Chapter 10 #2
Finding her name in my contacts, I quickly press the call button, glancing back at the tent.
“What’s going on, hooker?”
“Did Beckett text you?”
“Beckett? No. Why?”
“Because, as always, your timing is perfect.”
“What happened? Are your parents asking about me? Miss me?”
“Callum and the guys showed up,” I blurt.
“Shut the front door!”
“Yes, and they’re sitting at the table with my date and me.”
She bursts out laughing. Fits of laughter. Laughter so loud and hard that she’ll likely have a hernia when she’s done. “You’re shitting me.”
“I wish.”
“Shut the fuck up. Your date?”
“Mother dearest set me up. A lawyer.”
“Fancy. What kind?”
“Focus Lizzy! The guys are here! Here, here! With my family here!”
“How do they look?”
“Hot as sin.”
“No. Obviously that. I mean with Winston.”
“Oh.” I peek back at the tent, and they seem to be talking about something. “Well, he’s still alive, so that’s a good sign.” I roll my eyes. “It’s especially fun when Winston grabs my hand in front of them.”
“Shut the fuck up! To be a fly on that wall. How long do you have to stay?”
“Apparently, the whole freaking afternoon.”
“Any place you could sneak away for a quick fivesome with the boys?”
I choke out a laugh. “We’re at a church and you want me to sneak away with four men and have sexy time?”
“What better place to cry out ‘Oh God’ than on the cock of a man at church? Or four dicky dicks in your case.”
“You’re going to hell.”
“Most likely.”
“Remind me why you couldn’t come?”
“Personal question, Ev. And I come. Quite regularly, though probably not as much as you.”
“Lizzy!”
“I can see we have a serious, flustered Everlee right now. Not a jokey joke, Everlee. I couldn’t come because of a holiday called Easter.”
“Right. You’re going to your dad's.”
“I’m so excited,” she says deadpan.
“You should totally ditch and come hang out with your BFF.”
“I’d love to see you.”
“Oh, not me. I was talking about my brother. What the hell? Trying to tag team me?”
“I thought that’s what you liked,” she snipes back, then chuckles. “We’ve been through this before. You’re my hoe and I have to look out for your pussy.”
“Jesus.” I immediately cringe, saying the name here. I, too, am going to hell. At this point, via the bullet train.
I know I’m going to hell because even thinking of the words bullet train conjures up dildos, dicks, and anal plugs… not an actual fucking train.
She bursts out laughing. “Gotta go, hooker. Stay safe and use protection. Or don’t and let one of those handsome four knock you up. Can’t go wrong with any of them.”
“Lizzy.”
“What? Kidding… kind of.”
“Bye.”
“Bye, boo.”
When I get back to the table, Beckett is putting his phone back in his lap, chuckling. Every bone in my body tells me it’s Lizzy.
Looking over his shoulder, I see a picture before his phone flicks off. “What was that?” I whisper. I don’t miss the fact that Callum tenses as I lean over Beckett. He’s looking at Winston, but his focus is on me.
Beckett smiles. “Lizzy told me to take a picture of your table.”
I shake my head, trying to snatch his phone, but he laughs, holding it out of my reach.
“Beckett. Will you stop? You’re being immature.”
His face is inches from mine. “Immature? You’re the one acting funny here. What did you say to Lizzy that made her want me to take a picture? Did you tell her about all the insanely hot men at your table?”
Callum’s lips pull up slightly, and his shoulders relax. Had he not already fucked me in every hole I had, I’d be embarrassed. “Beckett. I just want to see the picture.”
His eyes narrow.
“I won’t take your phone.” I put my hands behind my back.
His phone dings with another message from Lizzy.
Lizzy: Any of those will do.
“What does she mean?”
“Those deliciously desirable men you’re sitting with.”
“What about them?”
“She said any of them will do for you.”
I roll my eyes and sit down.
“Everything okay?” Winston asks.
“Yes. My brother is being a jerk,” I say, mostly for the guys. I can’t have them thinking I’m a hussy for any other man but them.
The guys all look over my shoulder at Beckett. This is so weird to have everyone in the same place, but separate.
Everyone finishes speaking at the microphone, and my dad gets on stage and directs the crowd to some food. I don’t stand immediately, hoping Winston will, so I can have some time with the guys to smooth things over, but no one moves.
I should play the lottery because all of my bad luck is pouring out in droves here, so there can’t be any left.
After one of the front tables sits back down, I stand, followed by everyone else. Fuck. Is this some sort of thing? Does Winston feel threatened by the guys? We aren’t even on an actual date. Does he feel like he’s protecting me or something?
I walk over to the tables with the food and pick a side and, of course, Winston follows right on my heels. Callum and Emmett are across from me, while Knox and Jax are behind Winston. They tower over him. He’s not a short man, but they are tall and just command any space they’re in.
“Did you boys play football?” Winston laughs awkwardly.
“No,” they respond simply.
I hand the tongs for the fruit salad to Callum, whose fingers brush against mine. My stomach clenches as wave after wave courses through my body. I just want to run away, to escape, and have them all. I missed them with every fiber of my being.
“Food looks good,” Winston chimes, and I can’t help but look at Emmett. “Did your mom make the potato salad?”
“I don’t know.”
“She usually makes it for most of our church functions.”
Emmett winks at me, bringing a smile to my face.
We continue down the table, choosing between hotdogs, hamburgers, pasta salads, and chips. I grab one of the already poured drinks at the end of the buffet line and head back to the table.
Callum gets there just before me.
“Winston seems… cheery,” Callum teases.
“Shut up.” I glare at him playfully.
“He could give you a pleasant life,” his tone drops.
I gaze at him, trying to decipher whether he's still teasing me.
“I don’t want nice. I want dirty and sexy. I want you all.”
“We can definitely do that.” He brushes a piece of hair behind my ear, letting his fingers glide down my neck.
“Hey. Getting handsy with my date there?” Winston chuckles with an awkwardly passive-aggressive tone, walking up.
“He was helping me. I didn’t want to eat my hair,” I say, holding up my hotdog.
“Such a gentleman. It shouldn’t surprise me coming from Mary Mae’s house.” He takes a quick bite, then looks back up. “Say. Are all of you still close? You know, after leaving Mary Mae’s?”
They look at each other and nod, and I can’t help but chuckle. I try to hide it with my hotdog, but Knox calls me out.
“Something funny, Everlee?”
It’s so weird to hear him use my name since I’m fairly certain he’s only ever called me Ali.
“Nothing at all.” I glare at him and see him smile as he takes a bite of food. Callum’s leg brushes against mine under the table, and I don’t move. I enjoy feeling him there. It’s all I can get right now, so I’ll take it.
My eyes catch Knox’s, so I slowly take the hotdog in my mouth, trying to be as covertly seductive as possible.
Knox’s eyes stare at my mouth around the hotdog, lips parted.
When I have him where I want him, I bite down.
Knox’s knee hits the underside of the table, and I smile in evil satisfaction.
This time I’m able to hide it with my napkin.
“Everything okay, Knox?” Emmett asks.
Knox watches me for a second, then nods.
“This hotdog is so good,” I say, moaning just a little at the end. The guy's eyes slowly turn to me.
“I’m more of a hamburger guy myself. Love the layers, the patties, the juice.” Jax holds up his hamburger. “Plus, this is a really nice bun. Is it toasted?”
Is hamburger a codeword for pussy, or am I just that horny?
“I’ve never had a toasted bun with a hamburger before,” I say awkwardly, now completely botching any sexy talk as I watch him take another bite.
If I’m keeping track, I just said I’ve never had anal with a woman before.
While true, it’s not what I was trying to say.
Or the other, very real, possibility is that I’m making up all the code words, and he was really just talking about a bun.
“Maybe I should try a toasted bun with my hotdog?”
What the fuck am I doing? Seriously. What the fuck? Toast my hotdog bun?
“Get this woman another hotdog!” Winston yells, thumbing over his shoulder, laughing and completely missing all the innuendos that are flying around. Or maybe I am.
The rest of lunch passes in a similar fashion.
Little comments or questions being asked that elicit some sort of double-meaning response.
We feed off each other. All of us are eager to be anywhere else but here, and we do a poor job of hiding it.
We can’t help but tease or flirt, and poor Winston is sitting here watching it.
He tries to take part a few times, but there’s a whole other level to the conversation he isn’t even aware of.
After lunch, my mother jumps on the microphone and asks all the guys to help get the tables off the dance floor while the ladies wrap up all the leftover food.
A sudden touch on my shoulder jolts me, and I instinctively spin around, assuming it's one of my guys, only to discover it's Beckett. “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?” I spit out quickly.
“Well, shit. I was just trying to have a simple conversation, but the guilt laced in your question now has me curious.”
“Guilt? What would I have to feel guilty for?”
He thinks about it for a minute. “Maybe that you haven’t been able to stop looking at those men at your table and they can’t stop looking at you. Poor Winston.”
“No. I’m not looking at them a lot. We were all having a conversation with everyone, including Winston.”