If Rae and Jonah heard anything last night, they don’t let on. I’d wager they were either asleep already or having a bang-bang party of their own, because Rae is the last person you can expect to keep something under wraps. She’s the most open-book gal I’ve ever met. I’m happy we’re in the clear.
That is, until Fox says, “Shit, I left my shorts in your room last night.”
I very nearly hit my forehead on the kitchen island. My responding glare is met with confusion, possibly irritation. Until it isn’t.
“Fuck,” he mutters.
Rae and Jonah are staring at us, bouncing their attention between us as they wait for one of us to speak again. We’re having a glare off.
Rae jumps in. “Are you guys hitting it?”
Cue synchronized head turn. “No.” Unison.
I watch their eyebrows shoot upward. “Are you sure about that?” Jonah asks. He’s usually the most reserved of our friends, but today he punctuates his query with unattractive air humping behind Rae. She, in turn, promptly sticks her high and tight booty back into him and moans theatrically.
Turning back to Fox, I give him my best bitchface. He stares back at me in wonder with his trademark “What did I do?” face. I widen my eyes and throw a nod toward the air sex champions to my left. Rae outdoes herself in some sort of Kama Sutra in midair pose. I’m so impressed I do a double take before looking pointedly back at Fox.
He sighs reluctantly and holds up his hands. “Okay, okay. The truth is Lolls can’t keep her hands off me. She got a taste of the joystick and now she’s an addict.”
“I will rip. Your. Balls off.”
“See what I mean?” he continues. I slap his arm.
Jonah chuckles. “You seem to have a disagreement about whatever is or isn’t going on.” Rae pretends to smoke a cigarette, leaning her head back on his shoulder.
Fox looks at me like this is my show. I am so not giving him any more lollipop treatment. Probably. I roll my eyes so hard I’m sure I could crack the sockets behind them. With a quick suck of the teeth, I let out one huff.
“Okay, we kind of are.” I truly did think something more eloquent would come out when I opened my mouth. “But it’s, um, really casual. Sort of. Not a relationship by any means.”
That sounds like ten layers of bullshit, so I amend before I make a complete untrue mess out of the whole thing. Fox is about to speak—probably going to attempt a horrible patch job of what I’ve put out there so far, so I interrupt.
“The full truth is I want to have a baby because my lovin’ oven is on the fritz and threatening to crap out early before the normal fiftyish year warranty.”
I see Fox’s face and he’s disgusted by my metaphors. It’s not the first time, so I’m happy to be on par.
Rae speaks up. “So, you two…”
“She tapped me for the goods,” Fox says, cupping his junk.
“And I rethink that decision almost every day,” I add, glaring at him and volleying my eyes between his face and his manual jock strap. “Seriously, dude?”
At least he has the decency to look the slightest bit embarrassed—not that he is, mind you, but perhaps he realizes it was not the time for crotch grabbing. It’s possible. He can be taught.
Jonah leans forward over the counter. “So he’s your donor, so to speak?”
I nod, feeling both uncomfortable and hella uncomfortable. I was totally at peace with this decision when I made it, but going public with the hows and whys of it feels like exposing myself on national TV.
“But you’re going about it the old-fashioned way?” Rae continues my casual yet still kind of painful interrogation. Why is nobody looking at Fox?
“She—” Fox begins, but I stop him without even looking at him.
“If you are going to say that I ‘wanted it straight from the source,’ ” I say, and yes, I used air quotes, “I swear I will kill you and extract your sperm postmortem. It happens, you know it does.” My voice sounds lethal, and while I love that, I also realize that I must seem incredibly stressed and bitchy.
Fox, however, is unruffled by my mood. “How do you do that?” he almost shouts. He’s legitimately still smiling, too. “That was, like, word for word what I was going to say!”
Eyes closed, I shake my head. I should have interviewed sperm donors. You know, at least gone to the clinic to see if they had donor bio videos or something. Research, confirm, vet the bastards. “I know you, Fox. Perhaps too well.”
The room goes briefly quiet. I take a cleansing breath and ask quietly, “If you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you don’t share this particular bit of news? I’d just prefer not to get a lot of attention on the issue while I’m trying to, uh, that is, um, until I have…”
“Until she gets knocked up,” Fox supplies.
“Yes, that.”
“Of course,” Rae says. “I hate gossip or anything like it, so my lips are sealed. Good luck! I hope it all works out well.”
I smile my thanks. Jonah makes a lip-zipping gesture and winks. With that simple exchange, we thankfully drop the topic, which is good, seeing as I have become psychotic. They don’t ask any more about the “benefits” arrangement, hopefully assuming any sex is for the baby making. It’s a little awkward for a moment, but I change directions and ask if we’re going to hit the water before we drive back to Bodhi.
“As if you had to ask,” Jonah says, and I smile. He seems unaffected by the whole revelation. Bless that guy.
Rae hollers like a warrior princess that may damage my eardrum, and Fox makes a similar call before he slaps my ass. I turn and look at him. “For real?”
“What? How is that wrong?” he asks, legit confused. Rae and Jonah shout something from the deck that they’re pulling out the boogie boards instead, which means it’s all goofing off and no serious riding. Fox smiles at me. “It’s all good, Lollipop. Right?”
I nod. “I guess it is.”
We get down to the water and boogie down. My side is a bit tender, but generally it doesn’t hold me back. Lots of falling, flipping, and splashing each other, but after an hour or so, we can’t ignore that we have a long drive ahead.
As we approach the deck back up at the house, we see a nondescript silver tabby rubbing itself on the deck chair legs. It’s awfully thin and small, so it could be a kitten, but it’s big enough to be on its own. I pretty much melt and slowly approach, holding out my hand. Immediately it runs to my hand and nudges, purring loudly.
“Hi, kitten,” I say, and pick it up to inspect the gender. “Such a pretty boy! Jesus, you have balls.”
“Is it?” Fox asks, peering over my shoulder. “Holy shit. Them some balls. Yep.”
“Charming.”
“I’m calling him ‘Cat,’ ” he says.
“Just like that?” I ask. “What if I wanted to take him?”
“I called him. He’s mine,” Fox tells me, taking him out of my hands. “Flower will love him.”
“You sure she won’t eat him?” I tease. He gives me a Kermit face. I laugh. “I wish your face would freeze like that. I would laugh forever.”
He squeezes out a little extra Kermit face and I gasp. “It got better. Oh my God! Ha! Anyway, I’m actually surprised you don’t have a complete menagerie of rescued animals at this point.”
Just like that, he drops the expression. “I kind of wonder that, too. Remember Turtle?”
“Turtle the dog. That was mean.” I rub Cat under his chin. Even so, Fox won’t let him go.
“It was accurate,” he argues. “Don’t you remember how slow she was?”
“The poor thing had arthritis!” I say in the animal’s defense.
Fox rests the little guy on his chest and it hunkers down and curls up by his neck.
“Goddammit.”
“What?” he asks, but he’s smiling. He knows, the ass.
“You’re like Doctor fucking Doolittle over here.” I resent the grin that grows across his face.
He strokes Cat’s back, and I can hear the purring from where I stand. “Don’t hate me because I’m so awesome. Hate me because I’m fucking crazy awesome.”
“I hate you because you’re a dick,” I say.
“I hate you because you’re a granny driver and you’re going to take the slow route back,” Jonah says as he walks by us both. “Get your ass in gear, Monkhouse. I want to get home before tomorrow.”