I roll my eyes.
“That’s a little dramatic. Zeke is not interested in me, and for the last time, I don’t want to fuck my brother-in-law.” I cross my arms and try to get the point across. Ever since we found out Zeke is Ashia’s brother, Carter’s been cracking jokes about ‘having the best of both worlds’ and the thought of touching someone other than my wife disgusts me.
“Doesn’t meanhedoesn’t want to fuckyou,” he cackles, and as muchfunas this conversation is, thinking about holding Zeke in my arms instead of Ashia is not on my list of happy thoughts.
“Well, I’ll just go tell Alex about the meeting then.” I turn to walk back out of Carter’s office, when he shakes his head and laughs so hard he can barely breathe.
“Come on, D. Lighten up. Show me,” he hisses as he tries to control the laughter bursting out of him. I just shake my head back at him and pull my t-shirt over my head.
“You two have got to stop busting each other’s balls.”
“Hey! All of you bastards joked about my virginity foryears. The least I can do is pull Zeke’s chain for taking dick. In a loving, best friend kind of way, of course.”
I roll my eyes again. None of us have any issues with Zeke being bisexual. He just so happened to make it worse with his own jokes about a special night with Alex and his wife, Trina. Did it actually happen? I mean, I can imagine it, but I’ve never asked questions.
“I think he’s the giver, not the receiver, but I could be wrong,” I point out as I take off the tape around the new ink on my chest. Carter just chuckles, and then once I finally take the wrapping off, he shuts up. It’s weird how that one area of skin can breathe again now that it doesn’t have a covering, but the air conditioning whips over the red, raised skin in a relieving caress.
After wiping the dribbled blood and ointment away, I finally look back at Carter’s face. His eyes have actually softened some, and he has this approving smirk at the corner of his lips.
“She’s going to love that.”
“You think?” I ask in a somewhat nervous tone. She’s loved everything else I’ve had tattooed on my body, but this is different. Plus, I did it without asking her first. But, in my defense, it’sforher. So, I couldn’t show her and say ‘what do you think?’ It’ssupposedto be a surprise.
“Hell yeah, man. She might even cry.”
Oh, shit. I didn’t even think of that.
“In a good way, right?”
Carter just shrugs.
“I don’t know, man. Pregnant women cry over everything. She’ll probably sobbecauseshe loves it, but also because you covered up more of yourdreamybody,” he teases once again. I just shake my head and lean on his desk. This big piece needs some time to air out, and I’ve got awhile before Ashia gets home from her ‘best friend date.’ “Her tattoo artist did that?”
“Yeah. He agreed not to post anything until I told him that she saw it.”
He puckers his bottom lip just a little and nods while he looks a little closer.
“Remind me to go to that guy when I finally get one.”
“Sure. You going to get Serena’s name next?” I tease, but the moment I finish the sentence, he shuts me down.
“So, how did it go with Grease?” he says pointedly, like he wouldn’t answer my question for anything in the world. I stare at him for a second to try and decipher what that could mean.
Carter is one of my best friends, but living with both himandSerena for those first couple of weeks of recovery was hell. I mean,literal hell. She did nothing but give sly, back-handed comments towards him, and when she finally softened, he was too agitated to notice. So, he pushed back at the wrong times, and the cycle continued over again. I swear those two love to pine after one another as much as they love to hate one another. Thank God Serena went back to her own apartment eventually.
“Not great.” I try to focus back on his diversion. Carter pulls up the file we have on the MC and starts recording our conversation to keep records of everything.
“Why not? I thought that was going well?”
“It was, but Viking was there this time and certainly wasn’t happy to see me.”
Carter’s head tilts, and his eyes narrow with dumbfounded tightness.
“He forced your wife into an ongoing gun fight. What the hell is he mad at you for?”
“He’s mad that I shot him.”
“You could’ve killed him.”
