time.”
Zach grins. It gradually grows cocky. “We’re the only reason we won the cup for our district.”
“Oh, yeah? You two and what about Allinson Taylor?”
He wafts a hand. “Sure, the captain and coach had something to do with it.”
“Ya think? It’s a miracle you and I can both fit in this booth with your head taking up so much space in the diner.”
“Why are you polluting your brain with Coach Mellor?”
I shrug. “Mostly I was thinking about Pizza Palace.”
“Ahhh. Good times.”
“What the hell are you doing sitting in my seat?!” I face Pecan, who’s glowering at me. “That’s my spot.”
“I thought we needed a change,” is my lofty retort, but I wink at Zach so he thinks he’s in on the joke.
He isn’t. Not really.
If I sit next to him, then he’ll kiss me. It’s in his warm gaze. The way he tangled our fingers on the ride over. The soft peck of his lips to the tip of my nose as he helped me out of the SUV.
And I’m not ready for anything public.
Nor am I ready for him to potentially press me into his side as we eat or to maybe feed me French toast or anything remotely romantic/sweet.
I know, I know.
I suck.
Trust issues. What can I say?
Pecan, pouting, drops himself beside Zach. “You finished that essay for comms, Denny?”
“Nah. I have no idea what to write.”
“Why not?” Zach inquires. “I thought Callan was tutoring both of you now?”
“He is. It’s turning into a full-time position. We should probably pay him a salary.” I check out the time. “I told him to join us for breakfast so we could walk over to the library together.”
When Juniper, a server from my English class, appears with three mugs and the coffee pot, I fail to notice Zach’s grimace. Especially when Pecan falls on her like she invented his favorite food group—Nutella.
“Can you bring over extra for Callan, please, Juniper?” I request.
“Sure thing.” She tips her chin at the booth beside us. “Morgan, you okay over there? Kinda look like Pecan. Ya know. Dying.”
“I resent that,” Pecan grumbles, but he snatches at his coffee like he last consumed caffeine a decade ago.
“You would.”
Morgan, also in my English class, grunts. “Less talking, Juniper. Please, dear god.”
Pecan glances over his shoulder. “Still can’t believe you drank me under the table, Morgan.”
“Small but mighty.” She massages her temples. “Anyone have any aspirin? Heroin? LSD? I’ll take anything at this point.”
Juniper snorts. “You’re so melodramatic. Want some too, Pecan?”
“PLEASE.”
“TOO LOUD.” Morgan groans.
Unsurprised when she tucks in AirPods, slides on some shades, and zones the rest of us out, I quirk a smile at my BFF. “Some party, huh?”
“God, yeah. It was brilliant. You should have hung out with us.” Pecan moans as he slurps down some coffee with the meds Juniper tosses at his head.
“I swear Dopie’s burgers and Callan are the only reasons I’m not flunking.
” He pauses. “Maybe you’re right about paying Callan, D. He could probably use the extra cash.”
I flick him on the forehead. “How many times do I have to tell you? No slurping!”
He wrinkles his nose but takes a quieter sip. “It’s early!”
“It’s not. You’re hungover again.”
“Barely.”
“You better not get drunk tonight. We have a game tomorrow,” Zach warns. “I have to prove myself on the ice, Peeks, and I can’t do that if my goalie is dopier than usual.”
Pecan hunches over his coffee like Gollum with the one ring. “I won’t drink tonight,” he sulks, simultaneously reaching for the saltshaker as he dumps a ton in the glass Juniper left for Callan.
Used to their nonsense, I heave a sigh.
I’d help Callan out, but in the bizarre love language of men, this means Pecan likes him.
Smirking, Zach tips up his chin. “Callan’s here.”
Notice I said Pecan.
“You don’t like him?”
His lips twist. “Nah, it’s not that.” He cuts a look at Pecan. “I’ll tell you later when he’s not about to sit down with us.”
“Sure.” I wave at Callan when he sinks into the booth beside me after placing an order at the counter. “Hey.”
Callan rubs a hand through his hair, making it flop forward onto his forehead. Honestly, he’s super cute. Kind of a geek but with a sense of humor that spares him from teasing while among a crowd of jocks. And man, he’s intelligent.
I’d have a crush on him if I hadn’t been hung up on Zach recently and he didn’t have ‘hands off’ vibes.
“Almost missed my alarm,” he greets around a yawn.
“You’re not used to early mornings?”
“I’m used to earlier. Since I got here, my sleep’s out of whack.” He rubs his eyes. “Did you finish that essay for computer science, Pecan?”
When he hunches his shoulders even more, Callan grouses, “That better be a ‘it’s at 75%, Callan,’ because it’s due on Tuesday and I know damn straight you’re going to get nothing done tonight when there’s that party at Below 0.”
Pecan’s back to pouting. “It’s more like 45%.”
Callan hisses. “I don’t believe you! I went through the whole exercise with you twice.”
“It’s hard!”
“It’s not. You just don’t apply yourself.”
Zach chortles. “That’s the story of your life, Pecan.”
“We’ll hit the books after breakfast so you can finish the damn essay and—”
Pecan jerks upright. “You want me to go to the library on a SATURDAY?”
He totally shrieks because, of course, he forgot why we’re meeting up for breakfast this morning.
“I do. You’ll party tonight—”
“He better not get drunk or I’ll feed him a knuckle sandwich,” Zach inserts coolly.
“—and knowing you, there’ll be another post-celly party tomorrow night too—”
“I appreciate the confidence in my skills,” Pecan preens.
“—and you’ll procrastinate Monday which means I’ll get an emergency email at 11 PM again.”
“That’s it, Callan, give him boundaries,” I bait.
Pecan shoots me a wounded look. “Hey, D and I were thinking… about covering you for tutoring us.”
Callan chokes out a laugh. “It’s fine. If you pay me, I can’t give you shit.”
I snort. “Sure you can. But if you’re certain…?”
“Oh, I’m certain. If he paid me, he’d justify mayday emails the night before assignments are due. Thanks for offering though!” Reaching for his glass, he takes a sip of water and then, rather deservedly, showers Peeks in it.
Gleefully, I waggle my coffee cup at him. “That’s what you get for applying yourself to pranks and not work.”
Callan gapes at him. “You put salt in my water?”
“It’s a thing,” I assure him.
“Don’t you have brothers?” Zach toys with a packet of sugar.
Confused, I ask, “How do you know that?”
“Pecan told me.”
Callan’s still doing a great impression of Nemo. “Why would you dose my drink with salt?”
Pecan pouts. “Glad I did now you’re making me go to the library on the weekend.”
I pass Callan my water and ignore Pecan. “Because he’s a toddler. We were always going to the library, Peeks. You have the memory of a sieve.”
“I’d have thought your brothers would have pulled that prank.” Zach sips his coffee.
“My brothers are a lot older and they baby me.” Still looking bewildered by the prank, he runs a paper towel over his tongue.
“It’s a sign of affection.” When his eyes bug out, I pat his arm while Juniper drops off our orders. “Honestly.”
Zach whistles as he douses his bacon in maple syrup. Pecan, still patting himself down, notices and beams at him.
“You broke the dry spell, huh?”
I don’t groan because that would be too obvious. Not as obvious as Zach drowning food in maple syrup—something he only does when he’s celebrating.
Not a win. Getting laid.
Pecan’s delight has him freezing mid-pour.
“You aiming for diabetes?” Callan dabs his tongue with another paper towel.
“That won’t work.” I tap his arm. “Having experienced this one too many times, you just have to drink more water and then eat something sweet for breakfast.”
“They did this to you?”
When I nod, a slow smile curves his lips as he settles into the booth.
Relieved he picked up on what I was trying to tell him, Pecan asks, “Who’d you fuck, bro?”
“Why do these conversations have to happen when I’m around?” Callan wails. “My sisters-in-law always talk about their sex lives when I’m playing video games with them.”
Because that distracts Pecan, Zach finally stops pouring maple syrup onto his bacon and shoots me an apologetic look.
Picking up his fork, Pecan digs into a stack of pancakes. “What do they talk about?”
“Positions. Locations. You name it. I’ve heard it.”
“Why do they talk about it in front of you?”
“They like me, I guess?” He takes a sip of untainted water and gags before drinking some more. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve an honorary pair of traveling pants, but they make me work to keep them.”
“You’ve seen that movie?!” I gush.
“Yeah. Unfortunately. My sisters-in-law, Zee and Tee, made me watch it. Said it was a rite of passage.”
“Yeah, if you’re a teenage girl,” Pecan jeers.
“And what’s wrong with that, Peter Canard?” I grind out, earning a wide-eyed stare from the man in question.
He swallows hard then wheezes, “Nothing! Nothing at all.”
Callan chuckles. “Beware the use of the full name.”
“No one wields it like Denny. Not even my mom,” Pecan blurts out before changing the subject. Never let it be said he can’t be smart sometimes. “So, they talk about orgasms and shit? Or bras?”
Callan frowns. “Why would they talk about bras?”
“Pecan’s got a tit obsession.” Zach scrapes a strip of bacon through the deluge of syrup. “Remember when you wanted to jack off in the women’s section of JC Penney?”
Pecan punches him in the arm. “That was one time!”
“Public indecency is what it is,” Callan derides with a weather eye like Pecan’s hiding a Jason mask under his shirt. “Probably a few other minor offenses too, come to think of it. Were you being a peeping Tom?”
“Nah, he just liked all the lace.” Zach smirks as Pecan blushes. “Thankfully, he’s grown out of that phase, if not the obsession with—” At my unimpressed look, he course-corrects. “—mammary glands.”
“Not sure men ever grow out of that,” Callan retorts.
You guessed it—dreamily.
“Do we have to talk about tits over breakfast?” I nag.
Juniper arches a brow as she hands me my avocado toast and Callan’s poached egg on rye.
“They’re talking about tits?”
“They are. What size bra are you wearing, Juniper?” I wink, cackling when Pecan almost drops his coffee cup as his head whips to the side.
“That’s for my girlfriend to know and for Pecan to not find out.” She sashays off with Pecan’s eyes glued to her ass.
Zach slaps him upside the head. “Eyes straight ahead. You’re a boyfriend now.”
“I’m only looking!”
“That’s all it had better be. I told you. I’m not friends with cheaters. Unless it’s for exams.” I waggle my fork at him. “Not that I have to worry. I reckon Hailey’d get there with the carving knife first.”
I don’t know the girl, but I’ve seen her deal with the puck rabbits that linger around Pecan at parties.
No way she’d let him get away with cheating on her.
Pecan groans. “That’s so hot.”
When Zach and Callan nod, I tsk at their idiocy. “The fact she’ll carve you up with a knife?”
“Of course. The crazy ones are always the freakiest in the sheets. It’s why I had a massive crush on you when we were younger before Zach—”
I study them both when Pecan yelps, as Zach clearly kicked him under the table.
“Before Zach, what?”
“Nothing,” Pecan blusters, shoving a massive slice of buttermilk pancake into his mouth.
I skewer the man in question with a glower. “What did you do?”
“Me? Oh, nothing.”
Callan whistles. “Think you might have a date with a carving knife tonight, Zach.”
“Yeah, Zach, you need to sleep with one eye open,” I jeer, but I silently promise him that we’ll definitely be discussing this later.