***
“To threesomes,” I said, raising my jug of beer in the air.
We were sitting in a tapas bar in Pioneer Square, the rain falling steadily outside. Rebecca and Perry were across from me, my two favorite women, and we were making a toast. Not to my boyish sexual fantasies but to our future.
Our plan was in effect. We had just asked Rebecca to become the third member of Experiment in Terror and she’d gleefully accepted. Now that Maximus was staying behind in NOLA and taking care of Rose, we realized that it really was worth it to have someone else on the team with us. Someone to organize shit and film when we needed an extra hand. She wouldn’t be on camera, even though Perry asked her to, but she’d make sure everything was running smoothly. And we knew Jimmy loved Rebecca and wanted to use her in any way he could. With Wine Babes kaput, he’d be happy to know that Rebecca was still with the Shownet team.
Meanwhile, Jenn could go fuck herself. But that was neither here nor there.
“To threesomes,” Rebecca and Perry said in unison and the three of us clinked our mugs together. We chugged it down and then waved over the waitress for another round.
Rebecca dabbed at her red lips with a napkin. “So where is our first adventure?”
“It ain’t Napa Valley, baby,” I told her. “So you can forget the wine and macaroni and cheese.”
She grinned. “Good. I was so sick of that bloody shit. I never want to drink another glass of wine again. A pint of ale is all there is for me, now and for good.”
“All these years in the states, and you still speak funny,” I teased her, sitting back in the booth. The bar was crowded, everyone having a good time, and it felt fucking good to have my favorite people around me. Cold and wet outside, dry and warm inside. A perfect Seattle night.
“Ha ha,” Rebecca said, shooting me her patented dirty look, made more vicious by her thick eyeliner.
Perry smiled. “We don’t know where we’re going yet. But that’s something you can look into. Start searching around the web to see if there are some paranormal hotspots or new hauntings. No matter how implausible it sounds, flag it and we can all look into it together. Go from there.”
I squeezed her knee under the table. I loved seeing her take charge. It was about time.
A Foo Fighters song came on in the bar and Rebecca got up. “Care to dance with me, Dex?” she asked, batting her eyes. She looked to Perry. “You’re next, by the way.”
Perry grinned and sipped back her beer. She swatted at my ass as Rebecca pulled me to the floor. “You better not turn her straight,” she warned me.
“Baby,” I said raising my arms out to the side of me, “if I haven’t made her want cock at this point, you know she’s muff for life.”
Perry laughed and rolled her eyes while Rebecca hissed, “Dex!” in my ear, continuing to pull me backward until I was surrounded by a bunch of collegiate drunk idiots trying to both dance and rock out to Dave Grohl.
I scoffed at them. “You think this is rock?”
“Dex,” Rebecca warned again. “You can’t dance to anything heavier than this.”
“I dunno,” I said, taking her hands in mine as if we were preparing to waltz. “I think I can dance to anything. It’s why God gave me feet.”
“Please don’t tell me what else God gave you,” she groaned.
I laughed. “You know me too well.”
She smiled but her eyes had turned serious. “I do. So when are you going to do it?”
I gasped in mock surprise. “My dear Rebecca, did you lure me to the dance-floor under false pretences?”
“Of course,” she said. She nodded subtly to a blonde chick waiting at the bar. “If I wanted to dance with someone properly, I would have asked that woman over there.”
“She’s nice. Big boobs, full ass. You and I have similar tastes.”
She grunted. “Come on, Dex, I’m serious.”
“So am I.”
She kicked my leg. Her pointy shoes should come with a hazardous warning.
“Hey, ow,” I scowled at her. “I was recently a human carving board, remember?’”
“Hey, Dex. When are you going to do it?” she asked again.
It was my fault. I’d been stupid enough to let Rebecca in on my secret. I was regretting it now, but I had really needed her opinion.
“I don’t know,” I told her honestly, my eyes drifting over to Perry who was drinking at the table, looking comfortable and happy. “Not for a while. I’ll know when the time is right.”
Rebecca grinned and squeezed my hands. “I’m so excited. You’re going to get married!”
“Shut it,” I warned her, giving her a biting look. “I haven’t asked yet and she hasn’t accepted.”
“But you bought the ring today, didn’t you?”
I nodded. It was burning a hole in my fucking pocket as we spoke. After Perry and I had gone to see Jimmy, we went back to the apartment. I excused myself saying that I had to go get my car insurance renewed (which was true) and that I’d be right back. I ended up going to this jeweler just outside of town, one that specialized in vintage baubles. The generic diamond bullshit wasn’t fit for my Perry. I didn’t want chicks asking her how many carats it was or how much I paid. I had the money—it was just no one’s business.
The ring was from the sixties, made of white gold, and honestly couldn’t be more perfect. Naturally there were a few diamonds, but they acted as accents and flanked a center stone thingy of red and yellow. Ruby and yellow topaz—my birthstone and hers.
I wanted to show it to Rebecca in person, but I was too terrified to take it out in public, so the best she got was a quick photo from my phone after I purchased it from the overjoyed Croatian man. I erased the photo right after and when I got back to the house, Perry made me go on a walk with her and Fat Rabbit. Right after that Rebecca wanted to do drinks so we could discuss our business proposition. I didn’t have the time to take it out of my pocket and hide it somewhere, so there it was. At least it was in the tiny change pocket in my jeans, a place I could barely fit my fingers.
“I hope I’m a bridesmaid,” Rebecca said. “Oh, you’re going to have an amazing wedding. I can’t wait to start planning this. The bridesmaid dresses have to be amazing, I know this perfect tailor in Bellevue who could do it.”
And then Rebecca was babbling and babbling about the wedding. I didn’t hear a thing until the song ended. I shot her an apologetic smile and marched straight to Perry, holding my hand out to her.
“Care to dance, m’lady?” I asked.
Perry smiled sweetly and put her dainty hand in mine. I closed my fingers over it and choked back on a sudden lump in my throat. Soon. Soon I would be on my knees doing this.
Asking for her hand in marriage.
She got up and I brought her to the dance floor, pulling her body close to mine. I don’t even know what song was playing. It didn’t matter.
All that mattered was us.
Me and the future Mrs. Dex Foray.
THE END
And we’re back to Perry’s POV for Experiment in Terror #8 Ashes to Ashes, coming Winter 2013
Thank you: My amazing Scott MacKenzie and our dear Bruce – I love you both. The crazy awesome authors of Fight Club, the ladies (and Rob) of Halle’s Harlots. My parents, for being awesome (like cleaning my house, walking my dog and putting together my elliptical machine kind of awesome) and for letting me use their boat as an office. Kelly St-Laurent, Megan Simpson, Emily Franke, Megan Ward and Kara Malinczak – you all really stepped up to the plate with this one. EIT fans, everywhere, this book’s for you.