Total pages in book: 153
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147021 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“Did we not have those when you were growing up? Was our towel situation lacking? Do I have bath sheets or towels?” Roman starts on a bad-dad spiral.
“We had great towels, Dad,” Peggy—Aurora—reassures him. “These are huge and soft and really nice, but there’s nothing wrong with your towels now, or the ones we had growing up.”
If that was true, she probably would have showered at his place, not mine.
Rainbow arrives with our meals, and Peggy rushes to jam the towel back into the bag. Her eyes go wide at the low thunk.
Roman is too busy spiraling over his lack of towel game, and Rainbow is all sparkle and sunshine, as Peggy and I duck under the table. We both grab the superdick at the same time, our fingers overlapping each other. We are talking about this later, I mouth. She yanks the vibrator free and practically snarls like she’s channeling her inner Gollum.
She jams the device in her banana-duck purse and pops back up, her grin halfway to maniacal. “I kicked my purse over by accident.” She grabs her rolled-up napkin of silverware, which clatters noisily on the table. “This looks delicious.”
Roman passes her the maple syrup, which she pours all over her banana-nut pancakes and sausage links. She stabs one with her fork and bites the end off, groaning her appreciation. “These sausages are the best.”
I give her a look.
She gives me one back.
Roman wants to know what brand my towels are.
Her phone goes off every few seconds, so she’s highly distracted all through our meal.
And so am I. Because that superhero vibrator is inches away from my foot, and I can’t stop thinking about the handoff that just occurred. Nor can I acknowledge that this feels a lot like Pandora’s box has been jimmied open, and I don’t know how to close it.
CHAPTER 4
HAMMER
My embarrassment is far from over as my dad and I take the elevator to my apartment. I hug him when we reach my floor, thank him for the pancakes, and tell him I’ll see him later. He asks for the seven-hundred-and-fifth time if I’m okay. I tell him I’m preoccupied because I have a project due on Monday. This is not untrue, but it’s ninety-five percent finished. I don’t typically lie to my dad unless it’s to avoid hurting his feelings, but in this case, I can’t tell him the truth. Better for him to believe it’s school stress.
I’m relieved when the elevator doors slide closed, allowing me the nervous freaking breakdown I spent all our meal fighting. I don’t know why Hollis thought it was a good idea to bring my vibrator to the restaurant masquerading as a gift. I would honestly be fine with that remaining an eternal mystery, but avoiding him forever will be a challenge.
I try not to think about the fact that Hollis touched my Batdick when he rolled it in that towel. But now the idea is in my head, and my mind is sinking into the gutter. I wonder if he’s ever fucked someone with their vibrator. I try to blink away the sudden image of me spread out on his bed, naked, and him wearing a too-small towel, holding it.
“Ugh, this needs to stop,” I mutter as I let myself into my apartment.
Rix stopped answering messages about twenty minutes ago, so she’s probably with Tristan. Getting laid. I sigh. I wish I had someone who sent me gifts all the time and wanted to be naked with me. Tristan worships the ground she walks on. It’s been months since my last date. With a pro-hockey-player dad, university guys don’t get my life.
“Fuck.” I almost trip over Tristan’s giant sneakers because he’s left them in the middle of the floor.
I have just enough time to anxiety pee before Hollis knocks. I know it’s him because he raps three times quickly, then pauses and knocks twice more. I wipe my damp palms on my jeans, take a deep breath, and throw open the door. Hollis’s winter jacket is unzipped, revealing his black Toronto Terror hoodie with the angry Canada goose emblem. His jeans do an annoyingly great job of highlighting his amazing hockey thighs.
I wish he wasn’t so hot. I also wish I hadn’t left my vibrator on his nightstand like an idiot, because it says more than I’d like about my feelings for him. But I can’t take it back, so the only way forward is to deal with it. It doesn’t mean I plan to be honest; it just means we get to have this awkward conversation. Hopefully once it’s over, I can forget about it for the rest of my life. Not likely.
This is probably the most mortified I’ve ever been. And that’s saying something since I’ve accidentally seen my dad’s wiener twice in the past six months.