“You know, I’ve never seen someone’s blood boil in real life. You always hear the idiom, but you never actually see it.” Lia takes a bite of her burrito as we sit outside Alberto’s, one of our favorite places to go when we’re downtown. “But wow, we witnessed The Beave’s blood rippling through her ghastly veins today. It was something else.”
“If looks could kill, we’d both be dead.”
“Dead on the spot. Did you catch the look the florist gave us? I’m pretty sure she wanted to shrivel up and disappear.”
“I think that’s how everyone feels when The Beave is around.”
Lia takes a sip from the large lemonade we decided to share. “Thanks for sticking up for me. I appreciate it.”
“You don’t need to say thank you. That’s what a Pickle of Honor does.”
Lia chuckles but then grows quiet. “Do you think it’s stupid to do the knitted flower thing?”
I shake my head. “Makes me like you that much more.” Her eyes lift to mine. “I think it’s really sweet, and if I were in your shoes, I would want to do the same thing. This is an important day in a person’s life, and it’s only right to honor those who can’t be there. I think your mom would love it if you walked down the aisle with something you made together.”
“Agreed.” She sets her burrito down. “I keep thinking about the walk down the aisle and how my dad would have held me tightly, told me how much he loves me, how proud he is, and how he always dreamed of that day. The day he could give me away. And now . . . now I won’t have that. I’ll have to make the walk alone, and that’s daunting.”
“I’ll walk you down the aisle,” I say. “You won’t be alone. You’ll have me.”
“The Beave would never go for that, as you’re supposed to go ahead of me since you’re the Pickle of Honor.”
“By the way, if Pickle of Honor isn’t on the programs, I’m going to rage.” She smirks. “But I don’t care what The Beave wants. I want you to be happy, to feel like you’re surrounded by the people who love you, and if that means I’m double downing on responsibilities, then who fucking cares?”
“Thank you. Ugh, I hate that this has all been so morose. I feel like when you get married, it should be this big celebration. So far, it’s felt like a version of hell. The only reason I’ve made it through these past two days is because of you. I’m pretty sure I would have folded after the guest list number.”
“It will get better. Once all this planning is out of the way, it will be smooth sailing.”
“I hope so.” She lifts her burrito and takes another bite. “So you going to finish that conversation about Birdy?”
“What else is there to say?” I ask with a shrug. “I think I’m going to give it another chance, just because she’s cool and I had a good time with her. Maybe it was all the sugar I ate, but I told her I would take her hiking, so I’m going to do that, and we’ll see where it goes from there.”
“Why are you pushing it? If you don’t like her, you don’t like her.”
“It’s not that I don’t like her,” I say. “I actually do. I just didn’t feel anything when I kissed her, and I expected more, you know? Maybe I was nervous. She was tugging at my shirt, and that was hot, so maybe I got in my head.”
“She was tugging on your shirt?” Lia asks, her burrito halfway to her mouth. “Like to take it off?”
“No, like to keep me in place. I liked it. And her lips were super soft. I wonder if I open-mouth kissed her if that would have been better?”
“You didn’t open-mouth kiss her?” Lia asks. “So it was just tight-lipped?”
“Yeah, like a peck.”
“Well, that’s probably why you didn’t feel anything. A peck doesn’t give you much room to interpret attraction.”
“Huh.” I scratch the side of my jaw and grab our lemonade. “You know, you might be right.”
“I know I am.”
“Don’t be humble or anything.”
“When have we ever been humble around each other?”
“Never,” I answer. I lean back in my chair. “What are you doing tonight?”
“Headed over to Brian’s. Things have been a little sticky lately between us, and he’s feeling it, so he asked me over. He’s making dinner.”
“Did you talk to him about the glasses?”
She wipes her mouth with a napkin and nods. “Yeah, he admitted to saying that to his mom.” Fury boils in my stomach. The man is still such a douche, and I can’t ever see myself liking him. “But apologized. I don’t know. I feel like this is when all the rotten things come out in a relationship. It’s best it comes out now, right? So you know you can work through all of it.”
“Yeah, probably.” Just then, my phone beeps with a text. I glance down and see that it’s from Huxley. “One second.” I hold up my finger and then read the text.
Huxley: Can you come over to my place tomorrow? We have some updates I would like to go over.
I text him back quickly.
Breaker: Sure. What time?
Huxley: Nine. See you then.
I glance up at Lia. “Looks like Huxley has some updates.”
“Oooo, Shoemacher is going down.”
Chapter Eight
BREAKER
I’m fucking bored.
Staring at my computer and the Tetris blocks blotting down the screen, I realize that my life is pathetic.
Yup.
This is what I’m doing, playing Tetris on my computer like some seventy-year-old man, all because my best friend is hanging out with her soon-to-be husband, and my brothers are off having copious amounts of sex with their wives. See, this is exactly what I was talking about. I need a life outside of my norm.
I need people to hang out with.
I need activities.
I need something other than sitting at home by myself, wearing a Batman Band-Aid over my nipple because I thought it was funny.
Standing from my desk, I stretch my arms over my head, and I go to text JP to see what he’s doing, then pause. I know what he’s doing, his wife.
Huxley too.
And it’s not even like I can text Banner—our new business partner and friend—because he hooked up with someone at JP and Kelsey’s wedding. Everyone is coupled. EVERYONE!
Stupid, I should be coupled too, not sitting around my house, drinking freaking orange juice and attempting to beat my own personal best on Tetris at seven o’clock at night.
I pick up my phone, click on the thread with Birdy, and shoot her a text.
Breaker: What are you up to? I’m pathetically playing Tetris alone at the moment.
I walk to my bedroom, where I strip out of my shorts and put on a pair of black joggers just as she texts back.
Birdy: I’m watching Sex and the City while feasting on one of our pussy cakes.
Breaker: LOL. Want some company?
Birdy: Always. I’ll ping you my address. By the way, dress comfy. I’m in loungewear.
Breaker: Slipping on a plain T-shirt as we speak.
Birdy: Oh, did I mention no shirt is necessary?
Breaker: I think you skipped that detail. See you soon.