No surprise there.
That’s par for the course these days.
So yeah, in a faraway tone, one I’ve heard far too often lately, Brent muttered, “Sure, Aubs. Whatever you want to do is fine with me.”
Snickering, I resisted the urge to yell “sucker” as I snatched the Camaro keys and ran for the door.
And here we are.
Brent can rest easy, though, as I’m being super careful with his pride and joy, driving far below the speed limit and obeying all the laws.
I better be cautious, as I’m prone to mishaps.
I’m actually hoping this whole afternoon goes smoothly, especially the cake tasting Lainey and I are on our way to.
“Are you even listening to me, Aubrey?” Lainey huffs.
“Yes, of course I am,” I reply, even though that’s only half true.
“Then why aren’t you saying anything back?” she whines.
“Uh, I don’t know,” I mutter.
Snidely, Lainey says, “Could it be that you agree with me?”
I snort, “On the wedding planner thing? No way. We had one of those in the beginning, and she and I couldn’t agree on anything. I’m far too hands-on to involve anyone else in my process.”
Typical Lainey shoots back, “I bet Brent likes that hands-on part, especially when you’re that way with him.”
“Ha ha ha.” I roll my eyes. “You always go there, don’t you? It’s always sex, sex, sex with you, Lain. You’re such a perv.”
Outraged, she exclaims, “Like you’re not, Miss Area 51?”
Ah, she does have a point there.
I am the one who passed out several green glowing Area 51 sex toys to a bevy of hockey girlfriends and wives recently.
Distracted by images of my favorite glowy sex device, I lose track of where we are and almost miss the turn.
“Oh, shit,” I grind out as I cut hard right, sending the Camaro’s tires spinning like a mofo.
We fishtail left and right, and Lainey grumbles, “You do know Brent will kill you if you wreck his car.”
I straighten us out and resume driving. “Would you just shut it already?” I snap. “We’re fine.”
“Barely,” Lainey coughs out.
I growl over at her.
A beat later, turning serious, she says, “I only mention it, Aubs, because you know I’m right. Brent is crazy in love with this Camaro. He only bought it like what? Two months ago?”
“Yes, Lainey, that’s true. And I’m all too aware of how he babies this thing. And of how much he adores it. It was supposed to be his good luck charm for the playoffs, remember?”
Lainey cracks up. “Yeah, that sure didn’t work out too well, huh?”
“Don’t act so smug,” I chastise. “Nolan lost out too when the Wolves exited the playoffs early.”
Sighing, Lainey agrees, “Yes, that’s true. And speaking of my husband, you and Brent could have gone with a quickie wedding like we did. It all went down so quickly that it turned out to be pretty much stress-free.”