It takes him a while to warm up.
It was terrifying. My penis has never felt so small.
Does your penis have anything to do with this sudden interest in cooking?
Leave it to Felix to hit the nail on the head.
You got it. Captain Longnstrong wants to start cooking.
I see.
Andre can send you a list. Or he can pull everything at the store and have you pick it up.
That sounds easier. Have him do the shopping.
Budget?
Whatever it takes.
***
"Big mistake. Huge." I mutter to myself as Bryson parks in my designated parking spot two days later.
Andre went fucking crazy.
I was surprised my card didn’t go up in smoke as I tapped it on the reader at the store. Behind me stood five store employees with bags piled high in shopping carts and a sixth with boxes stacked up on a hand cart.
"Dude? What did Andre get?" Bryson grunts with bags in his hands as I lean to hit the PH button with my elbow in the elevator. Whatever is in this box is heavy as fuck.
"The entire fucking store." I grumble. "I don’t even know where I’m going to put all this."
"You know who would be great at organizing it."
"Good idea." I say and nod to him. "When we drop this stuff off, text Jo and tell her to send the girls over ASAP."
Instead of waiting until he could get his phone out of his pocket upstairs, he says, "Hey Siri, call My Hot Fucking Fiancée."
I try not to roll my eyes.
She answers and Bryson gives her the summary.
"Hi baby." He croons.
"What do you need Bryson?"
"You, Killer." I clear my throat. "But, umm actually, can you text the girls?"
"Yeah, what’s going on."
"Duncan needs them to come over and help him organize his kitchen."
"Sure, when?"
"ASAP." I add from my corner of the elevator. "Hi Jo."
"Hey Dunc. I’ll text them as soon as we hang up."
"But I don’t wanna hang up." Bryson pouts.
