Chapter Two
Remy
I’m the first one to step through the doors of Taco Bell, and instead of holding the door open for Jude, I let it slam shut in front of his face.
“What the fuck?” he questions on a hearty laugh.
I don’t bother turning around or righting my wrong.
The bastard knows what the fuck.
He knows exactly what the fuck. After his strip club stunt, I’m lucky I didn’t end up in the ER with a dick kabob in my pants.
The aromas of beef and cheese and grease assault my nostrils, and my arteries clench up in anticipation. Though, if I’m being honest, a heart attack might be a welcome distraction from murdering Jude. Sure, it’d put a damper on my wedding, but hell, it’s taking everything inside me not to kick the shit out of my baby brother.
It doesn’t help that I’m reminded of why I should kick the shit out of him every time I move my legs because the giant tear in my boxers has my dick rubbing against the scratchy denim of my jeans.
I don’t have anything against commando, but it’s one of those things that a man likes to choose for himself.
On a deep sigh, I step up to the counter while the sound of my brothers whooping it up like a bunch of rowdy frat idiots echoes off the grimy, cheap ceramic-tiled walls.
Technically, Flynn is an innocent bystander, but it’s so much easier to lump them into a group rather than having to call them out specifically.
I’d like to place my order—food would really go a long way to helping my mood right now—but there’s not a single employee to be found at the register, and the only employees I can see inside the place are standing somewhere near the back grills, doing god knows what.
They notice me standing there, but none of them makes a move to come toward me. Apparently, they’re in no rush tonight.
“Aw, don’t be mad, Rem. I just wanted your bachelor party to be a night you wouldn’t forget,” Jude says as he steps up to wrap an arm around my shoulder in a half-assed hug. I immediately shrug him off.
“Pretty sure you more than achieved that.” Flynn snorts. “Rem’s gonna have nightmares for years thinking about his dick turning into a set of bunny ears.”
“It wasn’t that bad,” Jude retorts, and Flynn is quick on the trigger.
“Wasn’t that bad?” he questions on an incredulous laugh. “Another inch and, not only would Rem have ended up with two dicks, poor Charlotte would’ve had to get reconstructive surgery to route her shit in two different directions like a cable splitter.”
Jude shuts up immediately.
When Flynn voices that something is bad, it means it was really fucking bad . Always the quiet one of our brood, he only speaks up for two reasons: to call someone out on their bullshit or to drop perfectly timed sarcasm that’ll keep you laughing for months.
His wit is quick as a whip, but his mouth rolls slow. If he bothers to take the time to insult you, he means it.
“Wait…why do you guys keep talking about the stripper’s shoes?” Ty asks. “She had shoes on?”
Jude bursts into laughter, and I glance back to catch Flynn’s amused smirk.
Ty, frighteningly enough, still looks genuinely confused. How in the fuck does he not know what we’re talking about?
“Fuck, Ty. My boxers have lost all vestiges of function. She literally shoved one of her stilettos into them and ripped them to shreds. Are you seriously telling me you missed that?”
His jaw drops, and his eyes go wide in shock. “No fucking way.”
“Jesus,” I mutter. “All it takes is a nice set of tits and you’d miss a fucking five-alarm fire.”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Rem,” Ty retorts. “I like tits, but they’re no match for a nice, firm ass. Which Sunshine definitely had.”
I sigh. “You’re splitting hairs.”
“Kind of like how Sunshine split your boxers open?” Jude questions, and I turn around to meet his gaze.
“I made a promise to myself to try not to murder you tonight, but man, Jude, you’re really fucking with my will to follow through.”
He starts to laugh, but when he sees the stern look on my face, he quickly changes his tune. “How about I buy tonight?”
“You want to pay for my Taco Bell?” I question and slide both of my hands into my pockets.
Since I’m the eldest brother in the Winslow brood and I’ve been making money off day-trading on Wall Street since I was twenty, I’m generally the one who picks up the checks. Tonight, though, I’d say I’ve more than earned the reprieve, so I don’t try to talk him out of it.
“Yeah.” He nods. “Please accept this Taco Bell as my formal apology for making you endure tits in your face.”
“And pussy,” Ty offers slyly. “Pretty sure I saw some beavs being shoved in his face too.”
“You’re not helping,” Jude retorts, and Ty smirks.
“What? Just wanted to make sure the facts were straight.”
“Says the guy who was too busy staring at stripper ass and G-strings to notice that his oldest brother’s dick was almost amputated by a fucking shoe,” Flynn chimes in, and Ty just shrugs him off.
“Insignificant details.”
I start to open my mouth to let Ty know that if he keeps referring to the “insignificant” details as insignificant, he might want to get his living will in order, but the sound of a female voice behind me catches my attention before I can officially threaten him.
“Are you guys planning on eating or…?”
I turn around to find a brunette, who doesn’t look a day over eighteen, standing behind the register with a scowl that she gives zero fucks about hiding.
Her face tells me all I need to know. She hates this job, which means she hates us by mere association.
I can’t blame her, though. My brothers are obnoxious assholes.
“Sorry,” I apologize, trying my best to smooth it over. “And yeah. We’re going to order.” I point over my shoulder to Jude. “I’ll be on that idiot’s tab.”
“Okay…and?” she questions, one hand to her hip while the other rests lazily on the register.
“And?”
She blinks and breathes a deep breath in and out of her nose. “Your order…”
“Right. Right,” I respond and look up toward the menu. “I’ll take two beef tacos, two chicken soft tacos, two burritos, two—”
“Wait… Are you ordering everyone’s food?” Jude asks, eyes confused.
“No.” I shake my head. “I’m just ordering mine.”
His eyebrows rise to his forehead. “That’s all for you?”
“Yeah,” I respond and flash a wink in his direction. “Along with…” I pause and turn back to the girl. “I’ll also take a quesadilla, chips and cheese dip, two bags of cinnamon twists, a Mexican pizza, and a large Mountain Dew, and then—” I point toward Jude again “—whatever he’s having.”
Jude groans.
Ty cracks up.
Flynn just stands there, mildly amused by my revenge shenanigans.
And I watch on in utter satisfaction when Jude has to hand over two fifty-dollar bills just to cover our—mostly, my —food.
Suck on that, baby bro.