I slowly turned my head and shook it, lips pursed tight.
The last thing I need is a full-on dick-measuring contest between my ex-boyfriend and the man I’ve been recently been laid up with, moaning into pillows and rethinking life decisions.
Maybe I should’ve just stayed inside and made a cup of tea.
“Okay,” I declared, tossing up a hand. “We arenotabout to do this… especially not in thecold.” I blew out a puff of frosty breath, narrowing my eyes. “The only thing getting measured out here is firewood… not length, not girth, or stroke stamina. If I want to hear men argue about who lays dick better, I’d walk through a barbershop on discount day. We needheat,not hearsay! Focus!”
Bryce wore a mischievous smirk that suggested he still had a few tricks up his sleeve. Whereas Adrian was looking like he was two degrees from round two.
“Adrian, isthisreally all you’ve gotten since y’all been out here?” I asked, changing the subject, eyeing the crooked, sad-looking pile. It looked like a toddler with a grudge against symmetry built it.
“Yeah, man… you sure this ain’t a beginner’s art project?” Bryce taunted.
Adrian glanced at it like it was a masterpiece. “It’s rustic. And uh… I was handling other important business,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his neck as if that answer would somehow help defend his craftsmanship.
“Like battling frostbite on that baby carrot,” Bryce murmured.
“Bryce!” I warned.
He held his hands up. “Aight. But I told you,” he said to Adrian, “the proof is in the pile.”
I didn’t put too much thought into Bryce’s response. I assumed it was an inside joke and something they were talking about while I was inside the cabin.
“Okay, okay! I’m here… although I’m reallynothere for this,” Isis announced, her tone dripping with the urgency of someone running late for their own reality show premiere.
She made her grand entrance outside, wearing all white everything. A snow-white jumper hugged her curves, layered beneath a thick white fur coat. The matching fur boots that rose to her calves looked like they’d never touched a blade of grass, let alone snow. Isis’s hat, fluffy and obnoxious, sat just right atop of her head, like a crown made of clouds. And of course, her lips were glossed to thehigh heavens, shimmering like she’d kissed a jar of diamonds on the way out the door.
I couldn’t help but snicker. “Did youreallychange clothes just to come outside?”
Isis’s expression suggested that my question was one of the dumbest she had ever heard.
“Uh… yeah. I wasn’t about to come out here looking like a hostage,” she carried on, pulling the collar of her coat tighter around her neck, as if to shield herself from the cold and the perceived judgment. “What if we get stranded and rescued by a camera crew? I gotta be prepared!”
I ignored her theatrics and motioned toward the log pile. “Girl, go grab a piece.”
“A piece of what?” she asked, eyebrows raised in confusion.
“A log… one of those big brown things over there. That’s firewood. It keeps us alive and warm."
With a dramatic sigh, Isis flipped her hair. “Ugh! Okay! But if I chip a nail, somebody’s Venmoing me for a fill-in! And if one splinter so much aslooksat me funny, I’m suing!”
I grabbed two logs with ease. “Just make sure you sue the tree.”
Isis stomped away with exaggerated grace, her furs trailing behind her like a royal train.
“Bryce… why would you say that to that man?”
He smirked slow, deep, and disrespectfully calm, while eyeing me like the answer was obvious.
“’Cause I’m petty, Chess… and thorough. You know this.”
I stared at him, waiting for therealreason.
Bryce’s eyes didn’t soften… they sharpened. “And because any man who lies to you or plays in your face, he gon’ answer to me. Plus, the nigga tried to flex on me. So he deserved a lil’ verbal concussion. I wasn’t gon’ hit… not unless he stepped crazy, but I ain’t above tap-dancing on a nigga’s ego.” He shrugged like the truth weighed nothing. “Some dudes need stitches; others just need to be reminded who they are not.”
Bryce passed me a particularly hefty log, and when our hands brushed together, I felt a little electric spark shoot up my arm. It settled somewhere deep in my stomach, buzzing like a live wire. His eyes swept over my arms, and I could tell he noticed the effect that brief contact had on me.
“You got it?” he asked, his brow furrowed with a genuine concern that made me smirk.
