“Apparently.” I allow my racing heart to settle as I take a seat next to Amelia just as Tucker pulls up in his truck. “I, uh, have some friends coming to hang out. I hope that’s okay.”
“What?” She eyes the truck and starts to frantically wipe at her eyes.
Leaning over, I grip her hands and rest them on her lap. “You look beautiful, Amelia—”
“But I must have makeup smeared all over my face.”
“You don’t. Like I said, you look beautiful.” My words slowly settle her. “I know you probably don’t want to talk about what’s really going on, and don’t consider telling me some bullshit lie about only being able to buy Tootsie Rolls, I know you better than that. I’m kind of out of my element here, so I resorted to the one thing that usually makes me feel better. I invited some of my friends to keep us company. To take our minds off everything.” I grip her hand for comfort. “I’ll understand if you want to go into your house; we can hand out your Tootsie Rolls, but if you want to stay, I can guarantee you some embarrassing stories about me and some good laughs.”
Staring at my hand that covers hers, she looks me in the eyes and says, “You mean there are more embarrassing stories than the time my dad walked in on you masturbating to a picture of me?”
Of course she wouldn’t forget that story.
I grip her hand tightly then pull away. “It’s not like I was jacking off to a picture of you from high school I plucked off your dad’s wall. You’d had boudoir pictures taken for me, I was horny as fuck, and all I wanted was your sweet body against mine. But you had your period and, as you specifically told me, there is a no-fly zone during that time of the month.”
“Still,” she giggles, “he caught you with your pants down, dick in hand, humping the hell out of your palm while staring at me in lingerie.” Her laughter fills my head, and my fucking heart bursts. I’ve missed that sound.
“Whatever. Your dad was just jealous of my dick size.”
“What?” Amelia smacks my arm. “No, he wasn’t.”
I snort. “Uh, he so was.” I look to the sky as I recount that night. “I’m pretty sure he said do you stick that giant thing in my daughter?”
“He did not.” Amelia chuckles.
“Did too, and I told him you liked it in your mouth as well.”
“Oh my God!” Her smile stretches across her face, her eyes wide. “Aaron Walters, you did not say that to my dad.”
Laughing, I shake my head. “I didn’t. I just said I fucked you with it earlier that week in his bed.” So not true, but it’s fun to see how shocked and surprised she gets.
“You’re such a liar.” Laughter still bubbling out of her, she shakes her head at me just as Tucker and Emma walk up with drinks in hand and a grocery bag full of Little Debbie snacks, meaning a brilliant combination for one hell of a night.
“Hey, you guys. This is my neighbor Amelia. Amelia, this is one of my best friends, Tucker, and his wife, Emma.” I lean over to Amelia and wink. “Newlyweds.”
Smiling, she stands and takes their hands. “Congratulations. It’s nice to meet you.”
I introduce Amelia as my neighbor because I feel it’s the best option to make her feel comfortable and not put her on the spot. Nothing like saying, “Hey this is my ex-girlfriend, Amelia, who I’ve never stopped loving but broke her heart only to push her into my brother’s arms. A brother she doesn’t know exists,” to make the night awkward. Eh, I’ll pass.
Tucker, Emma, and Amelia exchange pleasantries before taking their seats. Tucker whips the bag of Little Debbie snacks onto my lap and says, “They didn’t have Cosmic Brownies. Sorry, man.”
“Of course they fucking didn’t. The one thing I was craving.” I dig through the bag and start pulling out boxes. From the corner of my eye, I can see Amelia curiously watching me. My Little Debbie obsession started when I met Racer after Amelia and I broke up. He was the one who got both Tucker and me hooked, but if you ask him about it, he’ll deny it. Probably to his dying day.
Not caring what she might think about my urgency to get the snack in my mouth, I tear open the Caramel Cookie Bars and hold out a package to her. “Want one?”
She eyes it and then looks at the other boxes. “No, I want a Swiss Roll.”
“A woman after my own heart,” Emma says, leaning over and grabbing the box from me. “The Swiss Roll is my favorite. It’s so small and cream filled, just like Tucker’s penis.”
“Ha!” I laugh while nudging my friend with my elbow. “She just called your dick small, dude.”
Tucker rolls his eyes. “She had a few drinks before coming over. Someone is feeling a little comical tonight. Don’t worry, she’ll be reminded about my dick size when we get home.”
“Yeah, I’ll start practicing now.” Emma takes a Swiss Roll and starts thrusting it in and out of her mouth. Okay, maybe bringing them here wasn’t such a good idea. I’m guessing as a married couple, first impressions aren’t their thing. “Although, this is still a little big.” She examines the Swiss Roll, which Tucker snags and plops in his mouth. “Hey!”
He shrugs. “Consequences, babe. You have to live up to them.”
Emma only pouts for a few seconds before she realizes she can open another bag. Yup, she’s drunk, because she’s never been this ravenous over Little Debbie Snacks.
Leaning toward Amelia, I ask, “Want a drink?”
She looks over the different beers and says, “Purely for the name, I’m going to have to take a Raging Bitch.”
“Smart choice.” Tucker pulls out a bottle, pops the top off, and hands it to her. “We like a good Raging Bitch over here.”
“I need to remember that,” Emma counters as she crosses a leg.
I lean over to Tucker and say, “She is feisty tonight.”
He leans even closer. “Frankly, I’m happy you called because I was feeling a little terrified. She’s hyped up and mentioned to me on the way over here something about my cock being gobbled up tonight.”
“Shit.” I chuckle. “What the hell are you doing here then?”
He leans even closer and says, “She made chomping noises, man. I’m giving her a bit to cool down, maybe pass out from a sugar-induced coma.”
“Are you talking about me over there?” Emma asks, her mouth full of Swiss Roll. She thumbs in our direction and talks to Amelia. “These two, they gossip like old hens. The amount of times I’ve caught Tucker talking to Smalls on the phone, lying across our bed with his feet up in the air is ridiculous.”
“That never happened.” Tucker leans over to reassure we don’t act like two teenage girls.
“Smalls?” Amelia squints. “Is that supposed to be you?”
“Yeah.” I take a sip from my Raging Bitch bottle. “Tucker and Racer call me that to make themselves feel less inferior.”
“Yup.” Tucker rolls his eyes again and leans back in his chair. “That’s exactly why.” He studies the street and asks, “Where are all the kids? I thought this street would be jam-packed. We get maybe two trick-or-treaters at our house and that’s only because they’re on their way to your street.”