submission.”
“For your sake, I hope you have a safe word,” I said. Riley shook his head, flipping me off.
“Amazing,” Shannon breathed, brushing tears away from her eyes. “I had no idea you could find a dominatrix—one busy getting her doctorate in Russian history—at a deli. I just assumed it was more complex than ordering the same sandwich. Like a secret portal on eHarmony.”
“Let me ask you something,” Sam said, his laughter barely restrained. “In that kind of relationship, does she provide the strap-on, or do you have to get it yourself? And are you responsible for cleaning it, too?”
“Fucking asshat,” Riley murmured while the table erupted into another round of laughter.
“I’m fascinated. Truly. I’m not ragging on you. Does she have her own ball gags, or does she just cram your boxers in your mouth?” Sam asked.
“You all think you’re so fucking funny,” Riley seethed.
“You’re precious, RISD,” Shannon said. “I can’t wait to meet this chick.”
“You can bet your balls that isn’t happening, Shannon,” he said.
“Think of it this way, Riley,” Sam said. “They used to do this to me.”
“And the difference between you and me,” Riley retorted, waving his hands between him and Sam. “Is that you deserve it.”
“All right…” Shannon pulled an envelope from her bag. “With that delightful story on the books, it’s time to open these bad boys.”
“Should we call Erin and put her on speaker, or try to Skype?” I asked.
Shannon sat back and twisted her lips into an angry snarl.
“Yeah…about that. Erin emailed me last night. She’s back in the Azores and collecting samples of soil or rocks or something. There are a lot of volcanoes but not so much cell service,” Matt said. “She said we should go ahead without her.”
“Like I said,” Shannon muttered. “If it was important to her…”
The humor lighting the room dissolved, and everyone looked remarkably more sober. Sensing the gravity of the moment, Lauren stood and refilled the wine glasses. I noticed full bottles of whiskey in their kitchen, and knew we’d at least have liquor to soften the blows.
Yeah, that sounded about as healthy and well adjusted as it felt.
Lauren shifted to leave the table, but Matt shook his head, his arm wrapping around her waist while he hauled her into his lap. “Stay.”
“Ready?” Shannon asked, her fingers primed on the envelope. We nodded in agreement, and the whistling rip of the paper punctuated the silence. Shannon glanced at the cover sheet before holding up six smaller envelopes. “We each get a copy. The last page requires a signature acknowledging you read and understood the enclosed documents, and they have to be filed within thirty days of receipt.”
Once the envelopes were distributed, we continued to stare at each other, no one wanting to open first.
Sam tossed his envelope to the center of the table, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. In the two months since he and Angus had it out, he was no better at concealing his fury than he was in November. I studied him from across the table. This could be the night he cracked. It was going to happen. Sooner or later, Sam was going to unhinge.
All his life, Sam was a few degrees left of center. My mother said he’d be a late bloomer, and we all needed to look out for him, and she was right.
He was frequently sick and never strayed far from my mother’s side. He was smaller than kids his own age, and was often mistaken as Riley’s fraternal twin despite the two years between them.
He never fit in at school, and struggled with anxiety and crippling panic attacks after her death. He was a prime target for teasing, and kids loved to call him gay. He skipped a grade to avoid being stranded in middle school without Matt, but that only meant he wasn’t bullied in front of Matt.
Kids can be evil, and they terrorized him.
Angus knew all of this, and he knew exactly which buttons
“For your sake, I hope you have a safe word,” I said. Riley shook his head, flipping me off.
“Amazing,” Shannon breathed, brushing tears away from her eyes. “I had no idea you could find a dominatrix—one busy getting her doctorate in Russian history—at a deli. I just assumed it was more complex than ordering the same sandwich. Like a secret portal on eHarmony.”
“Let me ask you something,” Sam said, his laughter barely restrained. “In that kind of relationship, does she provide the strap-on, or do you have to get it yourself? And are you responsible for cleaning it, too?”
“Fucking asshat,” Riley murmured while the table erupted into another round of laughter.
“I’m fascinated. Truly. I’m not ragging on you. Does she have her own ball gags, or does she just cram your boxers in your mouth?” Sam asked.
“You all think you’re so fucking funny,” Riley seethed.
“You’re precious, RISD,” Shannon said. “I can’t wait to meet this chick.”
“You can bet your balls that isn’t happening, Shannon,” he said.
“Think of it this way, Riley,” Sam said. “They used to do this to me.”
“And the difference between you and me,” Riley retorted, waving his hands between him and Sam. “Is that you deserve it.”
“All right…” Shannon pulled an envelope from her bag. “With that delightful story on the books, it’s time to open these bad boys.”
“Should we call Erin and put her on speaker, or try to Skype?” I asked.
Shannon sat back and twisted her lips into an angry snarl.
“Yeah…about that. Erin emailed me last night. She’s back in the Azores and collecting samples of soil or rocks or something. There are a lot of volcanoes but not so much cell service,” Matt said. “She said we should go ahead without her.”
“Like I said,” Shannon muttered. “If it was important to her…”
The humor lighting the room dissolved, and everyone looked remarkably more sober. Sensing the gravity of the moment, Lauren stood and refilled the wine glasses. I noticed full bottles of whiskey in their kitchen, and knew we’d at least have liquor to soften the blows.
Yeah, that sounded about as healthy and well adjusted as it felt.
Lauren shifted to leave the table, but Matt shook his head, his arm wrapping around her waist while he hauled her into his lap. “Stay.”
“Ready?” Shannon asked, her fingers primed on the envelope. We nodded in agreement, and the whistling rip of the paper punctuated the silence. Shannon glanced at the cover sheet before holding up six smaller envelopes. “We each get a copy. The last page requires a signature acknowledging you read and understood the enclosed documents, and they have to be filed within thirty days of receipt.”
Once the envelopes were distributed, we continued to stare at each other, no one wanting to open first.
Sam tossed his envelope to the center of the table, sitting back in his chair with his arms crossed. In the two months since he and Angus had it out, he was no better at concealing his fury than he was in November. I studied him from across the table. This could be the night he cracked. It was going to happen. Sooner or later, Sam was going to unhinge.
All his life, Sam was a few degrees left of center. My mother said he’d be a late bloomer, and we all needed to look out for him, and she was right.
He was frequently sick and never strayed far from my mother’s side. He was smaller than kids his own age, and was often mistaken as Riley’s fraternal twin despite the two years between them.
He never fit in at school, and struggled with anxiety and crippling panic attacks after her death. He was a prime target for teasing, and kids loved to call him gay. He skipped a grade to avoid being stranded in middle school without Matt, but that only meant he wasn’t bullied in front of Matt.
Kids can be evil, and they terrorized him.
Angus knew all of this, and he knew exactly which buttons
Similar Books
