She tried to bite back her smile as she said, “You might want to take a look at this one.”
With my friends all looking over my shoulder, I grabbed the phone and was horrified by what I found.
It’s a text that is made to look like it was sent by me, even though it wasn’t. That’s my damn telephone number online for the world to see. Whoever posted this knows my cell phone number. The text is of a damn dick. A teeny tiny dick with my number and the Camels logo tattooed on it. And it doesn’t look fake. It looks fucking real, like I have a small dick with a tattoo and sent this to someone.
Kam smirks. “I didn’t know you had a… tattooed dick, D. Hopefully the images appear smaller than they are in real life, right?” She winks at me.
Everyone is still laughing. “Who in the world would do this to m—” And then it hits me. KennedyfuckingJeffries. That ruthless bitch did this. I know it.
Suddenly the Electric Slide begins playing. Kam’s eyes widen. “Ooh, I love this song. Did you all know that it’s rumored to be about a vibrator?”
Everyone just stares at her. “Yep.” She starts singing the words to the song. “You can’t see it. It’s electric. You gotta feel it. It’s electric. Oooh, it’s shocking. It’s electric.”
They all start laughing again before heading back to the dance floor to do all the well-known moves to the song. Not me. I’m walking out of the room to call the most horrific woman to ever walk this planet.
I click on her number, and it rings once before I’m sent to voicemail. That cunt isn’t bothering to pick up.
I call at least five more times, all with the same result. I’m not leaving some ranting voicemail that she’ll probably post on social media. I’m smart enough for that.
I text her.
Me: Pick up the damn phone.
Black Flag: No hablo inglés.
Me: I’m calling again. Pick up or I’ll tell your father you fucked half the team.
Black Flag: I don’t care. Tell him that made-up story. Doesn’t bother me if he thinks I got gang banged by the whole damn city. What’s he going to do, spank me?
And my traitorous dick twitches at the notion of spanking her. I look down at it, moving from limp to a semi. What the fuck is wrong with my dick? I think she broke his will. I tug on my hair. Ahh. This woman is infuriating.
I try calling her again, but this time she picks up right away, cackling. “I thought I might hear from you, scarecrow. How’s the wedding?” she asks innocently.
“Don’thow’s the weddingme, you evil witch. This is way overstepping,” I scream into the phone.
She scoffs. “Pft. Overstepping? Overstepping is kissing me on national television and then announcing that we’re siblings. Newsflash, I don’t get paid millions of dollars like you. I nearly lost my biggest endorsement deal thanks to your antics. You fucked with my image and my livelihood. That, asshole, is overstepping.”
Hmm, I never thought about it that way. I’m starting to feel bad until I remember what she just did. “You know where I am, Cruella? At a wedding. Something you’ll never have because no one in their right mind will ever want to spend their life with you. You’re such a ruthless bitch.”
“Thank you.”
“It wasn’t a compliment.”
“I disagree. I read that every time you’re a bitch, it adds a year to your life. I’m immortal, motherfucker. Have a good night doing damage control. Toodaloo,” she sings before ending the call.
Shit. She’s right. I need damage control. I can’t have this misinformation out there. I will fucking go full Monty if I have to in order to prove what my manhood looks like.
I need a plan. Tanner. I have to find him. Last I saw my agent about an hour ago, he was grinding up against Bailey on the dance floor. So much for their relationship being a secret.
By the time I head back into the reception room, it’s nearly empty except for Cheetah and Kam. They’re doing a choreographed dirty dancing routine on the dance floor to a sensual Latin song. They’re all alone except for the band, like it’s a private party just for the two of them.
I couldn’t take my eyes off Kam tonight. She’s wearing a tight, strapless, royal-blue bridesmaid dress that has a high slit up the side where her long, defined legs keep making an appearance. I can’t believe that asshole met the perfect woman before I had the chance to.
My mother and father used to dance all the time. It’s one of the few memories I have of them as a couple.
Kam and Cheetah smile, laugh, and kiss. They look so in love. I adore Cheetah, and I’m happy for him, but I’ve never been more jealous of another man than I am right now.
I let outa loud laugh at the Thanksgiving table. My dad is the funniest man I know.
