“The finger thing was a holdup for me. I thought it was kind of weird,” Eli says.
“We decided losing a finger was a good threat. We kept toes for skating balance, dicks for pleasure, and hair wasn’t threatening enough. A finger was a good option. It lets you know we’re not fucking around. But there was the amendment to the finger. Did you see it?” Pacey asks.
Eli nods. “A trial of holding a stick without one finger. If it doesn’t go well, the group collectively gets to pierce the offenders belly button and add a permanent charm that shall never ever be removed.”
“Correct.” Pacey nods. “Belly button piercing with dangly, glitzy charm seemed just as offensive, so either way, don’t fuck up and tell Penny. Got it?”
With obvious strain, Eli pulls on the back of his neck and says, “I wish I’d known what the secret was about before I signed the NDA. This is dangerous territory for me. Is there an out where I can mentally erase what you just told me and not go any deeper? I mean, the Frozen Fellas feels like a band I want to be a part of, but given the circumstances, I don’t think I can be involved and keep Penny out of it.”
“I think that’s fair,” Silas says. “All in favor of excusing Eli from this discussion and all discussions involving Blakely and Holmes, say aye.”
As a collective whole, the guys all say, “Aye,” then wait for me.
Rolling my eyes, I say, “Aye.”
“You are excused, but you will not utter anything you’ve heard to Penny regarding the Frozen Fellas and Break Blakely.”
Eli holds up his hand as if he’s on the stand and swearing in to trial. “I shall keep my mouth shut.”
“Good,” Pacey says, and Eli walks away, bringing the attention back to me. “So you talked to her last night? Did she get the furniture?”
“Yes, and yes,” I answer.
“Did you swoon?” OC asks.
“What? No. Jesus. It was nothing like that. It was a solid text convo. We joked a bit, and she thanked me for the furniture with a picture today.”
“She sent a picture?” Silas asks. “Let’s see it.”
“No, I’m not going to show you the picture.”
“You have to show us the picture,” Pacey says. “We have to see if there are any hints in it.”
“Hints?” I ask.
“Oh yeah, hints.” OC nods knowingly. “There are ways girls take pictures that can give us a good indication of their thoughts. Position, angle, clothes, expression. It all matters.”
“That’s absurd. It’s just a regular picture.”
“Says the guy who didn’t know he should walk around with his shirt off to get the girl,” Silas says. “Show us the picture.”
“Yeah, show it to us.” Pacey pokes my leg.
“It’s the only way to figure out what’s going on in her head,” OC adds.
That’s when I glance up at Posey, who’s sitting in a pulled-up chair in front of me, slowly rubbing his hands together with a smirk on his face.
“What’s with the silence?” I ask.
A maniacal smile crosses over his face. “Just pleased with myself. This is unfolding perfectly.”
“I’m out of here. I need a shower.” I go to stand, but Silas and OC grip one of my shoulders and sit my ass right back down.
“Sorry, boss,” OC says. “But we’re going to need to see that picture.”
“Yup, you’re not going anywhere until we see it.” Silas glares at me, and everyone turns to Posey, who is sitting there, looking like the fucking Godfather, ready to give the nod to have someone’s head blown off.
“The picture,” he says in a terse voice. “Show it to us.”
