When we show up in front of Lauren’s house, that is when I fill in Noah.
“Where the fuck are we? I thought you said we were going to brunch.” He looks over at all the white-picket-fenced houses.
“Yeah, pit stop first. I have to pick up my dry cleaning at Lauren’s,” I tell him, getting out of the car.
Once I make my way around her house, he asks me. “Why are we at her house?”
“She’s having a brunch.” I shrug. “I may have sent her some penis decorations,” I say before walking to the side of the gate.
The first thing I see are all the balloons. Fuck, the event planner wasn’t kidding when she said she could get anything.
“Holy shit, she is going to cut your dick off with dental floss,” I hear Noah say before I knock and walk into the backyard.
I stop in my tracks, mid-step, when I see that it isn’t just her parents, but there are about fifteen or so people scattered around the yard. Noah, of course, bumps into me, his mouth flopping open and closed in shock.
“Holy shit,” he whispers. “Dude, I think she’s going to cry,” he says, and my eyes snap straight to Lauren.
When I put this plan into motion, I assumed she would probably intercept the decorations before her guests saw them. I thought she would spend her morning trying to hide and/or dispose of them before they arrived, and then spend the party looking over her shoulder, fearful of another delivery.
I head over to her and the women who are obviously her sister and her mother. Her mother, who is right then biting into a chocolate penis. I’m introduced to Lauren’s mother and father, and I’m pulling out all the charm. I’m not exactly sure why. I usually run away from parents.
I know she is seconds from slipping into meltdown mode, because she abruptly turns her back on her daughter and her mother and hurries toward the house.
“Excuse me,” I tell her parents, walking right into her house after her. She walks into the bathroom, slamming the door behind her, but not before I can wedge my shoe in there to block it from closing.
“Seriously, what do you want?” She looks straight at me. I move the sunglasses that I'm still wearing off my face to the top of my head. I stare at her valiantly trying to hold it together, noticing the tears that are welling in her eyes. She blinks repeatedly and stands tall to face me down.
“Didn’t you get your revenge already?” She throws up her hands, and that’s when I notice how what she is wearing hugs all of her curves. The tank top that molds to her full breasts perfectly, and the skirt that skims her body in all the right places.
““You penis-bombed my parents’ anniversary party!”
I lean against the closed door, folding my arms across my chest. “You made my balls swell to the size of fucking grapefruits. I thought they were going to explode,” I fire at her.
“I did no such thing,” she tries to deny weakly. She breaks eye contact, looking down at her shoes for a moment, before she squares her shoulders and looks me in the eye. “But this, this... You pushed it too far.”
“How about we call a truce?” I ask. I have no idea why I’m even trying to get on her good side. “I don’t think I can take any more. I almost died, and my testicles almost exploded,” I tell her the truth.
“Fine,” she complies, putting out her hand to shake mine. I raise my hand to grab hers. The fit is perfect. As I take in the feeling of her hand in mine, I notice that they are soft, delicate yet strong. As soon as her hand slipped against mine, I felt my heart rate kick up. I rub my thumb along the soft skin of her hand, trying to find a reason why I shouldn’t just pull her into me and plant my lips on hers. The memory of her body pressed against mine at work the other day still lingers in my mind.
“Truce,” I whisper, my thumb still stroking her hand. She looks down at our hands that are still connected. It looks like she’s not even breathing.
I can feel her getting closer and closer to me. Then, right before I feel her start to lean into me, there is a loud knock. “Hey, I don’t mean to interrupt, but, um, Jake is here.”
She drops my hand like it’s a hot potato, pushing me aside and opening the door. Her sister greets us with a huge smile, Noah standing right behind her. “What do you mean, Jake is here? Why is Jake here?” I hear her asking, her voice rising with each question.
“Hi”—the sister pushes Lauren aside—“I'm Kaleigh, her favorite sister,” she introduces herself.
“She’s my only sister, and she will be homeless in a second if she doesn’t get out of my way.” Lauren’s voice is angry.
I hear Noah chuckle behind her. Lauren turns and points at him. “You, if I find out you helped him, it’s going to be on,” she hisses and leans in closer to him when she continues, “like Donkey Kong.” And then she walks away.
“What the fuck does she mean, like Donkey Kong?” Noah turns to Kaleigh, looking for an answer.
“Oh, I was only on that list once”—she leans in closer to Noah—“and I begged and cried to get off of it.” She looks at me then back at Noah. “It was like living in that movie The Shining, but worse.” Noah’s face pales at that little tidbit of information. Yeah, welcome to my world, buddy.
He points at me. “If I get it like Donkey Kong, I’m going to put the pictures of your swollen, abnormally large testicles on a billboard in Times Square,” he threatens, while Kaleigh just watches us.
“Who the fuck is Jake?” I ask her.
“Her
