him. Does this mean he’s interested in me?
Or was that just a really blindingly luscious kiss? I can’t
possibly break off my engagement with Creed over an awesome kiss,
that would moronic. Right? I’ve been engaged for almost a year,
we’re coming into the final home stretch, and now this. I’m weeks
away…yeah, weeks. My bachelorette party is this weekend at my
mountain cabin, and the only guys invited are Scout and
Striker.
What exactly is the protocol on kissing
one’s very best friend when you are both with someone else?
“So you did all of this for me as an apology
for that kiss?”
“Yes, darling girl, I did. I’ve never in all
our years seen you so damn mad. Never. I mean, you were for sure
pissed that I screwed Roxanne in high school, but even that was
something you glossed over. Do you accept my apology? I have some
presents to twist your little arm.”
“Show me the goods…and maybe I’ll forgive
you.”
“Put out your hand,” he tells me, and I put
my non-ring hand up to his face. “This is a promise ring,” he said.
“I promise to never hurt you like that again. I mean, I might fuck
up once in a while, but I won’t do anything ever again unless you
pinky swear me first or you ask me to, okay?”
“Okay, that’s…well…that’s putting a lot on
me, isn’t it?”
“Well, I think it has to be that way. You’re
engaged to be married in a few weeks. I’m coming to your
bachelorette party to eat cake in the shape of a cock and shit like
that. I’m kind of in between a rock and a hard place.”
“That’s a lot to think about. In not a lot
of time.” I’m eyeing the plastic bauble on my hand, flashing it
about like a girl does when she just gets engaged.
“Do you still want me to come to your
bachelorette party? You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t. I
already botched up your fitting day. The last thing I want is to
mess that up, too. Would you rather it just be you and the
girls?”
“No! I want you there.” My legs are snugged
up on his lap, his hands just under my bottom. I crash my shoulder
into him a few times to make my point. “You’re my best friend; you
have to come! Please don’t back out. We were going to drive there
together to set up and stuff—I don’t want to do that alone. Please
come.”
“Yeah, of course I will. I’ll do whatever
you want me to, okay, boss?”
“Please…more mac-n-cheese.” I love when he
feeds me. I love that I’m in his lap, eating his mac-n-cheese,
wearing his promise ring. I love it until I look down to see my
hand—with my engagement ring staring back at me—resting on my
wedding dress. I slide it under my leg. I know he sees me do it.
It’s just I can’t have that big thing glaring at me while I’m
enjoying this…way too much.
“These things are for you.” He puts a little
stash of plastic gumball-machine bubbles into my lap as he
continues to give me overly ample bits of mac-n-cheese, licking off
the bits that fall to the side of my lips, washing me with his
tongue.
“Wanna do another shot?” I ask while opening
my first plastic bubble.
“Me? Hell yeah. Why do you think I brought
the whole bottle? I wasn’t sure how much lubing up I’d have to do
to win you back.”
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“I’d call you a bitch, but…”
“But you know when you call me a bitch it
makes me wet.”
“Your words, not mine. I know that’s your
bumper sticker and all…”
“Oh, fun—stretchy handcuffs…we’re hooked for
life.” I love him. What can I say? I always have. So here I am.
More than a little bit lost.
“Hooked. Yes…forever, Tess. I promise you,”
he says it with a bit of trepidation, a sad lilt in his voice. I
don’t know how to read him. Does he want me to get married? Do I
ask him how he really feels about it? Why can we talk about
everything but this? He would never tell me not to, he just
wouldn’t. But, he’s also waited pretty much forever to kiss me and
really, in my
Or was that just a really blindingly luscious kiss? I can’t
possibly break off my engagement with Creed over an awesome kiss,
that would moronic. Right? I’ve been engaged for almost a year,
we’re coming into the final home stretch, and now this. I’m weeks
away…yeah, weeks. My bachelorette party is this weekend at my
mountain cabin, and the only guys invited are Scout and
Striker.
What exactly is the protocol on kissing
one’s very best friend when you are both with someone else?
“So you did all of this for me as an apology
for that kiss?”
“Yes, darling girl, I did. I’ve never in all
our years seen you so damn mad. Never. I mean, you were for sure
pissed that I screwed Roxanne in high school, but even that was
something you glossed over. Do you accept my apology? I have some
presents to twist your little arm.”
“Show me the goods…and maybe I’ll forgive
you.”
“Put out your hand,” he tells me, and I put
my non-ring hand up to his face. “This is a promise ring,” he said.
“I promise to never hurt you like that again. I mean, I might fuck
up once in a while, but I won’t do anything ever again unless you
pinky swear me first or you ask me to, okay?”
“Okay, that’s…well…that’s putting a lot on
me, isn’t it?”
“Well, I think it has to be that way. You’re
engaged to be married in a few weeks. I’m coming to your
bachelorette party to eat cake in the shape of a cock and shit like
that. I’m kind of in between a rock and a hard place.”
“That’s a lot to think about. In not a lot
of time.” I’m eyeing the plastic bauble on my hand, flashing it
about like a girl does when she just gets engaged.
“Do you still want me to come to your
bachelorette party? You won’t hurt my feelings if you don’t. I
already botched up your fitting day. The last thing I want is to
mess that up, too. Would you rather it just be you and the
girls?”
“No! I want you there.” My legs are snugged
up on his lap, his hands just under my bottom. I crash my shoulder
into him a few times to make my point. “You’re my best friend; you
have to come! Please don’t back out. We were going to drive there
together to set up and stuff—I don’t want to do that alone. Please
come.”
“Yeah, of course I will. I’ll do whatever
you want me to, okay, boss?”
“Please…more mac-n-cheese.” I love when he
feeds me. I love that I’m in his lap, eating his mac-n-cheese,
wearing his promise ring. I love it until I look down to see my
hand—with my engagement ring staring back at me—resting on my
wedding dress. I slide it under my leg. I know he sees me do it.
It’s just I can’t have that big thing glaring at me while I’m
enjoying this…way too much.
“These things are for you.” He puts a little
stash of plastic gumball-machine bubbles into my lap as he
continues to give me overly ample bits of mac-n-cheese, licking off
the bits that fall to the side of my lips, washing me with his
tongue.
“Wanna do another shot?” I ask while opening
my first plastic bubble.
“Me? Hell yeah. Why do you think I brought
the whole bottle? I wasn’t sure how much lubing up I’d have to do
to win you back.”
“It wasn’t that bad, was it?”
“I’d call you a bitch, but…”
“But you know when you call me a bitch it
makes me wet.”
“Your words, not mine. I know that’s your
bumper sticker and all…”
“Oh, fun—stretchy handcuffs…we’re hooked for
life.” I love him. What can I say? I always have. So here I am.
More than a little bit lost.
“Hooked. Yes…forever, Tess. I promise you,”
he says it with a bit of trepidation, a sad lilt in his voice. I
don’t know how to read him. Does he want me to get married? Do I
ask him how he really feels about it? Why can we talk about
everything but this? He would never tell me not to, he just
wouldn’t. But, he’s also waited pretty much forever to kiss me and
really, in my
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