Hot Summer Nights (Lucas Brothers)

“Gee, Mags, that’s awful nice of you to decide things unilaterally. So, what was supposed to happen in this scenario you dreamed up in your head? Was I just supposed to find another woman to love heart and soul? That wouldn’t have bothered you, baby? Because I’ve got to tell you that it fucking killed me to see you going out with other men. What was supposed to happen if you actually fell for one of those losers?”

“Oh my God! How could I? When I was still in love with you!”

“Yet you expected me to, baby, and I’ve always told you how much I love you. That isn’t something that’s going to change!” I growl.

“It might have if you had given it a chance! Besides, did you see the guys I picked to date?”

“See them? I hated them. I wanted to kill them. I even slammed my fist into the face of a couple.”

“I… You did?”

“Damn straight, and they’re lucky that’s all they got.”

“Why would you do that?”

“Why?” I ask, exasperated.

“Why?” she asks again, shaking her head like I’m insane, and she’s starting to make me feel like I am—like we both are. Ida Sue is right. It’s way past time that I grew some balls and put an end to this song and dance that we’ve been doing for way too fucking long. Maybe I’ve had my head buried in the sand just as bad as Maggie has and it’s just been easier to blame her? Clearly, that can’t keep happening.

Things have to change.

“Because you’re mine, Maggie. You belong to me. You’ve been mine in one way or another since we were in fucking elementary school. You aren’t there for other men to want, to touch, to talk about. You. Are. Mine.”

“You sound insane,” she mutters. “Besides, I only dated complete losers, and I did that for a reason, Bryant.”

“You dated losers to make me date other women in hopes I’d fall in love with them and move on with my life, but you love me ? You say all that shit and you think I’m the one that sounds insane?” I growl, unable to believe what I’m hearing. I toss the remote off the couch, wishing I had one of Maggie’s supposed dates here because I sure have enough frustration built up that I could pound their faces pretty fucking good right now. The remote-control slams against the wall and I see a piece fly one direction while the majority falls to the ground.

“I can’t believe you did that. We’re going to have to pay Titan for a new remote now!”

“Ask me if I give a fuck, Maggie!”

The slamming against the wall must have changed the settings on the remote because you can hear the porno movie now, and besides the cheesy music, you can hear the woman squealing. My eyes go to the movie on reflex just in time to see Mr. Snuffleupagus grab the chick with big ass tits and hold her while another guy rips her dress from her body.

“Why are all these chicks naked under their dresses? That’s not real life, you know. No one actually does that,” Maggie grumbles.

“Too bad,” I mutter, thinking having Maggie naked under a dress could come in handy in public when I want to touch her and tease her.

“Whoa,” she gasps, ignoring my remark.

“Holy shit,” I add, when I look to see what she’s talking about.

“Holy birds nests, Batman, that woman needs a razor,” she mumbles.

“I’ve heard the term hairy bushes before, but I don’t think I’ve ever seen one quite that…”

“Bushy?”

“Yeah…”

“Holy shit,” Maggie adds, sounding completely amazed and if I took the time to think about it, I guess I am, too.

“Mr. Snuffleupagus for the win, I guess,” I answer.

“Looks like I owe you ten dollars,” Maggie agrees as the man on the screen slides all the way home. At least the blonde has a reason to be screaming like she is…

22

Maggie

“This is nice,” I murmur, snuggling my head against Bryant’s chest and holding him close. He has his arm around me, his fingers pressing against my back lovingly. The bedroom is dark, the ceiling fan above us the only sound. Its soft whirring noise is somehow relaxing. We have the window beside the bed open and we can hear the crickets singing outside. Bryant’s fingers are gently sifting through my hair and I can hear his steady heartbeat in his chest underneath my ear, and I feel safe…

“It is,” he agrees.

“What are you thinking?” I prompt him when he doesn’t say anything else.

Actually, if I think about it, Bryant has been quiet since my small blow up earlier. I worry I was too honest, that I said too much. He doesn’t seem mad, though. I don’t think he’s upset, either, because he’s still holding me close. I probably should have tried to keep control of myself. I’d be lying if I didn’t admit that it felt good to finally tell Bryant everything I’ve been holding in—well, part of what I was holding in.