Julia turns to me with an unsure expression. “Are you sure about this?”
No.
Absolutely not.
Absolutely fucking not.
But I’m gonna smile and pretend that I am because she needs this.
Hell, we both do.
“It’ll be fine, Sweet Cheeks.”
She briefly digs her teeth into her red stained bottom lip before huffing, “Fine. I’m at least ringing the doorbell.”
“But I have a key.”
“Yeah, I’m well fucking aware you all have keys to each other’s places, which is the main reason we practically live at my apartment.”
While Pax doesn’t have a key to Julia’s place to just pop in whenever he fucking feels like it, it hasn’t stopped him from trying that method, nor has it stopped him from trying to change that. I’m thankful she’s just as stubborn as he is.
Well…most of the time.
Pretty sure he’d have an easier time trying to convince her that lacrosse is harder than soccer. Which it is. I played both! I’d know!
Julia rings the doorbell, and we’re only left waiting for a minute.
Ainsley opens the door wide with a warm greeting. “Hey!”
“Hey!” We state back in unison.
She immediately gives Julia a perplexed look. “Are you joining us for dinner, Julez? Because it’s totally fine if you are, you know it’s fine, it’s just we weren’t expecting you.”
With a crooked grin, I insist, “Yes, you were.”
Ainsley drops her mouth to argue when the situation dawns on her. Her eyes widen, and she does her best to bat away the uncertainty building. “Right…Um…” She shakes away her surprise. “Come in! Come in!”
Julia crosses the threshold first. “We brought wine.”
“Ooo,” our host coos. “Is it red or white?”
My girlfriend musters up a smile. “Red.”
“Which pairs best with pizza,” I add.
Joy jumps onto her expression. “We’re having pizza? Like homemade pizza? Because last time I tried to order it with you around it was a disaster.”
“Did he do that thing where he spends like ten minutes explaining the sauce to crust ratio to whoever is on the other end of the phone before just deciding he’d be better off making it himself?”
Ainsley squeaks. “Yes!”
“I’m not that bad…”
“Wy, you are so that bad.”
“I just don’t like-”
“Boring food,” they finish together.
“Or women.”
A small blush colors Julia’s face, and Ainsley giggles.
All of a sudden, Nate wanders around the corner, fiddling with the collar to his polo shirt. “Hey, bro. Didn’t hear you come in. Been here long?”
“Minute. Max.” I toss my head at his girlfriend. “Was just getting shit from these two when I announced we’re having pizza for dinner.”
“You makin’ it?” Nate quickly questions. “Because I’m not listening to you lecture the pizza guy about sauce to cheese layers. I’d rather us just go grab a bite somewhere.”
The women laugh, and he smirks like an asshole.
“We’re making pizza.”
My announcement is met with skeptical looks from Nate and Ainsley.
“As in every man or woman for themselves. That way when you’re shit’s fucked up I won’t feel guilty about not trying to save you from the horrendous crap we call delivery pizza in this goddamn country.”
“You’d think he invented pizza with that attitude,” Julia pokes.
“Right?” Nate prevents me from biting back. “Good to see you, Julez. Didn’t know you were joining for dinner, too. Thought it was just Wyatt and his girlfriend.”
“It is,” Ainsley innocently informs.
My best friend completely freezes. His mouth is slightly parted. Brow creased. Eyes thrumming with shock. He stays as still as a statue for an uncomfortably long amount of time.
“Did you have a stroke?” Julia tries to tease. “Do you smell toast?”
I lightly laugh, and the beet red color that was creeping up his neck rushes upward.
“Why don’t we take the wine and the groceries into the kitchen?” Ainsley suggests, reaching for the bags in my hands.
“Good idea,” Julia promptly agrees. “I’ll tell you all about how Wyatt has to stroke the wine bottles while he talks about what’s inside.”
She tosses me a flirty wink and flounces behind Ainsley towards the kitchen.
Once we’re completely alone in the foyer, I brave another look at Nate’s hostile expression. In an attempt to lighten the mood, I shove my hands in my jean pockets and say, “You know, even though you’re not a teacher anymore you still have that whole ‘Go See the Principal’ look perfected.”
He remains silent.
“And I got that look often.”
No response.
“Pretty much any time I flipped a math equation into something sexual.”
Still nothing.
“X rated jokes were obviously the easiest.”
The lack of movement in Nate causes me to finally crack.
My tone turns serious and drops in volume, “Bro, do you want us to leave?”
“I wanna know what the fuck you’re thinking,” he growls, neck straining. “That’s Pax’s sister!”
“I know,” I quickly insist back. “Believe me, I fucking know.”
“Then I repeat, a little louder now so you can hear me over your own ego, what the actual fuck are you thinking?!”
“I-”
“That’s his sister!”
“I-”
“You couldn’t just…I don’t know…not?”
His oddly phrased question has me trying to reply once more. “I-”
“Pax is gonna kill you.”
It’s my turn to become silent.
“He is going to literally kill you then request my help burying the body and Holden’s help in covering it up.”
I press my lips tightly together.
“Does Holden know?” He doesn’t pause for a reply. “Of course, Holden knows. He knows everything. One click of a button and he probably knows when my fucking boss is ovulating.”
Downfall to having a slightly nosey hacker for a bro.
“Then again maybe he doesn’t,” Nate continues rambling to himself. “He’s gotten better about snooping since Meena came along…”
Thankful to have the heat momentarily off of me, I let out a small sigh.
“We’ve all gotten better about shit since our chicks came along…” A small smile crosses his lips that’s unfortunately short lived. Anger returns to his eyes, and he narrows them at me. “Come on, Wyatt! That’s his sister!”
“And I didn’t know that when we first hooked up!”
“How could you not fucking know that?!”
“Because none of us fucking knew he had a sister!” I practically yell back. “It’s not like she was wearing an ‘I heart Pax’ t-shirt with the words ‘We share the same DNA’ on the back, bro.”
Nate starts to picture the shirt and sneers.
“Look, I’m…” the words in love tip toe themselves across my tongue, and I have to bite it to stop them from leaping free.
Seems wrong to tell him before I tell her.
And I’m gonna tell her…
I just don’t know when.
Or how.
Or what happens after I do.
All things I’d fucking suck whip cream off a nut sack to discuss with someone I can trust.
Nate seems to sense the end of the sentence, and his shoulders plunge. “No bullshit?”
“No bullshit, bro.”
“This isn’t just…a couple random hook ups I can pretend I didn’t know were happening?”
I quickly shake my head.
“How long?”
“His engagement party?”
“What!?”
“We weren’t like official or anything, but that’s when we met. Literally minutes before Pax introduced us.”
“It was already too late, wasn’t it?”
There’s a small hesitation to nod. “Yeah. I didn’t know then, but looking back on it? Definitely.”
He starts to shake his head slowly again. “Damn it…”
“Here’s the thing, Nate. Complete honesty. No punches pulled.”
Nate leans slightly forward to indicate I have his full attention.
“Julia’s my girl. I spend every moment I can with her. I go bat shit out of my mind when we’re apart for too long. I’d do anything for her including walk out of this house right now if it means protecting her from being unwelcomed by someone I call family.”
His jaw slightly parts.
“It’s been stressful as fuck not being able to talk to any of you about this shit, but I deal because I…” the word love inserts itself again, yet I cringe out, “care about her that much. She’s more than Pax’s little sister. She’s her own person. A person I’ve gotten to know and am absolutely crazy about. Like let her wear kicks, crazy about.”
“Oh, damn.”
“Yeah. She’s this mind blowingly amazing person I would love for my bros to get to know. If you think you can do that, then we’ll stay. Drink some wine. Eat some pizza. But if you honestly can’t, if you honestly don’t think you can see past who her brother is or the fact that it’s not the most ideal situation, then let me know that shit now, and we’ll leave.” I step a little closer, shoulders squared. “The only thing I give a shit about is making sure Julia isn’t hurt.”
To my surprise, Nate doesn’t continue to argue. He doesn’t disagree or further rub my face in the evident betrayal I’m committing. He simply hums to himself and lets his face break into an uncharacteristically bright smile. “Let’s go make some proper introductions.”
The two of us walk side by side around the corner and into the open kitchen where the ladies have already uncorked a bottle of wine.
Nate’s first to speak. “Couldn’t wait for us?”
Ainsley innocently shrugs. “We didn’t know if we were gonna be waiting ten minutes or ten hours.”
“Ten hours and I would’ve called an Uber,” Julia interjects.
“Fuck, ten hours and I would’ve called the cops. Told them I was being held hostage.” Crossing over to her, I wrap my arm around her lower waist and question, “How’s it taste?”
She offers me the glass. “Better than expected. More body than I’m used to.”
“Not me.” I wink and steal a sip.
Julia promptly pins me with a look, silently insisting I behave.
Nate slides his arm around Ainsley and directs his attention to my girlfriend. “So, what do you think about a proper introduction?”
Her face twitches in confusion.
“Wyatt, brought up a valid point while we were talking.”
“Talking or arguing?” Ainsley promptly questions.
“Spoonful from pot A…” I hand the glass back. “Spoonful from pot B.”
My girlfriend giggles at the expression.
Nate rolls his eyes, but continues, “We don’t really know you, or anything about you. What should we even call you?”
She casually shrugs. “Whatever you want.”
Ainsley catches onto what Nate’s attempting to do. “Do you have a preference? What do your other friends typically call you?”
“I don’t exactly have other friends.” Her confession coats concern on their faces. “However, the one I do have calls me Julia, like my closer colleagues and acquaintances. My immediate family calls me Julez.” Julia gives me a playful look. “And Wy affectionately calls me Sweet Cheeks.”
“Have you seen this ass?” I grab a good handful of one cheek. “Damn thing should come with cavity warnings.”
She rolls her eyes, yet Ainsley snickers. “Oh, I get affectionate pet names that others might frown upon.”
“Oh yeah?” My girlfriend engages her in the conversation at the same time she swirls the liquid around her glass. “What’s yours again?”
“Kid,” Nate inserts warmly.
“Like Casablanca?” Julia enthusiastically asks.
“Exactly!” Glee fills Ainsley’s expression. “Do you…like that movie?”
“One of my favorite classics.”
“Ohmygod. You may be my new best friend.”
They laugh together, and Nate jokes, “Should I keep that information from Sloan?”
She cringes at the comment before we all lightly laugh together.
Nate volunteers to pour us wine while they begin in a more traditional first date line of questions. We pass the time discussing how we each started dating and what they do for a living as well as what Julia does. She gives them more in depth details than they’ve ever heard and more laughs are shared when dirty comments are thrown out from both directions. Shoes get kicked off. Shirts untucked. Sexy bras briefly compared. We alternate sitting at the bar section of the island, leaning against it, and occasionally, sitting on top of it. There are jokes made about the odd choice of décor and a playful defense taken to defend the enlarged photos of fruits. With each passing sip, it begins to feel more and more like we’re at a home away from home.
It’s comforting.
Relaxing.
Julia fits into my family perfectly like I knew she would.
Like I had imagined.
Hoped.
By the time we’re into our third glass of wine, I’m insisting we pause everything else to begin creating pizza before we’re too intoxicated to do more than call a dreaded delivery company. It doesn’t take long for me to set up the pizza dough I prepped yesterday into four areas. On each side of the sink are two stations for execution. Neither Ainsley nor Julia gripes about getting their dresses dirty in the flouring process, but Nate bitches about having to wash his favorite jeans again. After demonstrating the proper way to roll out the dough for tossing, I allow everyone the opportunity to do it themselves. Having only brought two pins requires Nate and Ains to share one, which is exactly what I wanted.
Cooking together can be one of the most intimate things you do outside of sex.
Why not spread that joy around?
“Nate, stand behind Ains like this,” I command, relocating my body behind Julia’s.
He pounces on the opportunity.
My fingertips glide down Julia’s arms for her hands that are gripping the edges of the pin. Little shudders spiral out of her, and my front presses tighter against her back to absorb them. “Place your hands on hers.”
Nate hums his understanding, takes the exact position, and presses his lips near Ainsley’s ear. I notice the way her ass pushes back against his crotch at the contact. The sight of two other people turned on in the kitchen only further stiffens my already hardening cock.
Julia peers over her shoulder at me, a mischievous look bouncing around her eyes. Her ass does the same as her new friend’s and presses firmly backwards. She lightly swivels her hips. “What’s next, Chef?”
I groan at the name and nip at her bottom lip.
She instantly whimpers for more.
My head turns to explain the next step when I notice Nate’s mouth wandering down the side of his girlfriend’s neck. Her eyes have fallen shut, and she seems to be drifting far far away from the idea of cooking.
Following suit, I temporarily suspend the notion of cooking and connect my lips to Julia’s. Our tongues anxiously roll around while our hips mimic the motions. The harsher our tongues lash, the harder our hips grind. Soft moans begin to flood the kitchen from two different directions. Julia attempts to turn her body around in my arms, yet I tighten the grip I have on her hands to keep her trapped. She fights for freedom by repeatedly pushing her ass back, recreating my favorite way to have her.
I abruptly pull back to warn, “Stai attento, or I’ll fuck you right you here.”
Julia flashes me my favorite grin. “Is that supposed to be una minaccia?”
Her lower half repeats the torturous action proving to me that’s exactly what she wants.
A heavy groan festers in the back of my throat.
There’s no reason I can’t.
It’s not like this is the first time I’ve fucked in front of one of my bros.
Not like it’s the first time one of them has fucked in front of me.
The thought has me stealing a peek of the pair beside us.
Their mouths have joined, and their bodies are in the process of doing the same.
My eyes land back on Julia who is silently begging me to stop wasting time. She slowly wets her lips and announces, “Touch me before I touch myself.”
I lower my hands to her hips and underneath the hem of her dress. With my lips lightly nudging her ear, I proclaim, “No one else touches my pussy, Sweet Cheeks.” My middle finger traces the string of her thong from the back to the front. “Not even you.”
Another whimper seeps free, and I swiftly lower my mouth to catch it.
The next several moments seem to pass by in a split second. Julia’s legs are parted wide and her body is bent forward, hands gripping the edge of the counter. Her thong is being held to the side by one of my thumbs while the other is lightly pressing against her asshole. My jeans and boxers are dropped just enough to let my dick drive home, which it does without vacillation.
As soon as her pussy clamps down around my cock, it shatters my ability to hold back my groans, “Fuck….”
To my surprise, two sets of moans fill my ears.
I dart my vision to the left to see Nate and Ainsley in the exact same position. His eyes happen to catch mine, and we exchange a nonchalant shrug. In tandem, we lower our attention back to the women impatiently waiting for it.
Julia gently begins to rock herself backwards, fucking herself without any assistance. The idea to punish the choice thrums through my mind, yet the sight of her using me to get off stops any decision to move. Her full ass continues its delicious assault, caressing my balls in the process. More grumbles filter their way out of me, and I bury my thumb deeper. She squeaks at the invasion.
Shivers.
Soars to the tips of her toes.
The response to such a subtle action is so appetizing I can’t refrain from repeating it. Julia squirms again except this time she can’t continue her previous moving. I take the open opportunity to sync the thrusting of my cock to the thrusting of my thumb. Both holes are shown no mercy. Brutal blow after blow is given in such a rapid succession the ability to breathe becomes nonexistent. Airy screams are proceeded by sharper heaves. Sharper heaves are followed by silent cries for more. Silent cries for more are rewarded with even rougher force, which starts the entire cycle all over again. Her beautiful, curvy body does everything it can to withstand the turbulence, but eventually collapses forward into the dough. She whines from the loss of stability at the same time she tries to readjust her grip on the counter. Her hand accidently knocks into Ainsley’s who misinterprets it as a request to connect their fingers. Soft mewls sneak out of them both.
The unexpected delicate connection has me and Nate roaring together, “Fuck…”
Julia’s pussy begins to swell in response. Each sweltering pulse milks from me a blistering burst. Slurs of cuss words in English and Italian slip past my lips as our viscous creation leaks onto my balls. Our bodies are trembling so hard the ground underneath us seems to crack open and swallow us whole. I slump forward on top of her, tongue skimming any skin it can find, determined to devour her aftershocks. It takes longer than expected for our eyes to finally connect. Seeing hers filled not only with satisfaction but adoration tempts me to say the three little words I haven’t had the balls to say out loud.
But now is not the right time.
No.
Right after you get done fucking in your best friend’s kitchen right beside him is not the pinnacle of romance in a relationship.
Don’t need an expert to tell me that.
There’s a loud pleased hum from beside us, and we turn our attention to it.
Ainsley is in the process of adjusting her dress back down with a warm smile. Once it’s in place, she brushes her hair away from her flushed face and jovially asks, “What was the next step again?”
The four of us collectively laugh. We each completely fix our attire, wash our hands, and finish our glasses of wine. Our conversation returns to the same cordial tone it had before. Despite seeing one another in the most intimate nature, none of us display any signs of discomfort or regret.
This is how life with my bros is supposed to be.
This is why I know Julia is perfect for me.
Belongs with me.
To me.
Her desire to chase the unconventional mirrors my own in the ways I need most.
After the extra dough I brought has been properly flowered and successfully shown how to be rolled out, I demonstrate the easy tossing action I want them to try.
Nate immediately shakes his head. “No.”
My joyful expression remains. “What do you mean no?”
“I mean no. We don’t have any extra dough, and if this shit falls on the floor, then what am I supposed to eat?”
“You could still use the dough,” Ainsley argues. “It’s not like our floor is gross.”
“Grosser now,” Julia teases with a wink.
Snickers spread around the area, but Nate remains unconvinced to try. “No. Won’t risk it.”
“Come on, Teach,” his girlfriend encourages. “Have some fun!”
His shoulder starts to melt the way they always do for her.
Fuck, I know that feeling.
“Fine…Show us again.”
I take my dough and instruct on where to properly hold it. I walk everyone step by step through the simple motions on how to toss as well as catch it. Ainsley decides to go first. While she gets a good toss, it’s too high for her, which results in a poor catch.
“You have to be careful,” I cautiously explain. “If you catch it like that, it screws with the structure of the dough.”
She scrunches her nose. “Meaning?”
“Do you want a weird misshapen pizza?”
Ainsley sighs and tries again. The second time is better but not by much.
Nate takes a turn with his. The toss is ridiculously low.
“Are you tossing pizza or flipping a coin?” Julia jokes.
“I don’t see you doing anything,” he grouchily mumbles.
She gives him a condescending smirk. “That’s because I don’t wanna embarrass Wy in front of you.”
All eyes fly to her, and Nate begs, “Please? Please, embarrass in front of us.”
Julia snickers, but I fold my arms across my chest. “Embarrass me, Sweet Cheeks? Are you joking? Have you forgotten who I am?”
“A white Chef Boyardee?”
“Oh shit!” Nate chuckles from the side.
“I can toss your ass under the table, Sweet Cheeks.”
“I mean you can, but I thought we were making pizza before we went another round.”
The banter receives a crooked grin. “You really think you can toss pizza better than me?”
“I know I can.”
“Have you forgotten I’ve seen you cook?”
“Have you forgotten sometimes it’s easier to play dumb than do the hard work?”
Her retort has me leaning forward to quietly question, “Can you really cook more than you let on?”
She replies in the same manner. “Most shit, no. Absolutely not.”
We exchange smirks.
“Alright then.” I tilt my head to the side. “Let’s play this out. How about a bet?”
“Terms?”
“I win, I get to record a video of you saying I’m the world’s best tosser-”
“You might wanna rethink that phrasing,” she innocently points out.
“Seriously,” Ainsley agrees.
“Pizza tosser.”
“Not much better, but fine.”
“Gonna make that shit my ringtone.”
Nate sarcastically chimes in, “That won’t get annoying.”
“And when I win,” Julia steps towards me, “you have to go streaking outside with nothing more than a pizza pan to cover your dick.”
My jaw drops in surprise.
Fuck, I love and hate her ‘go all in or don’t go at all’ attitude.
“Done. Nate and Ainsley can judge.”
“Nate and Ainsley will happily judge.” He laughs and grabs his girlfriend’s hand to lead them around to the front of the island. “Whenever you two are ready…”
I wave a hand at Julia. “Ladies first.”
She shakes her head arrogantly. “Non-Italians first.”
Ainsley girlishly giggles. “God, I love the two of you together.”
We each offer her a smile.
Is it strange that she’s put us closer to the word love than we have?
I grab my dough, and Julia gives me the respective space to do my thing. Rather than go all out immediately, I warm up with a few gentle tosses, allow her confidence to build before ramping things up a notch. After alternating between high and low tosses, I begin the whip. My attention remains focused on the task knowing one glance at her, and I will make an ass out of myself. The whipping movement gets executed faster and faster until I finally add in one last high toss to end on.
There is a round of applause that I promptly give a bow to.
Nate grumps, “I fucking forgot how good he was at that shit. I don’t think I’ve seen him actually toss it around since we were in college.”
Putting it back on the pan, I chortle, “That’s because you assholes are always in such a fucking hurry to eat. You have no patience for showmanship.”
“It’s fucking pizza, Wyatt. Not the Kentucky Derby.”
The girls giggle, and Julia asks, “Was he always this cocky in the kitchen?”
“Always,” Nate reassures. “We couldn’t wait for him to fuck something up, so we could turn his oven settings down a few degrees.”
“I didn’t know you were so obsessed with touching my knob, bro.”
Nate flashes me his middle finger.
“What was his worst kitchen screw up? You know besides challenging me to a pizza toss?”
“That has yet to be proven,” I remind her.
“Whenever he was trying to impress a more cultured female he’d always try something way out of his still growing skill set.”
“My skill set is vast.”
“Uh-huh,” Nate brushes me off and continues. “This one time, around Spring Break, he was trying to impress this girl from Jamaica.”
I instantly cringe. “Don’t tell this story.”
“I’m telling this story.”
“Don’t.”
“But he should,” Julia encourages.
“But he shouldn’t.”
“Or I should as payback for the shotgun story you told Ains when you first met.”
A grumble is grabbed. “Fuck. I forgot about that.”
“I didn’t,” he viciously states. “And it’s only right that your girlfriend is given the same embarrassing as fuck moments.”
“True!” Ainsley agrees.
Her opinion is not needed right now.
“So this Jamaican girl…” Julia pressures him to continue.
“He decides, he’s gonna make her a special, authentic dessert.”
“Coconut toto. It’s cake. Easy as shit.”
“But she was allergic as shit to coconuts.”
Julia and Ainsley gasp.
“Wyatt blind folded this girl and fed her a piece of death cake in an attempt to be romantic. Thankfully, she had an epi pen otherwise he would’ve committed murder in our kitchen.”
“Epic. Fail,” my girlfriend punctuates the words.
“He rushed her to the hospital afterwards while we ate the cake.” Nate starts to laugh. “It was pretty good, but he never made it again.”
“Still haven’t,” I clarify. Just as more laughter bounces around the room, I huff, “Can we get back to this now?”
“You mean this fail?” Julia taunts. “Because it’s about to happen.”
“Bring it, Sweet Cheeks.”
It’s my turn to step out of the line of fire.
We watch her pick up her dough and get a good feel of its weight as well as its shape. Shortly after, she does a high toss that’s not impressive even if it is a more advanced action than an amateur should be able to make. However, her moves remain uninspiring for only a brief second longer. She executes another high toss and swiftly spins around on her bare feet. The movement receives a small gasp from Ainsley though I remain unconvinced she’s better. She repeats the toss and spin twice more before lowering to a kneeling position to catch it on her third toss. The dough soars behind back in wild whirls while my eyes anxiously follow it. She ultimately rises back onto her feet, shifts into bicycles, and delivers a little saunter of her hips along with it. Shocked at her skill yet not ready to admit defeat, I prepare to goad her when she performs a move I have yet to perfect. Julia rolls the dough from fingertip to fingertip across her shoulder blades. To prove it wasn’t a fluke or beginners luck, she does it three more times, ending her show with an over dramatic wink.
I shake my head profusely. “Che diavolo? What are you, like a pizza shark or something?”
Julia snickers and places the dough on the pan. “Non essere un bambino. You got beat fair and square.”
“He didn’t get beat.” Nate’s comment grabs our attention. “He got annihilated.”
My eyes helplessly roll.
“It makes me wanna find my phone and take a picture to capture this moment forever.”
The women snicker, yet I grit my teeth in irritation.
Humiliated.
In the kitchen.
On home turf.
Fuck.
I’m gonna have to scrape my balls off the ground and figure out a way to come out on top.
“Why are you so good at that?” Ainsley questions before I have the chance.
A hint of red appears on her cheeks. “I um…I used to hook up with a pizza guy in college. Needless to say he had a way with his hands…”
They laugh at the joke while I simply move to tug her into my arms. My fingers slip lower to give her ass a firm grip. “Don’t make me remind you again what I can do with mine.”
She briefly bites her lip. “You sure can…right after you go for a streak.”
I groan at the idea.
“And we had a cold front come in this morning,” Ainsley reminds me. “Might want a little more wine to warm up your system first.”
Nodding frantically, I turn on my heels to find a bottle of unopened red. “Good idea.”
Once more, we laugh and prepare for another round of drinks.
I love the way Julia challenges me.
Pushes me.
Defies me.
I love the fact it’s not my way or no way.
I love the fact it’s not her way or the highway.
I love the fact it’s our way.
That we have an our.
Before tonight we just had our place.
Our routines.
Now, we have our friends, and there’s something about that that feels like a brick oven has been lifted off my back.
I love that Julia fits in with my bros…my family…
I love her and after tonight, I have no doubt in my mind that when I’m finally able to say it, she’ll say it in return. And that feeling is better than any rush I’ve ever gotten from cooking.