Pucked Up (Pucked 2)

Vi barks out a laugh. “Hardly. I’m like a coming machine. I can have, like, eighteen orgasms in a row. It’s awesome.”

Girls don’t realize how good they have it. Unless I learn Tantra, I’m good for a max of six a day, and that’s spread out over a twenty-four-hour period. “So if you didn’t lie about orgasms, what did you lie about?”

“You’re sure you want to know?”

Vi has a tendency to overshare and say exactly what’s on her mind at any given time. If she’s censored herself, it has to be bad, which makes me want to know even more. “I’m sure.”

“Once I lied about my level of leakiness.”

“Leakiness?”

“Leakiness.”

“What does that even mean?” I regret the question as soon as I ask it.

“How wet I get.”

I gag. “Shit, Vi. I didn’t need that information.”

“I told you you didn’t want to know, but you wouldn’t listen. It’s not my fault I’m a naturally lubey person.”

“Okay. Enough. I don’t want to hear any more. Sunny wouldn’t lie about her lack of orgasms. She looked way surprised every time I gave her one.”

“Maybe that’s her O face.”

I might agree if Sunny’s reaction to me going down on her had been different. “I also gave her first orgasm by mouth and her first sex-gasm, so there’s my hat trick. It totally kicks Waters’ fake hat trick’s ass, right?”

Once, a long time ago, a rumor circulated that Waters had slept with three different chicks in one night. It wasn’t true, but it caused a shitload of issues for him when Vi found out about it. Eventually he set things straight, and it ended up being a prime example of how the media can twist information.

“You do realize you called to brag about bagging my fiancé’s sister, right? Super classy, Buck. Who else have you told?”

“No one. I called you because I can’t tell anyone else. And I didn’t bag her; we had sex. Lots of it. All over the damn house. Believe me, if I could talk to anyone other than you, I would, but I can’t. So fuck you, Vi. I’m oversharing. You do it all the time.”

She sighs. “I guess you have a point, and I’d rather you tell me than one of your hockey buddies. Those guys have big mouths. So obviously Sunny forgave you for being relationship-challenged.”

“Yeah. She got over it.” That’s not one-hundred-percent truth, though, considering where she is right now versus where I’d like her to be.

“That’s good. I’m glad. So I’m taking it your weekend’s been good?” Crunching follows.

It could be cereal. Or chips. I’m hungry. “It was up until an hour ago.”

“What happened?” She doesn’t immediately throw the blame at me.

“So you know how all those bunny pictures got me into trouble in the first place.”

“I’m familiar, yes.”

Vi’s disapproval is obvious from her tone. I’m glad this is a phone conversation. “Well, I guess Lily, Sunny’s bitchy bestie, found out about them—”

“That shouldn’t be a surprise.”

“Yeah, well, Lily doesn’t like me much. She convinced Sunny to go on a camping trip way up north, like, super far away. They left right before I called you.”

“You have to go to Muskoka today anyway, don’t you?” There’s more crunching. My stomach growls. That cinnamon bun didn’t cut it, no matter how delicious it was.

“Yeah, but I would’ve had the entire day with her. Plus it’s not just Lily and Sunny going. Lily’s boyfriend is coming and so is his bearded hipster-twin, Kale.”

“I think bearded hipster is redundant. Don’t all hipsters have beards?” Vi snickers. “Wait. Kale? Why is that name familiar?”

“Because it’s a vegetable?”

“Maybe. Does he spell it with a K or C?”

“Who cares what he spells it with? He’s ultra granola with crunchy green turds in it. And he dated Sunny in high school. And now they’re camping together this whole week.”

“Oh.” She chews loudly for several seconds, maybe processing. “Did you meet him?”

“Yup. They all showed up at the house this morning, right after Robbie and Daisy came home early.” I roll down the window and recline the seat. A girl in running shorts and a sports bra jogs by with her dog. I don’t even check her out.

“Was everything okay with the ’rents?” Vi’s well aware of how protective Sunny’s parents are.

“It was mostly fine. Sunny didn’t tell them I was coming to visit. They almost walked in on us getting it on. Robbie knows I spent the weekend. He had the neighbors watching the place.”

“Oh, shit.”

“Surprisingly, he didn’t seem too upset. But he gave me the ‘don’t fuck with my daughter’ talk.” Now that I think about it, it seems like Sunny might have purposely forgotten to mention my visit, considering we planned it last time I came to see her. It makes sense if she did it to make sure we had the house to ourselves; otherwise all the sexing wouldn’t have happened.