Jase smacked Brek’s shoulder. “You’re right, man. She’s totally fuckable.”
“Dude.” Dean glared at Jase.
Velma’s heart stumbled inside her chest. She dropped her hands from her hips. “You did not just say that.”
“What? Am I not allowed to go there?” Jase asked.
“No.” Dean rubbed his forehead.
Brek dropped his elbows to his knees, controller dangling in hand. “Don’t say it in front of her. Hey, Velma, glad you’re home. Sorry dickhead here’s bein’ a dickhead.”
Velma opened her mouth to reply—with what, she had no idea—but Brek spoke first. “Jase, you owe money for the swear jar. Gotta pay to say ‘fuck’ around her.”
That was nowhere near what she was going to say.
Brek tossed his controller to the side and rose. He grabbed the beribboned jar from the counter and moved back to Mr. Cussy McCusserton.
Jase grudgingly tugged out his wallet. “You’ve been cussing all night.”
“I prepaid for the month,” Brek said seriously.
He had, and he wasn’t even trying to keep his potty mouth under control.
Jase shoved his wallet back into his pocket and winked at Velma. “Sorry if I offended. I’ll use a different compliment next time.”
“Using the f-bomb is never a compliment,” Velma replied.
“Whatever you say.” Jase pointed his finger at her and made a clicking sound with his tongue.
Brek moved the jar to Eli. “You, too.”
“What’d I say?” Eli lifted his shoulders in defiance.
“Not what you’ve said, but what’s gonna come out of your mouth at some point tonight.” Brek shook the jar so the dollars and change rattled.
Eli reluctantly dropped in a crisp ten-dollar bill. “Can I say she’s fuckable now that I paid?”
“No. No one says she’s fuckable.” Brek set the jar on the coffee table. “Dean, the jar’s here if you feel the urge to say ‘fuck.’”
“Noted.” Dean nodded.
“Brek’s the one who said it first.” Jase slipped off his shoes and set his feet on her ottoman.
“Did you really say I’m f-able?” Velma couldn’t hide the shock from her tone.
“I’ll take my Fifth Amendment privilege not to incriminate myself by answering.” Brek shifted uncomfortably. “What happened to your date, V?”
“He had to go to the hospital.” She evacuated from the television to the food table so they could continue burning brain cells with violent video games. She took a bite of Eli’s casserole. Artichokes and melted cream cheese. Oh man, it really was yummy.
“You sent a guy to the hospital?” Jase asked with what sounded like awe.
All four of them focused their attention on her.
“He’s a doctor. He got called in.” She dipped another tortilla chip, the homemade kind, into the pan.
Jase took a swig of his beer and set it on her end table—without a coaster. “Bummer. See, now, if I had a girl like you, I wouldn’t let anything call me away. Because, as Brek pointed out, you’re totally—”
“Dude.” Dean glared daggers at Jase.
