I laughed and shook my head.
Me:Alright, I’m out. Byeeeee???
Beauty:Look at you being all adorable and upping your emoji game for me.
Me:I have to keep up…
Beauty:I know:)
Beauty:Good night, Rina.
I sighed and turned to my right.
Me:Night-night.
17. How Big Is His Cock?
“Okay, be honest with me: how big is his cock?” Ashleigh asked with a maniacal grin on her face.
A tattooed guy was passing by our table, but stopped and arched a brow at her, to which my dear, darling of a best friend, flipped him off. Not so subtly, too, might I add.
The poor man, God bless him, took that gesture good-naturedly, and chuckled before walking away.
I wanted to hide under the collar of my coat, but instead, I glared at Ash and signed,What is wrong with you?
When you Sign a string of words – a sentence, basically – the order of those very same words is different from if you were speaking them out loud. But because Ash has known Sign for just as long as I have, she understands what I’m saying without any issues.
“What?” She tried to act innocent. “That’s the #1 question one asks when their best friend is dating a hottie, okay? It’s so common at this point that it should be a rule. I’m only doing my due diligence here.”
I rubbed both my hands over my face. That woman was a living, breathing migraine. One without a remedy.
I wasn’t sure how to respond to her question anyway because I didn’t exactly know the answer to it.Yet.
We were atThe Publicanfor our usual end-of-the-month brunch. The restaurant was a few blocks from Ash’s workplace, and was also our go-to spot for whenever we needed those delicious, absolutely-necessary carbs.
We’d only just received our order of Frittata, cheese roll-ups, Blueberry Buckle, and Cherry Lime Rickey, when Ash had decided to ask me about the length of Myles’s cock. I couldn’t say I was surprised. I’ve known her for a little over two decades, and she’s always been like this – inappropriately curious and alarmingly bizarre.
Given how maturely she’d behaved with a fellow patron just now – who’d merely been surprised by her interest in another person’s anatomy, it was safe to say that Ash wasn’t planning on changing in this lifetime. Not that I wanted her to, if I were being honest. It was good to have some level of madness in one’s life, and Ash provided that in full, with a sprinkle of garnish on the side.
I wasn’t talking about your question, I signed, and then pointed in the direction the tattooed guy had gone to.
Ash clicked her tongue. “He was trying to dip his toes in an undippable territory, so he got what he deserved.” She then picked up a fork from the center of our table and stabbed it into a piece of Frittata. “Wait, is undippable even a word?”
I shook my head, both in slight annoyance and in answer to her question.
“Yeah, I thought so too.” She began eating, so I did the same.
It was yummy, the Frittata, and was exactly what I needed.
“So, is Miguel still giving you shit for dating Myles?” Ash asked.
He was, up until the moment I left the house this morning, so I’d say yes.
Ash frowned and took a sip of her Rickey, and I shoved a tiny piece of Blueberry Buckle into my mouth before chewing it slowly.
Avôhas been behaving rather curtly with me, which is very unusual, given our rapport. We haven’t done our regular TV binges since that night, and he’s even began ignoring Myles completely during his time at the house. I’ve seen Myles hurting whenAvôwalks past him without a glance, but he doesn’t show any of it to me.
We’ve tried talking to him – separately and together – but he doesn’t even stay long enough for either of us to get much out before dismissing himself without a word.
