She hadn’t been seen again.
That said, last Sunday morning, we’d met a redhead.She alsohad the ball-and-chain look.
And she, too, had been hustled out the door by Mag so hecould take her home.
The good news was, he was not a man who made them Uber it.
The bad news was, he was a Slam Bam Thank You Ma’am Man.
Mo explained, unnecessarily, this was about Nikki.He’d beenrabidly faithful to Nikki, and with any woman he was seeing, staunchlymonogamous.
But now, his bud was attempting to fuck Nikki’s memory away.
This was doomed to fail.I knew it.Mo knew it.Mag probablyknew it.Though it was clear he needed this pointed out so he not only knew itsubconsciously, but also consciously, and then he could stop breaking heartsall over Denver doing it.
I wasn’t prepared to get into that just then.
I wanted to take care of the Denver sisterhood at the sametime help Mag over his heartbreak, but…
Priorities.
Luckily, right then, I didn’t have Mag’s latest random pieceof ass.
I had Mag, Auggie and Boone filling camelbacks with water(Mag) and downing a protein-load breakfast (Auggie and Boone) which, along withthem all wearing various forms of running gear, shared with me they were goingto take to the streets.
“Is there a marathon I don’t know about?”I asked ingreeting, and got three big, white smiles.
Just to share, Mag was nearly as tall as Mo, built tough,but lean, and he had a mess of black hair that was longish, prone to wave,curl, flip and often fell in his eyes in a way that he knew worked so good, orhe’d tame that mane.This was paired with rugged, rough-hewn features andelectric-blue eyes.
Boone, on the other hand, was pure, classic male beauty.Theangles of his face could have been drawn by Michelangelo.The cut of hischeekbones probably had numerous poems written about them.They definitely hadcountless orgasms attributed to them (amongst other things about him).He haddark blond hair that was a thick swath on top, short on the sides and brilliantgreen eyes.
Oh yeah, and he was tall and built, but instead of beingMo’s six five, or Mag’s six four, he was probably around six two.
Auggie had not turned out to be a disappointment.It was nowonder women treated him like a god.Thick black hair that curled quite a bitaround his neck, black eyes, olive skin, dense brows with a perfect arch, longstubble, sublime nose with slightly flared nostrils and a generous mouth, evenI would be down with worshiping at the altar of him.And I had all that was Mo.
He was slim, not slight.Sinewy.Not an ounce of body fat onhim (not that the others had any).And he was the shortest of the bunch,including Axl.Auggie probably measured in at six one, whereas Axl slotted inat number three, behind Mo and Mag, who, at my guess, was six three.
In normal circumstances, this was a lot to take in of amorning.
At that time, I didn’t even think about it.
“Mornin’, Mac,” Boone said.
“Yo, Lots,” Auggie said.
“Hey, girl,” Mag said.“Want some breakfast?”
“Mo and I are going out later,” I told Mag.“But thanks.”
Mag looked to Mo’s door.
“Trail run,” Auggie declared, and my gaze went to him.
“Sorry?”
“Going up into the mountains to do a trail run, babe,” hesaid, shoving a sausage link into his mouth, biting off a chunk, chewing a bitand saying through it, “Not a marathon.”
“Oh.Right,” I muttered, standing at the side of the island.
