“Our mother would agree with you,” Dax says.
“Why on earth do you do that to poor Kat? Just to be cruel?”
“Hell no,” Keane says, feigning offense. “Morgan boys are nevercruel—just extremely mean.”
“We’re cruel to be kind,” Dax adds. “It’s not as bad as it sounds. Kat’s initials are K-U-M. Under the circumstances, if wedidn’tcall her Kum Shot and Jizz and all the rest, we wouldn’t be doing our brotherly duty.”
Keane interjects, “It’s our parents’ fault. If only they’d named Kat ‘RachelUlla Morgan,’ she’d have a bunch ofrum-related nicknames, just like Ryan. But did my clueless parents think of that? Nope.”
“Oh,” I say, an epiphany slamming me. “RyanUlyssesMorgan. R-U-M. That’s why everyone keeps calling Ryan ‘Rum Cake’?”
“Yup,” Dax says. “Rum Cake, Captain Morgan, Bacardi, Rum Jungle...”
“Sothat’swhat that bottle-tattoo on Ryan’s ribcage is?” I ask. “A bottle ofrum?” My cheeks flush. “I, uh, saw it on the beach.”
“Yeah,” Dax replies. “My dad says Ryan heard, ‘Yo, ho, ho and a bottle of rum’ as a toddler and has been obsessed with pirate-stuff ever since.”
My head is swimming. I glance over at Ryan across the party, to find him still talking to the same Faraday-Henn group as before.Captain Morgan.Warmth spreads throughout my body.Captain, My Captain.
After a moment, Keane’s voice draws me out of my hormone-induced reverie.“Don’t stress it, little brother,” Keane is saying to Dax. “Halfway through your first song tomorrow night, Reed will be begging 22 Goats to sign on the dotted line. And when he does, send him my way to negotiate the contract, son. I’ll get you top dollar.”
“Yeah, all of it in crumpled singles that smell like your balls,” Fish says, and everyone laughs.
“Hey, nothing wrong with singles that smell like my balls,” Keane says. “They’ve been paying my rent just fine.”
“Hey, you know I love you the most, Peenie—and that’s not a figure of speech,” Dax says. “But you’re the last person in the world I’d ask to negotiate a contract for me.”
Keane laughs. “Probably a wise choice. Better ask Ryan.” When my eyes involuntarily shift to Ryan across the room for the umpteenth time, Keane follows my gaze and nudges my arm. “That man right there is the greatest guy you’ll ever meet, T-Rod. Any woman would be lucky to snag that dude.” He lowers his voice. “And, fun fact? I’ve heard from a reliable source Rum Cakereallyknows his way around a cockpit, if you know what I mean, so I’d definitely hop aboard that jet plane and ride it all the way to the horizon if you get the opportunity.” He winks.
I’m absolutely floored.What the fuck did Keane just say to me?And more importantly,whythefuckdid he feel compelled say it? Ryan must have said something to Keane about us!Oh my God, I’m gonna rip that loose-lipped bastard limb from motherfucking limb!
“Yee-boy!” Keane says loudly, high-fiving Zander, pulling me out of my murderous thoughts. “You hear that, Z? Daxy loves me the most.”
“Of course, he does, baby doll,” Zander says. “We all do.”
“It’s cause I’m a giver, honey nuggets—it’s a blessing and a curse.”
“Honey nuggets?” I interject, my head spinning. “Baby doll?”
“Oh, that’s nothing between those two,” Dax says. “They also call each other ‘Wifey’ and a million other bizarre things two dudes in a straight bromance normally wouldn’t call each other. You get used to it when you hang around them long enough.”
“Ain’t no shame in my game,” Zander says. “Love is love. I’ll say it loud and proud:I love Peen.”
We all laugh.
And, just like that, I’m having too much fun to focus on plotting Ryan’s murder anymore, though I’ll surely resume my plotting later. “So how’d this beautiful bromance between the two of you start?” I ask Keane and Zander. “Do you two work together?”
“Oh, hell no,” Zander says. “I’m a personal trainer, not a professional ass-shaker. Actually, Peen and I met—”
“Hold up, Choco Nana,” Keane says, holding up his hand. “Let me tell T-Rod the story of how we met.”
“Oh, you wanna tell T-Rod the story of how we met, do ya?” Zander asks, a twinkle in his eye. “Sure, Peenie Weenie, be my guest.”
36
Tessa
Keane flashes his outrageous dimples and clears his throat. “Well, Tessa—may I call you Tessa?”
