What he needs is action. Somewhere to channel his energy outside of his head. Time to give those spinning wheels a break.
"But none of that really matters." I say as I brush my fingers off and settle myself into the brilliant plan I just concocted.
"Why not?" Crosby asks with a few extra blinks.
"Because my boy is in love!" I cheer. The condition isn’t for me, but I’m supportive-ish when my buddies find it. And maybe if I can be a part of this he won’t completely desert me for his baby mama. "The rest is just logistics."
I pull my phone out of my back pocket and send a text to the reality show producer I met up in New York a few days before going to Scotland last month.
Aye, Matey! That feels like a freaking lifetime ago.
In the weeks since I've been back, I've learned Crosby is going to be a dad, Bryson has ordered even more twinkle lights for his proposal to Jo, and Emmett has narrowed down the best pair of boxer briefs to two styles.
He plans on wet testing them at Felix's Fourth of July party tomorrow.
LAKE BELMONT
Hello Lake - I need a small ear piece and microphone set so I can help a buddy with lines when he's speaking to a girl.
This is so problematic.
C'mon, you're a romcom girlie at heart. I just know it.
If I had a heart, maybe.
What if I could get you an in for a behind the scenes look at Rhys Reid who is developing his next album.
What would I say if that were real?
Pretend it's real.
I'd say I'll ship the equipment to you today and expect to be introduced to him tomorrow.
I'll send you my address in a minute and let me confirm with Mr. Reid.
My mouth waters a little thinking of calling Rhys "Mr. Reid" at some point. In the last month I have pulled our text thread up countless times but without either of us being in the other’s city, there’s no point in texting.
What would I even say?
Hi?
Lame.
I wonder if any of my teammates had to cold text their partners. How did they know what to say?
No point in wondering, I’m not Rhys’s partner. He’s not mine. We’re gonna hook up when we can. That’s it.
Moving on.
"So, you good man?" I ask my buddy now that the wheels are in motion.
"Not even close, but yeah, better." Crosby says as he flops into his sofa.
"Wanna play Scrabble?" I ask as I sit on the far corner of the L-shape.
"Sure." He pulls the board from under the coffee table and we get set up.
Before play begins I send off a quick text because I am a man of my word and if Lake is going to hook me up I need to at least try.
