“Baby, I’m glad you’ve dragged me away, you know why?” he said. “Because it shows me you don’t think that being independent means you can’t ask for help anymore.”
“I know.” And I nearly said it. I nearly told him something I’d only ever told my parents and I sobered up fast. Sitting on a toilet in an ex-bank while your friends and sister tried to identify the owner of a penis was not the right place to be when you first told someone those words. And I knew when I said them, they would rock his world.
“So fix your lipstick and go up there. You looked at any dick pics yet?”
Shit. Did all the men know about them?
“It’s next. I think the pictures of Killian’s photoshopped penis were being passed around when I left,” I said. “How did Amelie get all these?”
There was a laugh and the background noise resumed. “Go and join in and have some cocktails. And don’t worry. See you in a bit, Ava.”
The penis pictures were not things of beauty. The erect penis of your lover might be a wondrously gorgeous thing when you’re in the moment and it can do all kinds of good, but flaccid male members whose manscaping habits were questionable were not the sort of images that encouraged awe and wonder.
“That’s Matty Bernard’s,” Amelie said, pointing at one particular picture.
“And how do you know that?” Vanessa asked, eyeballing her suspiciously.
Amelie shrugged. “I might’ve found out one night. We had some fun. He has a slight bend to his penis which helps hit the spot.”
Claire shook her head. “I give up. I have six left to identify. Ava, which is Elijah’s?”
I held my head in my hands. Payton nudged me and passed me a refilled tequila sunrise. “Drink. We’re all in this together. She picked out Owen’s first time.”
“That was because she walked in on him once in the rugby club when he was getting changed,” I said, taking a long swig of the drink. Eli was right, I had a plan in place so there was no way I was going anywhere I wasn’t meant to be. I’d messaged him, a picture of my drink, a selfie with Payton, our food. He’d responded every time with photos, a video of Seph dancing on a table which didn’t surprise anyone, especially when he fell off it.
“Is that Max’s tinky-winky?” Claire said, loudly. “Awww, Vicky! How do you manage?”
I spat out a fraction of my cocktail.
“It’s the same size as Killian’s, going off the pictures,” she said, clearly feeling the need to add the last. “And it’s a grower. And he’s good with it. Handy with the cuffs as well.” She waggled her eyebrows at Claire and duly found herself flicked with a splash of whatever drink Claire had.
“I’m not sure I want to see pictures of my brother’s dicks,” she said. “Although they wear them on their heads often enough. That’s Seph’s. I recognise the birthmark.”
“We should’ve banned this game,” Payton said. “This was a terrible idea.” She checked her phone and squinted at the time. “And they’re running late – the entertainment. I should phone them.” She stood up, using the table to support herself, and headed out of the room to check on where our ‘male dancers’ were.
She was back two minutes later, shaking her head. “It’s been fucking cancelled! Apparently, someone rang up to say the hen do was postponed and they’ve issued me with a refund.”
“Drink,” I said, and passed her a refilled Long Island Iced Tea. My eyes hovered at the door and then at Simone. I pulled out my phone and checked my messages. Surprisingly quiet.
Me: Tell me, dear Elijah, are you on your way somewhere right now?
There was no response, just the innocuousseen. I went back to my tequila sunrise and sat back and watched, having a fairly good idea of who had cancelled our entertainment and what the replacement was.
A fifth or sixth serving of cocktails in jugs was brought out but the waiter didn’t close the door behind him on his way out and instead a dozen or so, very recognisable, very loud, ‘soldiers’ entered.
“Holy crap,” Payton said. “Holy mother fucking crap. I haven’t had anywhere near as much alcohol as I need for this.”
I recognised most of the men, some of them very well as Callum, Seph, Max and Jackson were there wearing fatigues, tight white vests and dog tags that I suspected had been engraved. Eli and Owen were looking as if they were about to fall about with laughter and I wondered who was going to curl up and die of embarrassment first.
Killian was desperately trying not to laugh at Claire as he bent down and gave her a kiss that began to border on inappropriate very quickly which caused a lot of comments and whistles.
“Attention!” A man I recognised as Killian’s sergeant at some point when he was in the Royal Marines yelled loudly and all of the men stood still, apart from Seph who never stood still.
The music that I had barely noticed all night faded and a loud, familiar song started to play. I groaned at the predictability of it, then started to laugh as the familiar beat kicked in, and the men’s moves came out.
There was no way I wanted to look at any of my brothers as they started to peel off the tight white vests so I fixed my eyes on Eli, knowing that everything I felt, including hysteria, was going to be written in bold across my face.
His eyes locked onto mine and he smiled dirtily, as he had done two nights ago when he had me pinned up against the shower wall in Claire’s house while everyone else was asleep.
