Sam blew a breath out and the sound transitioned into a groan and then a growl, and his expression was dark, thunderous.
“All right, Tiel. This has been more than enough. Keep doing that,” he rumbled, gesturing toward the macaron I was licking. “But don’t be surprised if you find my cock in your mouth very soon.”
I winked, and licked the rest of the filling.
HOW I KNEW I’d officially lost it: I was moping at a party.
Perhaps moping wasn’t the right word, but I was staring into my gin and tonic, too disinterested to bother drinking it. Riley, in his professional capacity as bartender for this event, also managed to pour a blindingly strong drink. This thing had the capacity to knock me into next year.
There was a great crowd at Patrick and Andy’s apartment for their Chrismukkah shindig, and it really should have been amusing. But I hadn’t been in a social situation without Tiel since the summer, and I didn’t know what to do with myself. The temptation to text her was high, but I didn’t want to interfere with her family’s plans.
I also didn’t want to be a needy little fuck.
“If you’re going to sit in a corner, why don’t you watch the rice while you’re at it?” Andy asked.
She pointed to the cast iron pot on the stove, waving me off the kitchen island barstool. Following her direction, I grabbed a wooden spoon and stirred the spicy rice.
“I take it Tiel’s out of town?” I nodded. “And she still hates me?”
“I don’t think she’s chromosomally capable of hate,” I laughed. “She’s uncomfortable in big families. Her own is a rotting bag of dicks, and we fail to acknowledge that we’re an intimidating bunch.”
“That you are,” she murmured. “It took me three weeks to keep you all straight, and there are still times when I don’t know what the hell you’re all talking about.”
Whirling around, I almost knocked the salad bowl from Andy’s hands. “Would you tell her that? Tiel?”
She leaned over the pot on the stove, breathing in the aroma and taking the spoon from my hand to add seasoning. “No problem. I don’t get the impression she has any interest in talking to me, ever, but I can try.”
I threw my arms around her shoulders and squeezed. “Oh God, thank you, Andy.”
She patted my arm and said, “You’re in rough shape.”
“I’m fine,” I said, careful not to spit the words out with the frustration I felt. “Wanting Tiel to feel welcome—”
“No, no, no. You’re missing me,” she said. She draped her arm around my shoulder, smiling. “It’s nice to see you caring about someone, even if it’s torturing the shit out of you right now.”
“Um, yes,” Patrick mumbled, coming up behind me. He elbowed me away from Andy and folded her against his chest. “Let’s not be doing that, please. You do not need to be touching her.”
“I was just thanking Andy for helping me,” I said.
“Right, and you can do that with words,” he said. “Keep your fucking hands to yourself.”
I spent most of the night helping Andy with the food, and once that was handled I washed the dishes. It was a good distraction from missing Tiel, and it saved me from engaging in stupid conversations about snow predictions and the college bowl series.
When the night started winding down and only Patrick, Andy, Shannon, Riley, Nick, and I were left, Riley took to mixing Irish coffees.
“Ri, this is strong enough to tranquilize a rhino,” I said. Everyone was settled in the living room, and promptly sampled their coffees.
“It really isn’t,” Nick said.
“Dude, if you get hammered and piss on my wall, I’ll kill you,” Patrick said.
“Your tolerance is off,” Riley murmured. “You haven’t been hard drunk in months.”
Maybe he was right. Tiel and I always had a few drinks when we went out, but never as many as before. My goal wasn’t numb oblivion.
“That’s positive,” Shannon said. “Is that something you’re working on now?”
“Shannon, can you do us all a favor and not talk to him like he’s five?” Nick asked. “So his lady has some fire-breathing dragon moments. So do you. Oddly enough, no one’s tried to run you off.”
