I don’t groan because that would be too obvious. Not as obvious as Zach drowning food in maple syrup—something he only does when he’s celebrating.
Not a win. Getting laid.
Pecan’s delight has him freezing mid-pour.
“You aiming for diabetes?” Callan dabs his tongue with another paper towel.
“That won’t work.” I tap his arm. “Having experienced this one too many times, you just have to drink more water and then eat something sweet for breakfast.”
“They did this toyou?”
When I nod, a slow smile curves his lips as he settles into the booth.
Relieved he picked up on what I was trying to tell him, Pecan asks, “Who’d you fuck, bro?”
“Why do these conversations have to happen when I’m around?” Callan wails. “My sisters-in-law always talk about their sex lives when I’m playing video games with them.”
Because that distracts Pecan, Zach finally stops pouring maple syrup onto his bacon and shoots me an apologetic look.
Picking up his fork, Pecan digs into a stack of pancakes. “What do they talk about?”
“Positions. Locations. You name it. I’ve heard it.”
“Why do they talk about it in front of you?”
“They like me, I guess?” He takes a sip of untainted water and gags before drinking some more. “I’m not sure what I did to deserve an honorary pair of traveling pants, but they make me work to keep them.”
“You’ve seen that movie?!” I gush.
“Yeah. Unfortunately. My sisters-in-law, Zee and Tee, made me watch it. Said it was a rite of passage.”
“Yeah, if you’re a teenage girl,” Pecan jeers.
“And what’s wrong with that, Peter Canard?” I grind out, earning a wide-eyed stare from the man in question.
He swallows hard then wheezes, “Nothing! Nothing at all.”
Callan chuckles. “Beware the use of the full name.”
“No one wields it like Denny. Not even my mom,” Pecan blurts out before changing the subject.Never let it be said he can’t be smart sometimes. “So, they talk about orgasms and shit? Or bras?”
Callan frowns. “Why would they talk about bras?”
“Pecan’s got a tit obsession.” Zach scrapes a strip of bacon through the deluge of syrup. “Remember when you wanted to jack off in the women’s section of JC Penney?”
Pecan punches him in the arm. “That was one time!”
“Public indecency is what it is,” Callan derides with a weather eye like Pecan’s hiding a Jason mask under his shirt. “Probably a few other minor offenses too, come to think of it. Were you being a peeping Tom?”
“Nah, he just liked all the lace.” Zach smirks as Pecan blushes. “Thankfully, he’s grown out of that phase, if not the obsession with—” At my unimpressed look, he course-corrects. “—mammary glands.”
“Not sure men ever grow out of that,” Callan retorts.
You guessed it—dreamily.
“Do we have to talk about tits over breakfast?” I nag.
Juniper arches a brow as she hands me my avocado toast and Callan’s poached egg on rye.
