Lia:I need more friends! I need girl friends, to be precise. Lottie and Kelsey seem cool, and if they’re going to be on our Family Feud team, then I need to get to know them.
Breaker:So you are inviting yourself?
Lia:Please . . . Pickle.
Breaker:Ugh, fine, but I swear to God, Lia, if you start spouting off embarrassing shit about me like you did at the last brunch before the wives were around, I’m going to kick you right in the crotch.
Lia:Oh no, not a kick to the crotch. *shivers*
Breaker:Yeah, a giant old foot right to the camel toe.
Lia:I had a camel toe ONCE! Do not use that against me.
Breaker:I can still see it like it was yesterday . . .
Lia:And you were saying you don’t WANT me to say anything embarrassing about you to your brothers . . .
Breaker:Oh, would you look at that? The camel-toe image vanished.
Lia:Funny how that works. When do I need to be ready?
Breaker:I leave in twenty. Dress slutty.
Lia:Slutty? Why?
Breaker:Might be fun to send Brian another picture.
Lia:Too soon, Breaker, too soon.
Breaker:LOL, noted. See you in twenty.
* * *
“I needto buy some of your cologne,” I say as we pull up to Huxley’s place, a large white coastal-style house with black-framed windows and accents. It’s beautiful with its manicured lawns and fresh flower boxes under the window. Picturesque. The type of house I’d want one day.
“Why do you need to buy some of my cologne?” Breaker asks as he parks in the circular driveway.
“It smells sublime. I think I want it for myself.”
“You can’t wear my cologne,” he says, giving me a strange look.
“Why the hell not?”
“Because we can’t smell like each other. Besides, I like the smell of your perfume. Viktor & Rolf really suits you.”
“It’s scary how you remember my perfume. I’m not sure Brian could even describe the scent to me if I asked him.”
“A subtle combination of rose, jasmine, and orchid,” he says, his eyes landing on me.
And then we stare at each other for a few seconds, in the car, with the world whipping around us. How does he know that? I wouldn’t be that precise with the way it smells, yet, Breaker knows everything.
Every last thing about me.
He knows that when I get my period, I get horrible migraines, and he’s always there with Ibuprofen, caffeine, and Sour Patch Kids.
He knows that I’m not that big on working out, but that sometimes I get in moods of wanting to work out, so he always has a variety of classes I can join when I come to him. He keeps them in a note in his phone.
He knows that without even having to ask, he buys Comic Con VIP tickets for us and thinks up our costume ideas because I love going. Still, I can’t handle the stress of it all, and I’d rather be told what to wear and when than to figure it out myself.
