Chapter 21 #2
“I—you know parents,” Addison stutters. “They never let us go.”
“That’s their problem then, isn’t it?”
My stomach grumbles again. I ignore it.
Does she mean it?
Would she honestly, fully, truly tell her parents to fuck off if they weren’t willing to accept her choices?
Would she tell them to fuck off for me ?
Laney frowns at me. “When’s the last time you ate? C’mon. Taco time.”
“I’m good.”
The frown turns into a full-on I will eviscerate you if you don’t stand up and get me the hell away from Addison immediately .
And it makes me smile like smiling is the only thing that matters.
“Yep. You’re right. I’m hungry.” I order my dick to get down, which works better when I pair the instruction with thinking about Aunt Brenda getting it on with my Uncle Owen, and I rise from the table and follow Laney to the line for tacos.
“I haven’t seen you eat at all in the past two days,” she muses.
“You’re not the only one with ninja skills.”
She meets my eyes, then looks down at where my shirt is gaping open.
“Don’t,” I mutter.
“You’re not eating.”
“I’m eating.”
“Why aren’t you eating?”
“ I’m eating .”
“What are you eating?”
I force a smile. “If you give a Laney a bone…”
“This isn’t about me making sure you don’t pass out in the middle of Emma’s wedding and it’s not about me being right and it’s not about rules .
This is about the fact that human beings need to eat , and you’re—you’re—” she waves a hand over my gaping shirt “—you’re this , and that takes diet and exercise no matter how much all of those ripped guys on TikTok pretend it’s just natural and that men don’t have body issues. ”
“I—” I cut myself off, not at all sure what to say in response.
“You’re a human being with needs that too many people around you overlook,” she finishes.
I’m stunned.
Utterly. Fucking. Stunned.
High School Theo would hit back. Make her feel like shit for suggesting I’m a fuckup that no one cares enough about to worry over my basic well-being.
But hungry Theo who’s been hung up on this woman for longer than I can remember, even when I didn’t want to be? Hungry Theo, who doesn’t eat enough because I know what I have going now won’t last forever, so I need to look my best for as long as I can?
Especially since the entire package of me—my dick, my abs, my knitting, my stories—have me getting more validation in the comments of my videos than I’ve gotten in my own real life in ages.
Possibly ever.
Yeah, that Theo, the one getting validation from comments on the internet has a few issues.
And Emma hasn’t noticed my diet. My dad hasn’t noticed my diet. My buddies on the construction crew haven’t noticed my diet.
But Laney has.
I swallow hard. “Okay.”
She studies me too closely.
Way too closely.
Like she knows I’m terrified I’ll lose my six-pack. That strangers won’t tell me I inspired them or comforted them or lifted them up so much the day my body isn’t hard and tight.
The GrippaPeen thing was an accident, but it’s the best accident of my life.
And the worst at the same time.
Laney doesn’t say anything else while we make our way to the front of the line.
My stomach growls harder while the scent of tacos gets stronger.
We’re almost to the front of the line when Chandler’s voice makes my face twitch.
“What the hell?” he says.
Emma makes a noise. “ Chandler . I told you. No peeking.”
“It’s a fucking human hamster ball ,” he hisses.
“It is not .”
“It is . Look.” He rips the fancy wrapping paper off the box at the head table, and Emma’s face goes through about forty-six different emotions while she studies the box.
Laney angles closer to me. “Is it really a human hamster ball?”
“Two,” I murmur back. “Blow-up style. For working out their frustrations after an argument.”
She stifles a noise, then double-stifles it with a hand thrown over her mouth.
“Are you laughing or crying?” I ask.
Her eyes answer for her.
She’s laughing.
Jackpot .
And she’s not the only one.
Giggles and chuckles cascade over the lanai.
“When do we get to come over for game night at your place?” Jack asks.
“Dude, I only want in if they’re not doing freaky newlywed stuff in those. Like, I need to see it bleached before I climb in,” Decker calls.
“Isn’t your yard pretty hilly, Chandler?” Lucky chimes in.
“Oh my god, they’re the perfect size for my dog too!” Sabrina says.
“Why?” Laney whispers to me, her voice strangled like she’s trying not to laugh still.
“Who doesn’t need a set?” I whisper back with a conspiratorial grin.
She muffles another laugh behind her palm.
Home fucking run.
Except for the part where Chandler’s turning a glacial glare on me.
He doesn’t say anything.
Doesn’t have to.
Emma looks at me too, and she winces.
Dammit .
Just dammit .
When does she take my side?
She told me she wanted a set . Dad had a paper sitting out at Thanksgiving with all of the holiday shopping ads in it, and we were looking through it before Chandler got his panties in a bunch, and she pointed to the human hamster balls and cracked up and said they’d be fun.
“Where’s the real present?” Chandler asks.
“Honey, we’re getting married in paradise,” Emma says. “It doesn’t matter.”
“ He stole my real present . He swapped my dinner, and he stole the real present.”
Laney snaps straight.
“Don’t—” I start, but it’s too late.
“The tacos are my doing,” she announces. “Resort catering goofed. There wasn’t food. I got tacos. And that’s an awesome present. If you don’t want it, I’ll take it back. The resort goofed there too. It was a glitchy day. You’re in fucking paradise . Quit being a baby.”
“…do that,” I finish.
Chandler gapes at her.
Emma’s face has twisted into such utter confusion that she probably can’t see straight.
“But—but—but you don’t do funny shit,” Chandler says.
Emma winces harder. “Chandler?—”
“And you know I hate tacos,” he adds.
“Emma loves them.” The deadly calm in Laney’s voice has such a high degree of warning in it that my balls should be shriveling into cold, dead, dried-out walnuts.
Instead, having her defend me—and make no mistake, everyone on this lanai knows that’s what she’s doing—is making me want her.
Badly .
Not for closure.
Not for a vacation fling.
For everything .
Time to go.
I can’t do this.
I want her too much.
I can’t want Laney this much while knowing that even stepping-out-of-her-box Laney wouldn’t appreciate finding out she’s flirting with an adult entertainment star.
That’s too far.
While chatter starts up again about who brought the present and if it’s funny or tasteless and who still wants to play and who loves tacos, I angle back until I’m at the edge of the lanai.
And then I disappear.
If I don’t—if I wait for Laney—I’ll do far worse.
And on a day when I already feel like I’m on the verge of losing my sister, my heart isn’t up for the pain of having one more dream dashed.