“Check your phone.”
Her brows furrow as she drops the ice pack on my thigh and digs into her pocket for her phone before swiping her thumb across the screen. All the movements jostle her around and she tries to muffle her groans. With her phone unlocked, she stares down at the screen and shakes her head. “What am I supposed to be looking at?”
“I sent you a message.”
“There’s no message from y—”
“WHAT THE FUCK,” Logan roars, storming back into my home gym with his phone in his hand and his stare locked on mine.
My gaze drops to my phone, and I hastily check the message I just sent, dread sinking heavily into my gut. “Oh no,” I groan, cringing as I glance back at Bri and hand her my phone. “I was trying to send you my award-winning dick pic, and sent it to Logan instead.”
Bri howls with laughter and practically launches herself at my phone, her broken rib all but forgotten. She clicks on the image and laughs even more as it fills the entire screen, the girls racing in to look over her shoulder.
Jax laughs and glances toward his brother. “I gotta see this.”
Without hesitation, Logan tosses his phone across the room and by the time Jax is pulling up the message, Riley and Hudson are already there, looking in.
Ilaria snorts a laugh. “Ten out of ten for lighting,” she says, preparing to critique. “Nice angle too, manscaped just right, and you can even see the angry veins.”
“Fucking hell. This isn’t happening.”
“Bonus points for the firm grip. Sometimes guys just don’t have enough meat to get a grip shot, you know what I mean? Their fist usually hides the main attraction, but that clearly isn’t an issue for you,” she says as both Riley and Jax nod along as if they know exactly what she’s talking about, “and you also seem to get the ball proportion just right.”
“Ball proportion?” I ask, regretting the words the moment they leave my mouth.
“Yeah,” Ilaria continues as if this has turned into dick pics for beginners. “Some guys get too much balls in the shot and it’s distracting. You know there’s nothing worse than opening up your phone to get blasted by a wrinkly ball sack. It’s like the underboob, you have to get it just right.”
Chanel and Arizona nod in agreement as I catch Bri zooming in as though she hasn’t already had an up-close look at the thing. “You know what,” she murmurs to herself, going about opening a new message to herself. “I might just save this for later.”
She hits send and we all hear the soft vibration of her incoming message before she glances up at me. “Got any more I can add to my Tanner folder?” she asks, her bright blue eyes making it almost impossible to say no.
I grin back at her. “Just say the word, and I’ll send you anything you want.”
“Good,” she murmurs, raising her chin and lowering her voice. “But for the record, dick pics are out. If you really want to make me squirm, send me a live cumshot with the volume turned up. I wanna hear you come, and you better be groaning my name.”
Well, fuck.
Who the hell am I to say no?
Chapter 34
TANNER
Bri curls into my side as I help her up the stairs toward her bedroom, hating the pained curses she tries to hide. It’s creeping up on midnight and she’s well overdue for some more painkillers.
The moment everyone left, I had Bri out the door. Every part of me wanted to take her up to my room and keep her here for as long as I could, but the rational part of my brain told me that her mom was going to return home some time during the night, and when she does, she’s probably going to want to check on her daughter. I can’t imagine that her mom is going to be very forgiving if she walked in to find her daughter not in her bed, especially after just being told that she’d been in a car wreck.
I lead her down the hallway to her room, and as I take the handle and push her door open, she smirks up at me, looking far too proud of herself. “It must be nice not having to squeeze through the crawl space to get in here.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Right,” she scoffs, moving across her room to perch on the side of her bed.
She watches me as I start to unload all her painkillers and fresh bandages onto her bedside table. “Do you need anything?” I ask, making sure everything is there before spilling a few pills into the center of my hand and passing them to her. “Pajamas? Water?”
“Both,” she says, her face scrunching as she goes to get up again. “But don’t worry. You’ve already done so much. I can figure it out from here.”