Thoughts of his two lovers had the need to see them, to touch them making him jog to LJ’s car. He couldn’t wait to be with them, yet the thought of LJ knowing sent him into a tailspin.
I’m a hypocritical asshole.
CHAPTER THIRTY-FOUR
TYPICALLY, GIRLS’ NIGHT consisted of booze, gossip, sex stories, sugar, and raucous laughter. Tonight, none of that happened. Not so much as a giggle, or hell, barely even a smile from any of the tough-as-nails sisterhood.
They’d all tried, showing up in cutsie pajamas with these phony smiles plastered on their faces, and their bottles of wine. Hell, Holly even brought six types of cookies. Nervous baking as she’d confessed as soon as the men had left. She’d been on her own for the past few nights while LJ did…whatever it was the club had asked of him.
Turns out, they’d all had the same plan: play along for the sake of the guys. Last thing they needed while doing whatever super-secret shit they were doing was to worry about their ol’ ladies. The moment all the men left, each woman began their own stress induced rituals. Shell had been pacing in front of her television on and off for the last few hours. Some sitcom played in the background with the volume so low, no one even seemed to realize the TV was on. Toni sat with a notebook, supposedly brainstorming new menu items for the diner. In reality she alternated between chewing the end of the pen and tapping it on her leg while the page remained blank. Chloe was knitting or trying to learn to knit. She had a blob of yarn growing unevenly as she cursed at it. Stephanie surfed her phone, the quietest of the group which was unusual for her. Holly tried to get everyone to eat, but they all must have had the same stomachache Jazz did, because no one took so much as a bite. The only one in any state of relaxation was Izzy who’d passed out an hour ago after putting baby Joy to sleep in a pack-n-play in Shell’s spare room. The poor new mom was so exhausted, she’d probably be asleep if the zombie apocalypse was occurring outside.
Jazz spent most of the time watching her friends. Her mind ran in too many circles to concentrate on one task or even play around on her phone. A huge part of her was tempted to blurt out her arrangement with Screw and Gumby just so they would know she deserved to share in their worries.
“Enough is enough,” Shell blurted, sometime near midnight.
Though her eyes felt heavy and her body fatigued, Jazz was pretty sure she wouldn’t get a wink of sleep all night. Instead, with the amount of adrenalin pumping through her system, she could probably go out and run five miles without breaking a sweat.
“We need to do something to take our minds off this. We’re driving ourselves freaking nuts here. Gimme a damn cookie.” She held her hand out to Holly who was lying with her legs hanging over the armrest of the couch. Shell’s flannel pjs with pink hearts made her look about seventeen.
“Oh, uh,” Holly scrambled to a seated position. She had flannel pjs as well, hers with various emojis. “Which one do you want?”
“Surprise me.” Shell tapped her foot and wiggled her fingers as she waited. Though her man was at the clubhouse and not with the rest of the guys, she was just as worried for her family as each of the ol’ ladies.
“Here.” Holly placed a giant chocolate cookie in her hand then sat back with an expectant look on her face.
“Thanks.” Without even looking to see what flavor she’d been gifted, Shell took a huge bite. A moan left her lips and she stared at the ceiling as though seeing God. “Oh. My. God. These are so freaking good, Hol.”
“They must be,” Stephanie said with a snort. “That one clearly gave you an orgasm.” Steph wore a Hell’s Handlers T-shirt with black sweats.
All the ladies cracked up and it was exactly what they needed to cut through the thick tension.
“You’re right, Shell,” Toni said, playing with a button on her buffalo plaid pajamas. “We need to try to be normal if only to pass time faster.”
Jazz sat forward. “Okay, I could use a cookiegasm. Give me one of those babies.”
The next hour passed quicker. They chatted, ate cookies, and only checked their phones once every five minutes instead of every sixty seconds as they’d been doing earlier in the evening.
“Guys,” Jazz said, picking up a cookie with white chocolate chunks and some kind of nut. “This is my last one. You hear me? She turned to Chloe who sat next to her on the couch. “If you see me reach for another one, you smack my hand. Hard.”