Dad Bod (Under Construction 1)
“I can find my own dates, fucker.”
“I know you can. I'm just snipping your wings now,” he replies, his fingers flying furiously across the screen. His phone rings in his pocket, and he quickly finishes typing and slides my phone across the table to me before fishing his phone out.
I stare down at the screen as the blood drains from my face.
“That was Mav. The girls are down at Nell’s on Congress Street, tearin’ the place up. Figured he’d let me haul 'em in before the cops do it with pretty bracelets.” He laughs.
I pick up my phone, glaring at the flashing notification light, completely mortified. I open the message and read over it once, twice, and again. Carter rambles on, and I hear his voice, the words jumbled and distorted.
“Let's go, Mad.” Carter snaps his fingers in front of my face.
“Shit, sorry. What'd you say?” I slide my phone in my pocket, shaking my head to clear it.
“Laney, Jo … we gotta go get them. Girls' night has hit a nuclear level.”
“Let's roll,” I say, not bothering to mention how quickly Carter's smooth talking may have scored me a date.
CHAPTER EIGHT
JORDAN
The devil may be standing in here somewhere. Not. Lying. It’s that hot in here tonight, and being in the middle of all these gyrating bodies on the dance floor doesn’t help either. Therefore, the heat combined with the fact that I have drank my weight in Long Island iced teas might have something to do with the fact that I’m sure I just saw Satan.
“Wooo! I like it like that,” comes from my left in a singsong voice. Erin, my sister, sings along with Cardi B and mimics her dance moves to the best of her ability. Bless her, not a rhythm in that child’s body. I fucking love my sister, I really do. I’m so glad she, along with my bestest friends make time to do girls’ night.
We have reached the point of the night, the all-important point that determines if we end up sleeping it off in Laney’s bonus room floor, or in the back of a cruiser. That is a totally true story, one I only like to tell when I’m drunk. And even though I’m beyond drunk right now, the flailing arms of my best friend Laney pulls at what little “mom” friend in me that hasn’t left the building. What the hell is she doing? Wait, is that a man … a man who isn’t Carter that she is dancing with? I squint, hoping the beer goggles has me seeing things, but fuck me runnin’, what in the fresh hell is she thinking!
This man is tall, very blond, and very much not her husband. This guy reeks of Richie Rich Tourist, looking for one night of love. All the way from his pink Polo, pressed jeans, and Sperry’s with no socks. Bless his heart, he’s trying, but he can’t move worth a lick, and my girl is straight up Beyoncé right now.
The DJ is blaring a remix of “Drunk in Love”, and Laney is all up on this guy as if he is Jay Z. Drunk brain gets me for a moment; I freaking love this song. Like really love this song. My body has a mind of its own as I start to move sensually to the beat before I get back on my train of thought, watching Laney under a careful glare. Let’s be honest, you have to be able to really move to dance to this song, and more than likely you’re going home with whoever is on the receiving end of the lap dance. Where in the hell did Laney learn to move like that? Girl has been holding out on me. Was she a stripper in a past life? This is definitely something we will be discussing, if I can remember it. Laney. What the fuuuuccckkk?
As I make a move toward the area where my very drunk best friend is still giving the Queen B a run for her money in dancing, the same sight catches the eyes of Erin and the remaining member of our Fearsome Foursome, Bryn.
“Is that?” Bryn starts to ask, but the words die on her tongue as another hot specimen comes up to Laney. The newcomer, this man, he is so sexy it’s sinful. Bryn, Erin, and I all are frozen, while those around us proceed to be drunk in love. This is 100% not beer induced; this man is sex in jeans. His light brown hair is cut so short it’s almost shaved, but there’s just enough left to run your fingers over. He’s dressed in a tight black t-shirt that showcases his chest. His very taut and thick chest. Damn. This shit ain’t even fair. Bitch is married, and she has two men all up on her. While reformed fat girl over here, her best friend, has cobwebs surrounding her girly bits.
Laney’s pink-wearing friend slinks away as we approach to intrude on the animated conversation she is now carrying on with the newcomer.
“Holy, master of vaginas,” Bryn huffs, “is he real?”
My sister’s response, “Uhhh … ummmm.”
We are close enough now that I can make out his features, and even with my alcohol-induced goggles on I would know that smirk. Fucking Maverick.
“Yep,” I huff to Erin and Bryn, “he’s real. A real piece of work.” Shaking my head, I walk on up to him just in time to hear Laney say, “Back the fuck off, playboy! It’s not as though we were having sex. We were just dancing.”
Holding his hands up and taking a step back, Maverick shakes his head. “Didn’t say you were doing anything wrong, Lan, just didn’t want Pink Punk gettin’ too handsy with you, that’s all.” As he finishes his sentence, he notices our approach and gives us the guy nod as he proceeds to shamelessly check each of us out from head to toe, stopping the longest on Bryn. He gives her his signature cocksure smile. Oy! I do not seeing this end well. At all.
“Jo,” he nods, “you have an entourage tonight?”
“Maverick Reynolds, meet my very married sister Erin, and my too good for your games friend, Bryn.”
He shakes his head and chuckles, turning to face Bryn, and completely ignoring my sister now that he knows she’s married. Although, I’m sure he has a few married woman notches on his bedposts. “Nice to meet you, Bryn; where have you been all my life?”
“Really,” Bryn scoffs, “that’s the best you can do, hotshot?”
“I would love to show you the best I can do.”
At this point, Laney has plastered herself to the stool at the table behind us, drinking more alcohol that she needs to share with me. I make my way over to her left side and Erin sidles up to her right, leaving Bryn and Maverick to their eye fucking and foreplay banter.