Chapter 19
Chapter nineteen
Duncan
"I'm a great friend." With benefits.
I pick up the package from Lake Belmont that's waiting at the front desk of my building on my way out to Crosby's the next afternoon.
My phone is fully charged and already streaming Rhys’s concert outside of Nashville. And, I’ve packed an Aux cord so I can hook up my phone to Felix’s TV later. I’m sure everyone at the party will appreciate a little patriotic country music today.
I hop in the rideshare and head to Crosby's. When I get there he's mainlining Sour Patch Kids and pacing his kitchen.
"Dude, chill."
"Chill?" He says in a tone that shows exactly how not-chill he's going to be about this.
"Fine, I'll go first." I unbutton my short sleeved linen shirt and leave it hanging open while I untangle the cords for the microphone. "Technically I don't need to tape it to my chest but I'll do it for you out of solidarity."
"Wow, what a good friend." Crosby deadpans and I know when the sarcasm returns he's inching away from the edge of pure panic. Mission accomplished.
"I'm a great friend." With benefits. Except, it’s been six weeks since I saw Rhys and I don’t know when I’ll see him again. My cock is getting tired of my fist.
I rip a piece of bandage tape off and secure the microphone before turning it on and sliding the battery pack into my pocket. Then I fit the ear piece in and look at Crosby. "Ta Da!"
He leans in and inspects my ear. “It's not completely hidden, but it's not super obvious either." He admits and so I reach forward and start to unbutton his linen shirt.
"I've got it, thanks." He swats my hand away.
"Suit yourself." I shrug and go to pull a tray of cut fruit out of his fridge. I munch on a couple chunks of watermelon, sneak a small piece to Stella, and return it to the fridge while Crosby finishes getting the ear piece in place.
"This is never going to work." He grumbles.
So pessimistic.
"I'll feed you lines. It'll be just like the movies.
" I encourage him. Normally Crosby is pretty level headed and good in a pinch, it's why I love being his linemate on the ice.
I know he's got my back just like he knows I have his. This bumbling version is sort of new. He usually shuts down if he’s stressed.
"When has that ever worked?" Crosby asks as he finishes buttoning his shirt.
"Never, but that doesn't mean it won't work for you!" I give him an enthusiastic clap to the chest with both hands and my ear is filled with a muffled thump. I wince. "Forgot about the mic."
He rolls his eyes and checks the time. I can see worry color his features. He is really down bad for this girl and I hate seeing him struggling.
"I'm gonna pick her up, and then meet you at the party." He repeats the plan to me. But instead of giving him shit, like I do to Bryson who keeps telling us about his proposal plans, I listen to Crosby and encourage him.
"Yep! And then I'll make you so suave she will be falling to her knees."
Mmm, knees.
Rhys and I are about the same height which made jerking him off from behind as natural as stroking my own cock. And, when we eventually get on our knees for each other I imagine it will be a good fit.
Laila is nearly a foot shorter than Crosby.
"What?" He asks.
My brain is too busy trying to work out the angles to tell me I shouldn’t say this out loud. "Well, she's pretty short, so if she's on her knees can she even reach your–"
"You fuck!" He roars and smacks the back of my head. I reach up and start rubbing it. "Don't picture her on her knees. Don't picture her at all!"
"10-4 Roger." I say and I do feel bad. I didn't mean to picture her giving him head, and actually, I didn't picture it, I pictured Rhys and I giving each other head but I'm not supposed to tell anyone about that so I can't really defend myself.
Crosby pushes me out the door and I call up another rideshare to take me to Felix's.
***
"This is the perfect wet test." Emmett says as I stand at the side of the back patio waiting for Crosby to arrive. E.T. is running me through the final test for best boxer briefs.
How comfortable they are if you suddenly find yourself wet.
I tried to argue that this doesn’t happen but then I remembered getting splashed by Rhys's car in Scotland, and us hosing off after we got all muddy trying to move Granny's car.
E.T. has the first pair of boxers on under his swim trunks. Felix set up a slip-n-slide for us, well probably for the kids coming to the party but let's be honest, we're commandeering it.
"What are the criteria for the test?" I ask.
"First, temperature regulation, do they stay cold for an extended period of time or do they return to ambient temperature." E.T. says as he looks at the spreadsheet on his phone. "Then the second test is staying power, do the legs stay in place or do they ride up."
"That seems important."
"I'm trying not to weigh the criteria but yeah, it is."
"What else?"
"Dry time."
"Obviously."
"And junk accentuation."
"I'm listening."
"Basically determining which pair makes your ridge look bigger when wet."
"I take it back, that's the most important factor."
He nods and then turns to the gate, "Oh, Crosby and Laila are here."
"Go time." I whisper to myself. I have never felt more ready for a task off the ice than what is ahead of me right now. I might not be the guy who is going to woo a woman but I sure as hell know how.
I pick up the battery pack and switch it on. "Put your hand on the small of her back and ask if she wants something to drink." I whisper.
I watch Crosby's eyes dance around until they land on me and then I can’t look away as he almost knocks his date over by basically sheep dogging his golden retriever into her knees.
She tells him she's going to get a drink and points to the side of the yard where our friend Caroline is standing. I turn back and look at Crosby who looks like a sad puppy.
"Smooth." I say into the mic as I roll my eyes. But he turns to me and glares. "What?"
He rips the ear piece out and that's when I realize I yelled "what" across the party at full volume.
My bad.
"Dude." He says coming to a stop in front of me and rubbing his ear.
"Sorry, you were staring daggers at me and I forgot."
"Okay, well what am I going to do now? She's all the way over there." He gestures with limp arms to the bar and I take a minute to admire the red, white, and blue patchwork table cloth hanging there.
Felix really did a nice job with the decor for this party. Not that I expect anything less.
I bring myself back to Crosby, my poor, helpless friend. "I don't know, maybe go over and talk to her." I suggest.
"Won't that be clingy? Shouldn't I be making her come to me?"
"We'll worry about clingy later. Right now we need you to interact with her so she falls for you."
"Okay, so what's my opening line?"
I pause to think about it. I snap my fingers. "Ask her what drink she got, if she likes it, just make conversation, it's that simple."
I think about how easy conversation is with Rhys. It flowed between teasing and real connection smoothly. His quiet openness had me admitting things I barely let myself think about.
"If it's that simple, why do I have an ear piece and microphone?" Crosby challenges.
"Because you have a way of complicating easy things." I look my friend up and down. "Also, I didn't say it before, but I'm proud of you for not wearing your cargo shorts and Dog Dad belt."
He reaches for his waist. "Shit, I must have left it in the car."
He turns but I grab his shoulder. "Leave it."
Stella sits at attention between us and I see a bit of a chewed up blue cocktail napkin at her feet. Best not to say anything and let Crosby freak out about why she has blue streaks in her poop later.
I place my other hand on his shoulder and level him with a friendly but serious stare. "You've got this. You're a catch. And you already knocked her up so all you gotta do now is make her fall in love with you too."
He nods as he puts his ear piece back in. I think my pep talk is sinking in but it never hurts to punctuate it with a chest clap.
Except we both wince when a muffled boom threatens the integrity of our ear drums.
Again.
"Shit, I keep forgetting about that thing. Go get her!" I reach up to clap his chest again but catch myself this time.
Instead I clap my hands loudly and give him a little shove in Laila's direction and feel like a dad sending his kid off to college or something.
I'm a really good friend.
Selfless.
Thoughtful.
I glance away from Crosby for a minute and watch E.T. fly down the slip-n-slide. A few of the other guys pelt him with water balloons as he goes. He glides to a stop, stands up, and immediately pulls out the waistband to look down the front of his swim trunks.
Felix walks over and gets us on board for a USA vs. Canada relay race. Bryson is in immediately and says something about how he wishes he had worn Jo's Team USA jersey to the party and Emmett starts asking everyone what underwear they're wearing.
Felix starts an off-key rendition of "Oh Canada" and Bryson is fist pumping to his own chant of U-S-A.
Stella joins in the fun and starts howling next to me as Emmett comes over.
"I'm not sure if the slip-in-slide will get me wet enough for this experiment." He says as he looks into the front of his shorts again.
"Well, what gets you wet?" I ask as I look around the yard while pulling the microphone pack from my pocket to get ready for my turn.
In my ear I hear Caroline go "Umm, excuse you?" loudly. I look up in time to catch her toss back her drink after mumbling something about week fourteen.
Then I hear Crosby ask. "Wait, what did I say?"
Laila looks up at Crosby and says. "You, umm, asked what gets me wet."
I roll my lips between my teeth because I think this was my fault.
"Goddamnit." Crosby mutters and I watch as he marches across the yard in my direction.
"You fart nugget." He says as he sticks a finger in my face.
"Good one," Emmett mutters.
"Listen, it was an accident." I toss my hands up in a don’t shoot post. "E.T. was talking about getting the boxers wet for the experiment and you were doing so good I didn't think you were listening to me anymore. You didn't need me."
"Well I'm definitely not going to use this anymore." He reaches into his pocket and turns off the battery pack and then rips the microphone off his chest, pulls out the ear piece, and hands them all to me.
"That was badass." I say, impressed with how he could just rip the tape off his chest like that. Like freaking Superman. My hairy chest requires a dollop of coconut oil to get adhesives off. Not that I put tape on my chest often, but still, I've learned a thing of two in my time.
"You joining Team USA for the slip-n-slide?" Emmett asks as Crosby storms away.
"Absolutely I am."
E.T. plugs what underwear we all have on into his spreadsheet and then, the slip-n-slide relay begins.
***
"I should have joined the Canada team." I grumble, sore loser as always.
"But you're not Canadian." Emmett points out.
"Yeah but they had the other worldly team members on their side, and I'm practically Scottish."
"You are Scottish but you grew up outside of Boston."
"Which is basically in Canada."
"Hardly." Emmett doesn't let me have this one.
Which, fair. Annoying, but fair.
"So, which boxers won?"
"I'm still waiting for the dry time results."
"But which one made limp dicks look bigger?"
"The Pouch Pair."
"Heck yes, okay then I'll order a few packs now."
I pull out my phone to place the order but I have a text from Remember, You Started This.
I chuckle and kill my phone screen so Emmett doesn't start asking questions.
"I'm gonna run to the bathroom."
"Use the upstairs one." Emmett says.
"Of course, like I could forget."
E.T. shudders but goes back to logging data for the experiment.
Once inside I head upstairs and lock the bathroom door behind me.
I should be embarrassed by the smile on my face but I can’t help it. I’m at a backyard party with my best friends, and my fuck-buddy texted me.
Life is good.