Chapter 38 #2
She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter to me that the rest of my family’s being dicks and holding grudges because they think her dad’s the triplets’ biological father. Which isn’t gossip, again. I heard you heard. It’s only gossip if you don’t already know it.”
“Look, Sabrina, I like you, but not right now. It’s a me problem. Can you please go away?”
“I haven’t answered your question yet.”
“I take it back. I don’t want to know.”
“You want to know or you wouldn’t have asked.”
“Habit. I was being polite. You’re friends. I felt guilty for not helping you when you asked in the first place.”
“You’re never polite for the sake of being polite, and you only feel guilty because it’s residual guilt on top of the guilt you feel about how Emma’s wedding ended, the fact that Chandler secretly sold the café and blindsided all of us, and then what you did to Laney.
Even though only what you did to Laney is your fault. ”
She’s got me there. “Go away. Time to make more videos. I’m stripping and jerking off in three minutes whether you’re still here or not.”
“You don’t jerk off on your videos and I know you know I know it.” She rolls her eyes like she also knows I have permanently killed my boner factory. It’s on strike.
Pissed at me.
Maybe I’m pissed at myself.
But this thing with Laney couldn’t have happened any other way.
If I hadn’t heard you could make a little side cash waving your willy on GrippaPeen.com, I wouldn’t have tried it.
If I hadn’t unexpectedly shot to the top of the charts—who knew knitting and dicks would be such a hit?
—I wouldn’t have had the cash to pay for Emma’s wedding, Chandler wouldn’t have asked me to cover it, none of us would’ve gone to Hawaii, and the last week with Laney wouldn’t have happened.
Ergo, if I wasn’t an internet porn sensation, I would not have had an opportunity to fall so hard for Laney.
And Laney dating an internet porn sensation isn’t happening.
It’s just not. This is too far for her.
And now I’m being an extra-big dick to Sabrina because I can’t deal.
She’s right. I don’t jerk off on camera.
“I’ll ask her to invest,” Sabrina says, “but not yet. She has enough going on right now.”
Fuck me. When does it end? When does everyone else quit piling on the guilt too? Does she really think I don’t feel anything about what I did on Saturday? “You want to say something, just say it and go away.”
This time, I’m treated to a classic Sabrina Sullivan you are an asshole look.
“When I say enough going on , I don’t mean she’s crying into her pillow over how you were a total dick .
Please. Laney has enough self-respect to know when she deserves better than a guy who’ll break her heart because he’s terrified of having feelings for someone so awesome.
I mean, you give someone a little bit of time to recover when they break their leg skiing. Self-centered much, Theo?”
I’m out of my chair like a firecracker went off in my butt, scaring all of the kittens and Miss Doodles too. They go flying back toward my bedroom. “She what ?”
“She has enough self-respect?—”
“The broken leg part,” I force out through a clenched jaw.
“Oh, you didn’t know?” She crosses one leg over the other and leans back in her seat. “Sorry. I’m off gossip. If you didn’t know, it’s gossip. My lips are sealed.”
“ Sabrina .”
“If you were family, that would be one thing, but you’re just the guy without the balls to trust she’d listen to you explain why you like to make money baring the goods on the internet.
You don’t get the story about how she decided to skip work and go skiing and have fun and put her life ahead of her job, since you have to do the things to earn the inside story about people you want in your life instead of just saying you’re going to do the things . ”
Jesus. The café’s new owner doesn’t stand a chance if this is even a fraction of what she’s about to throw his way. “Is Laney okay?”
“I mean, as okay as a person with a broken leg can be.”
“Did she really break her leg, or are you fucking with me?”
“For your sake, I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask me that.”
“Where is she?”
Sabrina makes the I’m zipping my lips and throwing away the key motion.
Emma will—fuck.
Fuck .
Emma’s not answering her phone while she’s on her solo honeymoon. Hurting. And I can’t fix it.
Just like— fuck .
Like I’m hurting. Like Laney was hurting Saturday.
I fist my hair and stifle a groan. “I don’t want people judging her and treating her like shit for what I do, and they would.
They would . I’m a fucking porn star , Sabrina.
And she’s Laney fucking Kingston . She deserves better than everyone thinking about her sex life every time they look at her, and you fucking know they will . ”
“You’re not a porn star . You’re a naked inspirational speaker.
But if you want to call yourself a porn star, fine.
Put yourself in a box. Limit your possibilities with labels and assumptions.
Have all the doubts in the world about one of my very, very best friends on this whole entire planet, who would happily love you with everything she has to give if you’d pull your head out of your ass because she’s not her fucking parents and she deserves some fucking credit .
” She rises. “And now you’ve made me mad.
I take it back. I have no interest in letting you have any part of my hostile takeover bid to get Bean & Nugget back. ”
“You can’t do a hostile takeover on a private company.”
“Aww, look at Mr. Smartypants. And I thought all that time you spent playing on Reddit and tripling your money on that stock squeeze gamble was just for fun.”
Is she serious? Is she serious right now? I didn’t even tell Emma I was playing along in a little screw the hedge fund managers thing last year, and she hasn’t gotten hold of my bank records to do my taxes for me yet this year.
And that’s another thing I’ll be in trouble for.
Lack of correct estimated taxes.
I hate the real world sometimes, even if I love a lot of people in it. “ How the fuck ?—”
She waves a hand and flashes me a smile. “Oh, sorry. Forgot. I’m done gossiping. And now I’m mad that you tricked it out of me.”
“Where’s Laney?”
“Not tricking that out of me. That one, you have to earn.” She dusts her hands. “Cute cats. I like them. Let me know if you’re selling any. I feel like Bean & Nugget could use a feline upgrade. I mean, if my dog doesn’t eat them. Which he probably won’t. Probably.”
“ I’m not selling my fucking cats . They’re my cats. Finders keepers, and I will fucking destroy anyone who hurts them or comes between us.”
“Oof. Someone’s in a mood. Better leave you alone.”
“Where the fuck is Laney?”
“That’s too many fucks, Theo. I don’t like being fuck -ed at. You’re on your own. Bye, kitties. Don’t let him fuck at you too, okay?”
She strolls back through my kitchen, and a moment later, the back door clicks shut.
I lunge for my phone and pull up my Hey Neigh neighborhood app, which is the second-best source of information on Snaggletooth Creek gossip behind Sabrina.
Been avoiding it because—yep.
Theo Monroe is a porn star.
Here’s Theo’s GrippaPeen profile.
Is he really that big?
This isn’t appropriate for us to discuss. There are CHILDREN on here .
Whoa, he’s making like, OVER A MILLION DOLLARS A MONTH. You think he needs someone to run his appearances? Like an agent? I can learn to be an agent .
Saw three more reporters in town at Bean & Nugget this morning. Hoping for a Theo sighting. We have a CELEbrITY in our town! This is so exciting.
Do NOT, I repeat, do NOT give the reporters information about Theo. HE DIDN’T SHOW HIS FACE FOR A REASON. And he’s one of ours. Protect him at all costs.
Yeah, protect him. He’s OUR porn star. They don’t get any part of him.
I put on blinders, pretend Theo Monroe and GrippaPeen are about someone else, and I search for Laney’s name.
And there it is.
Sending hugs to Delaney Kingston. Poor thing. Did you all see her cast? I put together a meal train sign-up for anyone who wants to help her out .
She broke her leg.
She took a day off work, went skiing, and broke her leg .
Then told someone, who posted it for all of us to see, that if she’d known she was going to break a leg, she would’ve gone ahead and started on a double black diamond run so she’d have a better story than getting tangled up with a newbie on a warm-up run.
She was serious.
She wants to live . Have fun. Take chances.
And the first time she did it, she broke her leg .
Shit.
Shit .
She’s probably sitting home telling herself she’s not supposed to have fun. Not supposed to be adventurous. That this is a sign, and she needs to put herself back into the frumpity-dumpity fucking box labeled Perfect Little Princess Plainy-Laney .
I have to do something.
I have to.
Even if she doesn’t want me, I need to make sure she still wants to live .