I grabbed the note and pulled it out of the little envelope.
Good morning, beautiful.
Did you know that French fry bouquets aren’t a thing? I’ll keep working on that. Meanwhile, breakfast and flowers will have to do. Thinking of you.
-Ryan
What the hellwas he up to? I mean, it wasn’t like I was going to let the food go to waste. Still, I didn’t trust it. I had his little twelve-step plan. I’d catch on to the rest of his game sooner or later.
My eyes moved to the silver bucket that held a bottle of champagne. A carafe of deep red juice sat beside it. That’s when I realized it wasn’t champagne.
It was sparkling rosé.
Ryan had given me the fixings for pink mimosas.
I snagged the latte, desperate for the hit of caffeine before I downed a mimosa. This kind of Machiavellianism needed a group dissection.
I grabbed my phone and the French toast and summoned the group chat.
Me
SOS.
Whitney
Is this a DEFCON situation like when Wander fucked Jack for the first time? I don’t remember the number scale of severity.
Wander
Five is normal, one is critical. Is there a scale with an SOS?
Me
For the love of Jane Austen, look.
I sent them a snapshot of the breakfast spread, flowers, and note.
Me
What’s his angle? This isn’t in the twelve-step program.
The phone chimed with an incoming call. Whitney was the first to appear on screen with the bustling bakery behind her. Wander joined mid-yawn and wiggled deeper into her bed.
“Please tell me Jack is not naked beside you and you called us mid-fuck,” I said. “I’m happy for you guys. I love you guys. But I do not need it rubbed in my face that I’m the only one not getting laid and won’t be getting laid for the next three months.”
Wander snickered. “Jack’s on duty today. He left to head to the station an hour ago. But if your bed is feeling lonely, you could always sleep with Ryan. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
Whitney had a serious look on her face. “I can’t tell if Ryan would fuck like an absolute animal or if he would think he’s doing a great job and he’s really just rubbing some poor girl’s labia raw.”
Wander yawned. “I’m going with ‘fucks like an animal.’”
“Me too. He seems like he’d take his time,” Whitney agreed.
I didn’t want to chime in that I, too, thought Ryan would fuck like a god. That would give the girls way too much ammunition, even if the jokes were kept private.
And there was the fact that I didn’t want to admit that notion to myself.
“That French toast looks so good,” Whitney said as she studied the picture. “I wonder if I could have the pie shop make a French toast pie.”
