Part XIV
The inventor of alarm clocks should be locked away. And he should be imprisoned with a special version of his invention that crescendos when a person tries to shut it off, until it pickles the human brain.
Alright, maybe that's a little harsh, but such were my thoughts. I wrinkled my face, feeling my comfort gradually ripped away. No more dream; no more being cradled in Duke's warm arms.
Duke hugged me, then dropped me in the crevice and slid out of bed, heading off to the bathroom, giving me a few more minutes to relax.
I opened one secret eye.
The wooden walls seemed to creak as I watched them. On the other side of the room, the bed was tidied up—Roy had already cleared out.
I lay there for a while with a hazy half-smile.
It didn't seem long till Duke was back from the shower, dripping beads of water everywhere, and shaking me. "Come on, boy. Victoria wants to get out of here by nine."
"It's vacation," I muttered.
"Wake up!" I felt the supple warmth and moisture as he slid his cock against my face.
"Unh," I grunted. I opened my mouth and stuck my tongue out. My eyes were still closed, so Duke couldn't see the light dance in them.
He dragged his cock flatly over my open lips.
"C'mon, Holden. No time for this. I would say to make it a quickie, but we both know how you like to savor it."
I smacked my lips around the shaft, flicking it with my tongue.
"C'mon, cocksucker. You need to shower."
I licked his balls and opened my eyes, smirking. "Alright, alright," I said. I grabbed my towel out of my bag and stumbled into the hallway. Duke raised his eyebrows, but as luck would have it, no one saw his hard-on for the moment it was in full view.
I set the water on hot and tried to burn the sleep away, but mostly just scalded my skin instead.
When I returned to the room, Duke was face-down on the bed. His towel was tucked between him and the sheets. If he was trying to keep the bed dry, he was failing.
I walked over and sat down beside him. Half his face was obscured by the pillow, but the other half bore an expression of contentment that made me think twice about waking him up. I ran my hand up his legs, feeling his diamond quadriceps flex in my palms.
The hills of his ass extended toward me, and I felt the gravity between us, drawing us toward each other. I kissed the crown of his ass cheek playfully, as I had the day before, only this time, I tasted the flecks of water from the shower that glinted on his skin.
Duke craned his neck and gripped the back of my head; I looked up into his eyes. They glimmered, blue as the ocean.
"Yesterday, I said you'd get to kiss me wherever you wanted," he said, raising an eyebrow.
"Duke..."
"You wanna kiss my ass, don't you?"
"Duke..."
"You wanna lap at my hole and get dirty with me. Admit it."
"I've thought about it," I murmured, blushing.
"Claim your prize, bitch."
He pulled me in, jamming my face between his ass cheeks. It was slippery from the shower water, and clean; but still, I could smell the musk. Soon, I was inundated by it, my face entrenched. I extended my lips—and entwined them with Duke's puckering hole.
"Holy fuck," Duke whispered, moaning. "I can't believe—you would actually do this."
My nose was getting in the way. I wasn't supposed to like the smell or taste of his ass, was I?
I tried to slide my nose out of the trench as I licked his hole over and over, but Duke clamped his ass down and tightened his grip on the back of my head. I whimpered and softened into him, letting him take control, letting myself fade back into the daze, into the dream of him.
Slowly, I dragged my tongue up and down--swirling it around—as my mind reeled.
I started to drool, and then, with increasing intensity, I sucked on his hole.
"Faggot."
I slurped on it, pulling it toward me, before puncturing the inner ring with my tongue.
Duke let out a low groan as his tunnel tightened around my tongue, clasping over and over. I ran my tongue in a circle, smacking my lips and sucking.
"Fuck yeah," Duke said, pushing his ass back into my face. "I've seen you stare at my ass so many times, but I never knew what it meant. No wonder you like Organic Fridays so much—you are fuckin' dirty."
I tapped his thigh—it was the closest I could come to begging for air.
He chuckled, gripping the back of my neck. Then, he relented, pulling me out of his ass and flipping onto his back. His monster cock jumped up, towering toward me.
He pulled my face toward it, but I resisted, looking up into his eyes. "Didn't you say we were in too big of a rush?"
"Change of plans. I need to get off, boy."
"Yes sir."
He slammed me down on his cock, ignoring my gagging as he humped my mouth and throat.
The ride back was quiet. Roy spent most of it looking out the window. He seemed to have passed his nerves on; this time, Duke was the one fidgeting. I leaned toward him and rested my head on his shoulder, content to relax my eyes, just for a little while...
"Wash your mouth."
That was what Duke said, not long after I got him off. It was replaying in my mind.
He leaned in and whispered, "Your breath smells like ass. There isn't enough cum in the world to wash that away."
Then I glared at him and he thumped my back.
I didn't want it to smell like ass. I wanted it to smell like Duke's breath.
What would Joey say, if he could see what I'd done the last couple of days?
Dirty was the word Duke used. I felt it. Dirty and loud and stroboscopic, even though, at surface level, I had blocked out the smells and noises and images around me. Restless.
Playing along was feeling more and more flimsy.
My thoughts fragmented, and I saw a treadmill inside a halo of light.
Bit by bit, the tread derailed, unspooling like ribbon the night before Christmas years ago, when in a frenzy, mom tried to wrap gift after gift until she had nothing left to give. She inadvertently pulled out a few hairs that night. Finally she rearranged it all, making the gifts into nice neat packages with bows and strings, a magic act of transformation that most around would never see, outdone only by her makeover before the big party.
He said he'd lasso the moon, but instead he lassoed the stars.
Bit by bit, the mill creaked, like the walls of the cabin at night, where Duke unwrapped me and I unraveled.
"Wake up, bro."
Roy shook me awake.
It took me a moment to gather myself. We were back at the dorms. My ass was sore, and my bones were tired. Duke dragged me out of the car, and I found my footing groggily. We grabbed our stuff before waving the girls goodbye.
"You guys in the mood to toke?" Roy asked.
"I've been pretty clean since I got here," Duke said. "Without your bad-ass around, I've been downright well-behaved. Ain't that right, Holden?"
"No."
"Well, we need to fix that, don't we?" Roy said, flicking his necklace. "You gonna join in, Holden?"
I sighed. "Honestly Roy—I'm beat. If it's the same to you, I'd just as soon take a nap."
I'd never done drugs in my life and had no desire to. If that weren't reason enough, my dad was coming to pick me up that night and I had enough to worry about without having to get the smoke out of my clothes.
My dad had told me once that if you spend enough time with someone, and you'll get tired of them. My mom wasn't fond of the quote. But she had book club, and he had Bridge night, so I figured no matter what they said, they liked a bit of time unbound.
I was more solitary than either of them, for the most part. I would get out of my shell when pushed, but I took refuge alone in my room when I had the chance. It was why I had asked for a single room in the first place.
"You napped on the way here," Roy said. "I know you did, because you started drooling on Duke's chest and it got kinda awkward."
"He drools on my chest when he is awake too," Duke said. "Maybe it's just his body's reaction to being close to me. Just because he is dreamin' about my monster cock doesn't necessarily mean he's asleep."
"Not right now, Duke," I said, in a soft monotone.
Duke looked me in the eye. "Go ahead and take another nap then. Roy and I got some catching up to do anyway."
We lugged our cases upstairs. I looked forward to the peace of crawling back into bed. My nose wrinkled at the smell of sickly smoke floating through the hole as I tried to drift away.
I couldn't fall asleep again. I just heard their voices and laughter bouncing, magnified in my skull.
"So how are things going with your girl? She told me she is trying to become a model now."
"I stopped seeing her."
Roy snorted. "She doesn't seem to know that. She keeps pining for you."
"Why don't you swoop in?"
The smell of smoke strengthened as they each took another hit.
"It's hotter when it's the three of us. I don't know. It becomes like—a competition, or something. It's exciting. Being alone with a girl gets kind of lame. It just feels half-way between the real hot sex and masturbating."
"You are a fuckin' perv, you know that?"
Roy pouted, then I heard his lips smack about three times. "Next time she brings it up, I'll tell her you two are done."
"If I ignore her, she'll get the hint eventually."
"You could just be forward with her."
"Sometimes it's better to let things sink in over time, like--the national deficit. Change too much at once and people lose their minds. Everything gets devalued and reason goes out the window. Generally, people think they want things—then, as they slowly get more informed, they realize they have no idea."
Roy snorted. "If you just did things right in the first place, you wouldn't need half-baked solutions."
"Hindsight is overrated. It's like in those time-travel movies when people talk about all their regrets, then go back in time, step on a butterfly, and end up somehow making Hitler win World War II or whatever. Sure, it seems like I should have been more thoughtful now, but maybe then I would have gotten a lot less pussy and everyone woulda missed out on this."
"You are horrible." Roy motor-boated his lips. "I'm just sayin'—sometimes it pays to plan things out."
"You think I didn't work to get Holden how he is now? When I first met him he was a lovey-dovey type, fagging out with boyfriend twenty-four seven over the phone. You see this hole?" Duke asked, sticking his middle finger through it. "I drilled right into his life and he only ever made the weakest show of fighting it. I can just stick my cock through it now and he'll slurp it like his life depends on it. The fact that I'd never reciprocate in a million years probably just makes his balls tingle more."
"Being a douchebag isn't a plan. It's just you being yourself. Does he even know we agreed to be roommates next year? My guess is that visions of me and you tag-teaming girls haven't been running through his head."
"He can be our bitch, then. I don't know. Does it matter? Things are good now. Why rock the boat? We can cross that bri--"
"I'm just saying. What happens if he wants to be your boyfriend?"
"God, shut up already. He ISN'T my BOYFRIEND; he's my BOYHOLE. He worships my body. Fag, slut, same difference, that's what's so great about `em."
"Holden's not like that."
"Tell me Roy, does he give good head when he's getting boned up the ass?"
"You engineered that scene."
"I made his dreams come true. Don't overthink it."
"That's never a problem with you, is it?"
"Is the weed not working for you or something? Geez, take another hit or two."
I sensed something dancing over my eyelids. I opened one eye slowly.
Laser pointer light jittered atop my body. Duke sent the light into my eye again and I shielded it.
"Boyhole, wake up."
I groaned.
"Get up, get up!"
"What is it?" I said, wrinkling one eyelid.
"Do you like Roy?"
I sighed.
"C'mon, answer the question."
"From what I know of him, he seems alright."
"If he dangled his cock through the hole, would you suck it?"
"Duke..."
"C'mon, Roy. Whip it out."
"No," Roy said. "Holden didn't even say he wanted to. I really just..." He smacked his lips. "I gotta go, man. It's been real."
I heard the door rattle as Roy walked out.
"Fuckin' bitch!" Duke said. The wall reverberated where he slapped it. "What was that? You should have been all over him."
"I don't want any threesomes anymore," I said softly.
"So what, you only want me?"
I sighed. "I'm not in the mood."
"Isn't your main mood endless lust?"
"Pretty sure that's you, Duke."
Duke snarled and I heard fabric rustling.
A moment later, his monster cock jut through the hole in the wall.
"Suck it, fag."
"Not now."
His cock slid slowly in and out as he humped the hole. "Suck it," he said. His voice cracked a little as his tone rolled, his voice jostling somewhere between pleading and commanding. "Shit," he said, laughing. "This weed's got me all fucked up and horny."
Just past the hole in the wall, I could see his fist squeeze; he grabbed his cock; he opened his hand half-way; he jammed his cock between the gap. "Fuckin' suck me, bitch. Mm. Fuckin' be my cocksucker."
My dick strained in my underwear; my breathing became messy; my mouth watered.
I clenched my eyes shut; I bit my lip; I turned back and forth.
I wouldn't touch him.
I had to control myself. I was angry, dammit.
"Cocksuckin' bitch," he growled.
"Duke..."
"Fuckin' get those lips on my pole."
"Duke..."
"Seriously?" He started to punctuate each word with a thrust through the wall. "What—the—fuck?"
My eyes were white-hot.
"Don't you like my big, slick cock?"
I shivered.
"Don't you like my jacked body? You get weak when you look me in the eye—you know you do."
I looked away.
"Don't you like it, Holden? My bubbles and fireflies and shit?"
I bit my lip and looked at the abused hole in the wall.
"SUCK—M—MANPIKE."
Precum leaked from his slit and dripped onto my face. It was a thin strand, stretching all the way from his cock to my mouth--for a moment, until he shifted and it broke. Slowly, it rolled into my mouth and I could taste the tangy sweetness.
"Fuckin' tease," he said, sniffing, as he gyrated again.
I rubbed myself absent-mindedly. The taste was entrancing—mind-numbing.
"Mmm. My Popsicle is getting all tender and sensitive and needy. It wants its hole. C'mon, faggot."
I lied there, frozen in place.
"Fuckin' seriously?"
Duke groaned, picking up the pace. I could hear his cock slide past his fist till his balls slapped against it.
"I'm getting off whether you help me or not."
He kept at it for a while, as I tried to distract myself with the spots on the ceiling.
He snarled, slamming against the hole in the wall. I didn't move an inch. I heard the familiar grunting; I saw his cock jump; something was pulsing through it; his slit opened.
The cum was thick.
It was sticky and didn't shoot far. Its motion was more of a free fall than an arc. Most of it landed on or around my face. Beads of cum ran down my cheeks in all directions, ensnaring me, enveloping me.
I felt myself cumming in my underwear. It made me mad that I was shooting—I thought I had done such a good job of controlling myself, but it wasn't to be. I opened my mouth, trying to catch my breath as light jumped in front of my eyes. Instead I caught a clump of cum as it fell into my mouth.
Duke backed away from the wall, groaning. He paced back and forth, then glared toward the gap.
"What?" I croaked.
His gaze moved to his pillow, which he gripped tightly.
"What?" I pushed again.
His nose wrinkled. "I didn't dump my girl so you could get `moody' and tease me, like I'm some fucking joke."
"It sounds like you didn't dump your girl at all."
"Is that what this is about—again? Are you for real?"
"You never want to have a real conversation...now you complain about being a joke. You reap what you sew, Duke."
"Fuck you! Why the hell do you get like this?"
"I love you, Duke," I whispered. I swallowed and turned away. "Why do you make me do this?"
"Do what?"
"Wonder—if you could love me."
"Not this shit again. You are so damn pushy and clingy, I don't know how I let you—" Duke's eyes flashed; I sensed he was torn; but then he carried on. "Don't you see?"
"No."
"I—love—sex. I love SWEET HOLES. And if I can't fuck yours, then it won't be hard to get somebody else's."
"You mean `your girl'?" I chuckled. "Isn't it funny? I always kind of thought she was made up."
"You are crazy, you know that?"
"I dunno. You never had much success with girls at parties. So tell me—am I a fall-back option?"
"I can get pussy when I want it."
"So—then...you do choose me?"
"Stop makin' everything so gay. DAMMIT. This used to be--fun. But now you just seem like any girl, diggin your claws into me, trying to make me something I'm not. I'm not a romantic guy, Holden. I'm-- Manpike." He paused. "I don't want some dumb-ass relationship."
"Are you afraid? Are you afraid that you could love me?"
"Such a drama queen! Have you been listening? Let's get real. Those queers at the warehouse were all over me. They all know how lucky they'd be to be in your shoes. They'd sink to their knees for me at the snap of my fingers. I could get a girl or two, then go to the club on the side, get a cocksucker or three on the downlow. The cold truth is that you are REPLACEABLE, and that I am not. There are fags that fantasize all their lives about finding a guy like me, and you are run-of-the-mill by comparison. You are LUCKY to be my hole."
"You think I'm just like everyone else?" I tried to catch my breath, clenching my fists. "You're a bastard. You split me up from my boyfriend. Joey LOVED me. Why would you do that? Why ruin the only good relationship I ever had, if you don't even see anything special in me?"
"Because it made me so fuckin' mad...that a guy like you, a respectable guy, would casually debase himself, and devolve into a little bitch for him, groveling on the phone for him without a care in the world—showing off what you are, like you were proud of it. And I wanted to show myself that some punk like Joey had nothin' on me. That I could have what he had if I wanted."
"But you don't," I said cradling myself. "You don't want what he had with me. So what's the fucking point? Why should I waste any more time with you? In the long run, I need to be loved. I need it—even more than I need you."
"What you need is to get laid."
"That's your solution for everything," I said, shaking my head.
"Yup." Duke whipped out his phone and scrolled around, jabbing it emphatically. He frowned at me as the outgoing call buzzed. "Hey—wanna come over for a movie tonight?...I was thinking, maybe, Guys and Dolls?...Great, I'll see you at nine." He clicked his phone and tossed it onto the bed.
"Roy?" I asked.
"You wish, bitch," he said. "Like you said, sex is the solution to everything. I'm not gay. I could have sex with a girl if I wanted, which I do. I don't choose you; I don't love you. You want clarity and guidelines? Well, here's a start: I don't fall in love; especially not with guys, and if this is the only way to convince you—then so be it."
"Duke..."
He drilled space for a couple of nails over the hole, silencing me, and he hung up his woven ski hat, so I couldn't see anything anymore.
My dad texted me that he would be working late and that I should just take the subway home the following morning. He tried to bribe me with the promise of waffles, but I wasn't in a forgiving mood.
I could have left already!
I didn't want to bother anyone last minute, but Erica probably wouldn't have minded. It would have been worth it to miss this.
Now I was here, lying silently in bed, as whoever Duke had called knocked on his door.
At first it was only murmurs.
"Wanna watch a movie?"
"Sure, ok."
I heard the door rattle and curiosity got the best of me. If I put my eye right up against the hole, I could see through the weave.
"What's with your hat hanging there?"
"You know...just liked the idea of a reminder of that awesome weekend."
Clarissa laughed. "It's a bit odd." She flicked it, making the bottom swing back and forth, and I ducked down in case it were to fall—but it didn't. Slowly, I inflated back up to spy on them again, mesmerized, my mind prickling.
Duke fiddled with the television, and Clarissa lounged out on his bed, wearing a t-shirt that didn't even cover her belly button, which turned out to be pierced. It was completely inappropriate for the weather.
When Duke turned, he sneered at me. I don't think he could see me; there was the weave in the way; plus, my room was dark and quiet. Yet, he seemed to know that I would want to see it for myself—at first.
As the movie started, Duke pulled on Clarissa's shirt. She rolled her eyes and took it off, as he slid out of his. I couldn't tell if he was flexing, or a little nervous, or just that defined—but the sheen of his hardened abdominals glimmered in the purple light of the streetlamp, sidling amongst the shadows cast by his pectorals.
"Damn," Clarissa said, running her hand through them.
He leaned toward her and planted a soft kiss on her neck, causing her to giggle.
"Aren't we gonna watch the movie?" she asked.
"We can if you want," he grumbled. He held her against him, and they snuggled into each other.
Something cool ran down my cheek. I traced it with my thumb back to the corner of my eye, shaking my head.
His hands roamed around her body. One eventually settled on the nape of her neck, while the other flicked at her belly button ring.
"Do you like it?" she asked. "I didn't tell Victoria about it yet. I think she'd have a fit."
Duke lay her down, then leaned in toward her navel with his tongue outstretched. He grazed the ring with his tongue, then plunged into her belly button.
I guess it was getting wet after all.
"Duke!" she said in a frantic whisper. She started to laugh, then to struggle slightly, but he held her down.
"Can I?" he asked, looking down at her shorts then up into her eyes.
Her mouth was half-open, as she tried to catch her breath. She nodded.
He unbuttoned her jean cut-offs and pulled them down, along with the pink lace panties. Then he moved his head down.
I felt sick.
And trapped.
And mad.
He was doing it on purpose, to drive me away. To keep me out of love with him. But it was too late. I wasn't out of love with him at all. I was just being tortured...
I covered my ears, closed my eyes, and buried myself in my pillow.
Hadn't he already cum enough? Jesus.
Maybe I could interrupt them. Maybe I could drive her away. I'd rather have Duke mad at me, and dealing with me, then dealing with her.
"Oof—Duke—wait!"
Duke growled, and I looked through the hole again in spite of myself. Duke grimaced and lugged his pole off of her.
"What is it, Clary?" Duke asked.
"Permission to be blunt?"
"Sure."
"You have a mutant psycho elephant cock and I need some time to adjust..."
Duke groaned. He humped at her midsection, pushing her belly-button ring around with his junk. "Can I just—start with your tits then? If we are just bein' blunt?"
She bit her lip and nodded. His thick, vein-linked monster marched up her body, dragging his balls with it like a prisoner towing iron. Her navel ring clinked as he moved over it.
Duke spread out her breasts with his fists and pushed his cock through the gap.
"Fuck," he groaned. He closed his eyes and tilted his head back, paddling on her breasts with his palms.
"That hurts a little, Duke," Clarissa whispered.
"Sorry," he said. "I like to get a little rough."
He wouldn't look her in the eye as he felt out the curves of her breasts. He humped the space in-between, muttering. "Yeah, that's good. Fuck yeah."
Clarissa moved her own breasts, trying to stimulate him further. She looked a little confused.
He leaned back, his eyes clenched shut, biting his lip as he humped at her breasts, flexing.
"Fuck yeah, holdem."
"What?"
"I said, `hold em'. Yeah—grip my jewels, just like that."
She tentatively wrapped one hand around his balls, then the other around the shaft.
"Kiss it."
She leaned in and planted a kiss on the head. A bit of precum leaked out and bridged the gap between them in a hanging arc. Then it snapped away from her lip, forming a bead on the tip.
"You wanna try suckin' it?"
Clarissa leaned in, smacking her lips around the head of his cock, and slurped a slab of it inside. Then, promptly, she went into a coughing fit. "Sorry," she said. "I'm usually pretty good at this."
"It's fine," Duke said, humping at her breasts again. He still seemed distracted. "You are doing great; I'm getting close. Where do you want it?"
"Cum on my face, Duke."
"Okay."
He spent the next few minutes building up into a rage. I could sense the heat; a new sheen of sweat glimmered on his body, highlighting his musculature in the dim light.
Clarissa lapped at the head of his cock.
I imagined pulling the fire alarm.
"Fuckinggae," Duke said, his eyes gripped shut.
"What?" she asked, startled.
He shot a bolt of cum right into her forehead. The next streak was thicker, painting her left cheek, then her right. Her mouth was half-open; she looked a little surprised, the next wave jumped into her mouth, then over her nose.
She swallowed and coughed again. "What was that you said?" she asked.
"Fuckin' aye."
"Okay," she said, her eyebrow still up, flecked with streaks of cum.
They cleaned up and, after a tepid exchange of pleasantries, Clarissa left.
I didn't breathe a word.
The next morning, the sun was bright on the horizon, its pale rays licking my skin as I rushed around. In almost no time at all, I made sure I was ready to leave the dorm behind for the holidays. I didn't spy on Duke through the hole in the wall again. Other than him, the rest of the residents of our hallway were already gone.
Usually I could get through one big fight with someone—but not two. Had anything changed? I tried to keep the thought away as I finished packing up my things. I needed to get into the holiday spirit, after all.
The subway ride was a welcome ritual. The ghostly noise of the wheels whistling echoed underground, as I caught glimpses of the tunnel up ahead. It looked lighter today, and it made me smile somehow, if only a little.
Erica honked as I walked into the sun, and I hopped into her jeep as quick as I could.
"What took you so long?"
"I'm on time."
"You are three days late as far as I'm concerned. Ditching me for some romantic get-aways with your new boyfriend."
"It wasn't romantic and he isn't my boyfriend."
"Another fight?"
Grief prickled at me, crawling up my throat like bile, but I forced it down.
I tried to put on my face, as my mother would.
"God," I said. "It's fine though. Let's whip out the ice cream and hate on all the boys in the world; I'm hungry. Just us bachelorettes."
"Speak for yourself," Erica said.
I stole a glance at her. "You mean to say?"
"Yep. I finally got a man. So guess what? You owe me about a billion third-wheel dates! No better way to get over the fact that you are alone in the world than by accompanying me and Matt wherever we go. You and Joey used to make out at Lookout Point, don't you remember? While I did Cat's Cradle in the back of the van?"
"Memories are the worst," I said, cracking a smile.
"Whatever; I'm getting a raspberry limeade."
She grabbed my wrist and bit her lip. "Joking aside, I can send Matt away at some point, for a while. If you need some time to mope."
"That wouldn't be fair to anyone," I said, shaking my head.
"What happened, anyway?"
"I'm—not so sure I can explain," I said. But I did rest my head on her shoulder for the rest of the drive.
We met Matt at Sonic a few minutes later. He had scraggly black hair, teal, thick rimmed glasses, and a wisecracker's half-smile.
"Holden! I've heard so much about you," he said, his marine eyes twinkling. They were a bit like Duke's—or was he just on my mind still?
"Matt," I said, reaching out my hand. "I just learned you existed."
"Yeah, yeah, shocker. She hasn't decided if I'm worth bragging about yet."
Erica bumped him in the arm. It looked gentle, but he cringed. "Geez, woman. Does she do that to you, too, Holden? It's the worst when we play video games. Whenever I win, I duck reflexively now, lest she let the controller fly."
"Psh," Erica said.
"Air hockey is the nastiest," I said, nodding. Those little mallet guys—if she isn't pounding the puck with `em, it might be my ribs—or back—or face."
"I shoulda known you two would gang up on me," Erica said, rolling her eyes. "Betrayed by my favorite men..."
"That might be the first time she admitted she liked me," Matt said softly.
My phone buzzed.
"What is it?" Erica asked.
<Wanna grab coffee some time? We need to chat.>
"Duke?" Erica asked, trying to read my face. "Joey?"
I shook my head for both.
"There are more?"
"His name is Roy," I said, my eyebrows wrinkling. "I gave him my number at the ski slopes. Didn't really expect to hear from him."
My phone buzzed again.
Erica peered over my shoulder. "How romantic," she cooed.
"Beats sitting around holding the candle for you two," I said. "No offense Matt."
"Well, you can still hold the candle for us tonight," Erica said. "In fact—I think I still have Cat's Cradle tucked into the backseat."
I groaned; Erica slurped on her iced drink; Matt gave me a quizzical glance.
Then, I pushed the big red button to place another order—I'd need a Coney to get through tonight; of that I was sure.
--- Always glad to hear from readers, even if I can be a bit shaky taking my time sending messages back. :)
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