“And risk you puking all over us? No, thank you,” says JP.
Huxley pulls on the back of his neck, observing me. “Do you think we need to stay with him?”
“He’s not that drunk, just stupid drunk. He’ll sleep it off and be fine.”
“I can tell there’s a headache in my future.” I pause and then sit up. “Wait . . . did I donate to the pigeons?”
JP shakes his head. “I tried to get you to, but Kelsey stopped me.”
“Thank fuck for that angel of yours.” I let out a large sigh, then grab the pillow Lia used, pulling it into my chest, where I give it a large squeeze. “Fuck, she smells so good. Like a field of flowers.”
“I thought that’s what her pussy tasted like,” JP says. “You need to work on your descriptors.”
“She’s just flowers everywhere. One giant flower.” I moan out her name. “Oh, Ophelia.”
“Okay, shit’s getting weird,” JP says, taking a step back. “I think we have the right to vacate the premises.”
“Yeah, I think you’re right.” Huxley pats my foot. “Call us if you need anything.”
“I need you to break up the wedding. Thank you, and have a good day.”
“Yeah, we’ll get right on that,” JP says as they both walk away.
“Angels, all of you are angels.” And then I pass out into my pillow.
* * *
LIA
The front door shuts,and I bring my legs to my chest, holding them closely.
After another two hours of fighting, Brian and I both thought that maybe it was best to take a moment to cool off. He’s going to his place for the rest of the night while I’m staying here. He asked if I was going to go talk to Breaker, and I told him I had no intention of going over to Breaker’s place. I’m not even sure he’s home, as I heard him leave earlier, so I have no idea what he’s doing.
And I’m not in the mood to see anyone.
Am I wrong in this situation? Am I being selfish? I don’t think I am. I’m not asking for much from him. I’m just asking him to talk to me, to want me, to be the fiancé I deserve. And if he can’t give me the attention I deserve right now, who’s to say he’d be able to give it to me when we’re married?And The Beave sent a fucking photo of the dress I chose to see if he approved? What am I? A preschooler?
I don’t think I’ve ever been more confused in my life.
I rest my head against the couch just as my phone lights up with a text message.
Breaker:How was the blow job?
If only he knew.
Lia:Nonexistent.
The dots pop up, indicating he’s texting back, so I lie on my side on the couch and pull a blanket over me while I wait for him to respond.
Breaker:Shame. I gave you some good tips. Really good. Like . . . so good.
Lia:I’m sure you did.
Breaker:I really like the sucking of the tip, it feels so fucking good, Lia.
Uhh . . . okay. Not sure what’s going on, but maybe it’s a continuation of the conversation from earlier.
Lia:Yes, you stated that earlier.
