Book 9 - Page 62 (1/2)

I gave him a one-shoulder shrug. “I don’t mind being called a d.i.c.k. Why not highlight my best feature, right?”

He narrowed his eyes at me. “You’re an a.s.s**le too, you know.”

I grinned. “Tight as a whistle.”

He grimaced. “Please tell me Perry and Rebecca will be here soon because I don’t know if I can handle another moment of bro night.”

“They’ll be here,” I a.s.sured him, leaning back in my seat. We were in one of my favorite bars on 2nd Ave. Perry and Rebecca had gone and done girly s.h.i.+t so I decided to get together with Dean and meet up with them later. Now that Dean had officially accepted as best man and Rebecca had accepted as a bridesmaid, it felt right to have a little soiree.

I gave him a wry look. “So, you getting any preggo s.e.x?”

He rolled his eyes. “Dude, she’s still a lesbian.”

“A lesbian you put your d.i.c.k in. Your super sperm got her pregnant. I don’t think it’s that far-fetched to think that you may still be hitting that.”

“Hitting that?” he scoffed.

“Sorry. f.u.c.king that v.a.g.i.n.a with your d.i.c.k. Better?”

“Dex you need to get more idioms. Join us in the future, will you?”

“Can’t happen, my friend. I’m getting married. Didn’t you hear? That means that Perry accepts me as I am, faults and all. It also means I don’t have to ever change.” I took a swig of my beer and burped. “Isn’t that brilliant?”

“For you, maybe.” He shook his head in mock sorrow. “Poor Perry.”

Thankfully, Dean’s baby mama and my wife-to-be showed up before our conversation could disintegrate along with the contents of our drinks.

“Were you guys talking about us?” Perry asked, settling into the booth, a round Rebecca going beside Dean. The first thing I noticed was the stiff way Perry sat down. It was almost like she was trying to match Rebecca.

“What’s wrong?” I asked her.

She immediately looked at Rebecca.

“I told you he would know,” Rebecca said in her smart accent, though she looked awfully relieved to be sitting down. Next to Dean. No preggo s.e.x, my a.s.s. He was totally hitting that. Sorry, f**king her v.a.g.i.n.a. G.o.d.

“What, what?” I asked.

Perry breathed out of her nose in a huff and then said, “Okay, promise not to get mad.”

I frowned as she lifted up her s.h.i.+rt and exposed a black patch of plastic on her ribcage, the kind tattoo artists use.

“You got a tattoo?” I asked.

She nodded. “It’s not of you though.” She peeled back a corner and I saw a detailed blue and black waterfall with the names Maximus, Pippa and Mom on it. It was actually quite awesome. “You’re not mad?” she asked.

I shook my head, taking it in and feeling a bit of sorrow at the sight of Maximus. “Of course not. It’s beautiful. And painful looking. That must have hurt.”

She nodded.

I went on, “Why did you think I’d be mad?”