“Ug, such prunes,” I mumble, then raise my voice. “Keep your pants on guys,” and then I add a little white lie, “No one was breaking any rules.”
“As long as Damion keeps his pants on, or else he’s toast,” Ilkay warns and I’m starting to see a pattern here.
“I wish I could drop mine for a quickie,” Logan growls, “But we’re stuck on a fucking 10-hour flight with CC the only one having tits.” I have no idea who that is. I look at Kiara for help but she shrugs her shoulders with a pout. We both turn to Axel for an answer.
“Crazy Chloe,” he whispers. Oh, sometimes I love the way boys think. Kiara receives a message and jumps up with a huge smile.
“Orgasm time!” she gleams and I’m instantly jealous. “Hey, bodyguards, one of you can take my bed for the night.” She wrinkles her nose. “But please be clean before you get in it.” The boys look a mix of sick and disgusted.
“You’re going to use some poor boy for sex?” Enrique cows, looking rather envious. Actually, there’s that look a nerdy kid gets, when he imagines the coolest ever party, he wasn’t invited to, on all their faces.
“What, you think only men need regular orgasms?” Kiara hisses. “Girls have needs too.” For a moment the boys seem dumbstruck, now sitting there with those stupid smirks plastered on their faces – the ones they get when their minds get all dirty.
“Fuck! Let’s put the girls in a convent!” Jackson slurs when he eventually gets his brain past the word orgasm.
“I like that. Then we don’t have to murder every guy they date,” Ilkay says as I get a glimpse of myself getting old, a virgin pathetically trying to get the job done with my vibrator, as twenty cats look on. Oh, no. Not gonna happen.
I draw the line at 10 cats max.
I give them a dark look. “We’re not becoming nuns so you can sleep better at night.” And right there I decide I’m going to hit Damion as soon as he comes back. And then I’ll do the running. First. And fast.
Kiara snorts and waves as she leaves.
“Forget the girls.” Enrique sits up straight. “Logan’s friend turned into a nun. He’s pussy-whipped by some girl.”
“Since when?” Axel. “Seriously?” Ilkay. “Fuck.” Jackson.
And then Logan: “No ways … he can’t be! I would know.”
“Still right here!” Damion tries again. But still gets ignored.
“Oh, looks like Logan got a little man-crush!” Ilkay sniffs at the youngest male sibling, who swears, “Fuck off!” And I can see his middle finger sticking in the air in my mind. “For real,” he adds frustrated.
“Maybe you should hold his hand or stroke his hair,” Enrique continues calmly, “In case the whole PTSD thing is flaring up again.”
“Fucking jerks,” Damion murmurs. Does he really have PTSD?
“He’s just on edge. We all are. It’s been way too long,” Jackson says casually. “It’s time.”
“Hell, yeah,” Logan agrees, “As soon as we’re all back together the San Francisco Boys will ride again.” I am one of few, who know the famous SFB’s true identities. It never really bothered me – the fact that they film themselves doing death-defying stunts and put it on their 400 billion subscriber channel.
But for some reason, all of a sudden, a tickle of worry scratches my heart when I think about it now.
I’ve had enough. I grab my phone from Jackson.
“Bye, Logan and Damion,” I say and end the call. Jackson gets up and grabs me into a hug.
“I’m going to New York for a few days,” he says, “But I guarantee you’ll be safe.” I wish I had his confidence. But the truth is, I’m scared shitless of this Harry guy and his loony kids.
And from the goose to the chicken … why is he not gloomy about his punishment trip to coach in the Big Apple? He hated it before … but now seems rather eager to go.
“You look chirpy about the trip?” He blushes. Fucking actually turns beet red. What the fuck?
“I made a mistake. I should be glad I got away with a slap on the wrist.” Did he just acknowledge he made a mistake? Jackson? Is this a frickin dream?
“Are you sick or something?” Enrique asks with the same huge frown sitting on the other’s faces.
“Nah -” Jackson sneers, “I’m just starting to see the appeal of New York. It’s a pretty fucking great city.” He falls onto the sofa and we all know that’s that. End of the conversation for him.
So he suddenly likes New York. I shrug my shoulders and grab another hamburger from the kitchen on my way to my room. I’m actually glad Kiara is on a date. I need some alone time to think about everything that happened in the last 48 hours.
“I’ve not forgotten the fact that my sperm ended up in my throat,” Enrique hoots from the sitting room – his voice back to normal.
A message comes through.
Damion: Can u talk?
I send a thumbs up and almost immediately the phone rings.
“I don’t have much time before the bitch or Logan finds me,” he says. “I just needed to say that since your brothers gave permission as long as I keep my pants on, will you go on a date with me when I get back?” I laugh.
“I know you know very well that my brothers didn’t give you any permission.”
“Oh, I’m taking any little liberty I can get. And please note they didn’t say anything about your pants needing to stay on.” I choke on the fry I just stuck into my mouth and cough viciously. He rapidly creases up.
“DAMION!” Someone calls in the background.
“Shit,” he swears in a soft low voice. “If I knew she was going to fly with us I would have missed the fucking plane.” My heart makes a triple somersault. He didn’t know.
“So what’s your answer?” he whispers. “Before they find my hiding spot.”
Catawampus, I do want to go on a date with him, and when I think of the 20 cats my mind is made up.
“Yes. But I need you to un-virgin me.” There’s a long silence and just as I start to wonder if he dropped the call a croaking gruff voice says, “I wonder if planes can make u-turns.” And why that makes my nipples pop I will not know.
“Until our date then.” This time the call ends. And I realize he didn’t agree to my terms. Nor did he disagree.
Date = 12 November