As Alex and his dad chat about medical grade Mary Jane, I continue to chop fruit. Most of it ends up in Robbie’s mouth rather than on the platter. I’d say if the point is to increase appetite, it’s working well.
Until now I’ve been so focused on being polite I’ve failed to take in the decor of the house. It looks like a bohemian gypsy got into a fight with a southern belle, and they exploded all over the place. Everything is either überfrilly or a throwback to the seventies. It’s hard to process it all. I wonder how a laid-back man like Robbie can handle so much visual over-stimulation. Maybe he likes tripping out to it.
As I sip my mimosa and ponder this, Alex’s sister comes into the room. I nearly choke as Buck comes in behind her. Shit is about to go down, rumble style.
Alex has his back to them. I do the most logical thing in the world. I grab his hand, pulling him toward me. My intention is to molest him. However, this plan has holes—the most important being the presence of his parents. So I stand there, staring up at him as I stroke his thumb with my fingers. Alex gives me a funny look.
“Alex! You’re here!” Sunny’s voice distracts him from my distraction.
He turns around. I assume he’s not very happy based on the way he squeezes my hand since I can no longer see his face.
“What the hell?” He scares his mother half to death—and me, too with his thunderous shouting.
“Alex! Use your inside voice,” Daisy says.
“Alex,” I say gently as his grip on my hand tightens. If he keeps going he’s going to break it. I need my hand, not just for my job but for other important tasks, such as jilling off.
Unfortunately his focus is not on the hand he’s crushing, It’s on Buck standing beside his sister and smiling his ass off. At least he’s not touching her.
“Hey, man. How’s it goin’?” Buck asks like it’s no big deal he’s here.
I pull on Alex’s sleeve with my free hand.
“What are you doing here?” he asks calmly.
I’m losing the feeling in my fingers. I lean in and bite Alex’s arm.
“Ow!”
It works. He lets go of my hand.
His head swings around. Oh man, is he ever pissed. As badass as he is on the ice, and as dominating and frisky as he can be in bed, he doesn’t intimidate me. Plus, his family is here, and so is Buck, so I’ll be fine.
He rubs his arm. “Why’d you bite me?”
“You were crushing my hand and words weren’t working.”
He inspects my hand with his lips. “Shit, baby, I’m sorry.
“Alex, watch your language.”
“Sorry, Mom.” Alex then glares at his sister and motions to Buck. “Care to explain this?”
Sunny looks Buck up and down. “Explain what?”
“Why are you being so rude?” Daisy asks. No one pays any attention to her.
Sunny flips her hair over her shoulder. She’s wearing a rainbow colored tie-dyed shirt and a flowy, ankle-length skirt. She’s not Buck’s type at all. He goes for the skanky, nearly naked sure-things. Yet here he is with Sunny, who seems like neither.
Alex abandons questioning his sister—she does seem genuinely confused—and moves onto Buck. “Who invited you?”
“I invited him,” Sunny replies.
“Why?” Alex’s fists clench at his sides.
“Um, because I like him?” Her body language tells me things her words don’t. She wraps a tendril of hair around her finger, and her eyes drop to her feet. Buck has snared her with his yeti magic.
“You like him?” Alex’s voice rises with his eyebrows. “He’s a dirtbag!”
Part of me wants to defend Buck; he’s a nice guy under all the whoriness. But if Sunny was my sister, I would castrate Buck before he could get his dick into her. Sadly, with the way Sunny gazes at Buck and Buck smiles back at her, it appears this may have already happened. Alex could be too late to save his sister. I should offer to take her to the walk-in clinic later today.
Sunny props her fist on her hip. “Look who’s calling the kettle a pot!”
She and Buck may be on a level playing field intellectually with the way she completely butchered that saying.
Apparently Daisy gets what Sunny is trying to say. She defends Alex’s nonexistent virtue. “Don’t you say things like that about your brother!”
Either she’s truly in complete denial or she’s too blinded by her maternal love to see the truth. Alex may not be a player, but he can be a dirty, dirty boy.
I look around the room; the various expressions are hilarious. Sunny is enraged, Daisy looks like she might cry, Buck is staring at Sunny’s chest—so he has no idea what’s happening—and Robbie has pulled the fruit tray closer. He’s shoveling food into his mouth and peeking up on occasion to check if anyone notices. I like him.
Sunny props a fist on her hip. “I saw the paper this morning. Did you?”
“What paper?” Alex asks.
“The tabloids. There’s a whole article on what happened in the locker room yesterday.”
“Wait, what?” Buck is suddenly alert. As are Alex and I.