Anxiety grips my stomach like a fist, sending the butterflies still swarming there into a frenzy. Lila’s surprises never go well.
Like the time she baked a “special” ingredient into a batch of brownies without telling me… which I consumed twenty minutes before field hockey tryouts, our junior year at prep school. And the time she bought me a DIY Brazilian bikini waxing kit as a birthday gift… which is still sitting, unused, at the back of my closet somewhere because, hello, if anyone’s putting hot wax near my hoo-hah, it’s going to be a trained professional.
Needless to say, news of her impending surprise is accompanied by a fair amount of dread.
“Please tell me you didn’t buy tickets to Burning Man, Lila.” I shudder. She’s been threatening to drag us to Nevada’s famed music festival in for years. “You know I can’t handle that much bare old-man penis in one week. Especially in the middle of the desert, with no viable escape options.”
“That’s not your surprise.” Her eyes dance with humor. “Plus, Burning Man isn’t until September. You’ve got months to prepare.”
“What?! Please tell me you didn’t buy tickets.”
“Focus!” She snaps a finger in front of my face. “We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”
“How can I focus with visions of ancient sausages dancing through my head like… like…”
“Sugarplums on Christmas Eve?” Lila laughs.
“I hate you.”
“Noted.” She doesn’t bat an eye. “But your surprise tonight is a good one. I promise.”
“Are there old-man penises involved?”
“Definitely not.”
“Thank god.”
“Just one perfect, well-proportioned, twenty-something penis.”
I choke on my champagne.
Lila claps me on the back. “Breathe, tiger.”
“What— Did you say—Penis—” I gulp to clear my airway. “What?”
“I may or may not have snagged you a date.”
I stare at her, mouth gaping. She promised — promised! — she’d never force me into another set-up after the disaster that was Captain Kirk.
“I may or may not kill you,” I hiss, advancing on her. “I would literally rather ride a camel bare-assed across Black Rock desert to Burning Man, get lost along the way, and have to drink my own pee than go on another date you’ve set up for me.”
“Chill!” Her eyes dance again. “This is a good one. I didn’t even find him on the internet.”
“That’s so comforting.” My glare intensifies and my voice drops to a harsh whisper. “It’s not Duncan, is it?”
“Would that be so bad?”
I fight the urge to throttle her.
“Jeeze, you’re high-strung today.” She rolls her eyes. “No, it’s not Duncan. He’s away on business.”
“Thank god for small favors.”
She shoots me a look. “You should be thanking me, not god. Very few friends would go to the trouble of setting you up — thankless task that it is. If I were a lesser woman, my feelings would be hurt.”
“Okay, wait….” I throw out a finger and squint my eyes at her. “Attempting to give a fuck…. Still attempting to give a fuck… one more time….” My eyes snap fully open. “Nope, sorry. No fucks given.”
“You’re impossible.”
“Seriously, Lila, I am not spending the night with some mouth-breathing cretin who thinks the use of dinner napkins is optional and monologues for several hours about his undying love for WWE fights.”
“I prefer low-brow barbarian,” a smooth male voice cuts in from my left. “Though, I will answer to mouth-breathing cretin, if necessary.”
Chapter Eight
Did the first caterpillar to ever change into a butterfly just totally freak the hell out?
Phoebe West, pondering evolution.
My gaze flies in his direction. I feel my face reddening like a tomato on speed as I take in the man standing less than a foot away.