Rolling my eyes, I grip the gear shifter. I need to get away from this conversation while I can, while I still have some sense about me. “I need to get going.”
A look flickers through his eyes as he pushes away from my car. It’s not going to be that easy. “Have it your way,” he says, a huge smile on his face.
“See you, Landry. And thanks for the orgasm.”
He laughs. “The pleasure was all mine. Well, not really, but it was worth it.”
With a shake of my head, I pull my door closed and put the car in reverse. I back out and drive away, sneaking one final glance at the sexy man standing in the parking lot, watching me leave.
Lincoln
MY PHONE BUZZES THROUGH THE Bluetooth as I take a right onto the freeway. It interrupts the hip-hop station with its shrill ring that tells me it’s Graham.
I press the button on the steering wheel. “Hey, G!”
“Why do you sound so chipper?”
“Chipper? I’m not sure that’s the right word,” I laugh. “What’s up?”
“Just calling to check on your shoulder. Dad said he tried to call you earlier today and you didn’t answer.”
“I sent him to voicemail,” I crack.
“Ballsy,” he laughs.
I shrug. “Yeah, well, I have to be in the right frame of mind to talk to him. You know how we are.”
“Oil and water?”
“Nah, not that bad. Maybe more like Cardinals and Cubs.”
He laughs. “Always the baseball reference.”
“Hey, you reference what you know. Baseball is what I know.”
“Speaking of which, how’s the shoulder?”
“I’ll put it to you like this,” I say, weaving in and out of traffic before hitting my exit, “my shoulder feels fanfuckingtastic right now.”
Graham sighs into the phone. I can hear the dread in it, and I know he’s rolling through a million scenarios as to why I’m not giving him a play-by-play of my pain this evening. He probably thinks I’ve resorted to drugs. Fucker.
“Care to elaborate?” he asks.
“She was so fucking wet,” I say, strumming my fingertips on the wheel. “And when she came, her pussy clamped down on my fingers like it was a vice grip. I can only imagine what that would feel like on my cock.”
“I should’ve known . . .”
“Tell the truth—you were sure I was on dope or something, huh?”
“With you, Linc, I’m never sure about anything.”
“Which is why you love me. Barrett and Ford are boring. I keep you entertained.”
“Hey, speaking of Barrett, he’s headed to Tennessee in a few days. There’s some convention . . . I can’t remember the day, and I’m driving so I can’t pull up the calendar. He’ll be in Tennessee just overnight. He was mentioning that he wanted to try to see you while he was in the area.”
“Is he bringing Alison?” I joke.
Graham snorts and then strings a slew of profanities about someone not using a turn signal. He takes a few seconds to gather himself before he comes back on the line.