EVERLEE – STARS AND STRIPES
Theinsistentbangingonthe door grows louder.
“Evy baby, let me in!”
“You don’t get to call me that Lizzy,” I say, leaning across the sink to apply my fun new blue eyeliner.
“Why the fuck not? Knox does, and you melt into an enormous pile of goo.” Her muffled voice sounds like her lips are pressed against the door and I wouldn’t be surprised if she asks me to build a snowman with her next breath.
“That’s his name for me, not yours.”
“You don’t want to know what my name is for you.”
“Lizzy!”
“Fuck! Call me Seraphina and let me in.”
“Are we back to Seraphina?” I tie the bow between my breasts before giving my girls an encouraging lift.
She bangs open-handed on the door, causing her ring to make a tick noise. “Let me in,” she whines.
“I’m almost done.”
“Huzzah! We’re running late.”
“Is there a reason we have to be there at a certain time? You don’t have anything planned, do you?” A small trickle of panic tingles across my skin. There’s no reason she would, but you never know with her.
“God no. I told you. The only thing I’m planning is my wedding. Well, and our vaycay.”
Our vacation.
We leave tomorrow and head down south to a beach house for the week. I don’t know how the boys swung it, but they’re taking the entire week off. Loveuz is pretty self-sustainable with the management Jax has in place, Low is going to manage Vixen, Sammie is still in town and agreed to watch Allure, and Emmett is trusting his baby in the hands of a few head chefs. He’s worked diligently over the last two weeks to make sure that plans and schedules are locked down in place. It helps that all the businesses are closed Monday and Tuesday for the holiday and Vixen is also closed the Wednesday after. The employees are super appreciative the guys are giving them three paid days off for the holiday.
Oh fuck!
My stomach drops when I realize my luggage is in the bedroom, unsupervised with Lizzy. Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit! Shit!
I give my ass a quick clench, to make sure the boy's gift and request is still tucked away nicely.
Yes. When I got home from work today, there was a note with a little box and a bouquet of roses and lilies waiting on my kitchen counter. Excited, I opened the box to find a shiny new butt-plug. The instructions, hand written by Knox, said to turn it on and plug ‘er in. That was then scratched out and I can tell Jax took over, saying the same thing only more eloquently. I chuckled, because I could just picture Jax telling Knox to shut the fuck up or move out of the way. Those two make me laugh so much. Knox is so playful and loves to rib Jax, and Jax gives him the reaction he wants every time.
I love it.
I love them.
My boys.
Leaning over the sink, I check my mascara one last time, then tuck a loose strand of hair up in one of the many bobby-pins I have scattered through my hair. This afternoon I got a wild hair up my ass to do these super cute curls. And they are. Super cute. But fuck if it didn’t take two damn hours. I kept telling myself I was almost done and only had a few minutes left.
I did that for one hundred and thirteen minutes.
Go me!
Sighing, I check for any other loose hairs, turn around in the mirror, check out my ass, then walk to the door. With my hand still on the lock, the handle twists and the door pushes open.
“It’s about damn time.”
I have this horrible tendency to hear words and break into song. Case in point… “In a minute, I might need a sentimental man or woman-”
