Page 67 of Stroked Hard
I’m actually not, but I like to fuck around, because, why not?
“Don’t be jealous, sis. Come on, you know this song, belt it.”
“I don’t do the Dixie Chicks. I don’t really care for country.”
“You shut your mouth,” I playfully snap at her. “Country is the heart and soul of a beer can. How can you not love it?”
“I don’t like beer.”
Rolling my eyes, I turn onto the freeway and press down on the gas pedal. “You had beer once and it was piss water, you can’t judge beer off that. You need to have a really good microbrew.”
“You’re such a woman. Microbrews are so hipster.”
“No they’re not,” I counter. “Microbrews are for people with enough education to realize they have well-refined taste buds.”
“Are you saying you have well-refined taste buds?”
I switch lanes and charge past a slow-as-fuck Nissan. Get in the slow lane, fuckhead. Nothing drives me more insane than shitty Californian drivers.
“I know I have well-refined taste buds, Holls.”
“Is that so?” There is sarcasm in her voice, and I just wait for what she’s going to say next. “If your taste buds are so awesome, explain how you can eat Pop-Tart ice cream sandwiches.”
“Easy, they are a delicacy made for the fine and wealthy.”
“They are trash.”
“Your face is trash.” Not my best comeback but then again, she insulted my Pop-Tart ice cream sandwich. I’m distraught.
“Good one, Hollis.” Changing the subject, she asks, “Did you talk to Dad last night?”
“Yes,” I groan. “Real quick, you really want Green Burrito?”
“Don’t deprive me of my breakfast burrito. I worked off the calories already this morning in the gym.” Holly is obsessed with Green Burrito’s bacon, egg, and cheese breakfast burrito. The reason why she likes it so much? It’s huge and has refried beans. Not many places add refried beans to their breakfast burritos. It’s an absolute crime if you ask me.
“I would never even dream of depriving you. Just wanted to make sure because I need to get off this exit.”
“It’s a ritual after combo dryland and weight lifting in the morning. Never break tradition, Hollis.”
“Excuse me.” I laugh. Getting off the exit, I signal to turn right, directing the car toward thePromised Land. “What the hell was Dad talking about last night?”
Holly sighs and slouches in her chair. “I have no idea. All I could catch from the high-pitched excited babble coming from him was something about a screen printer and being able to print in mass quantities.”
“That’s what I heard too,” I confirm. “I was kind of hoping I heard him wrong. Please tell me he’s not starting his own T-shirt business.”
From the corner of my eye, I can see Holly shrug. “I don’t know. People love the shirts he makes for every meet. It’s frightening.”
“Strangers really shouldn’t encourage him.”
“They really shouldn’t.”
I stop at a red light just as my phone dings in the console next to me. Taking a quick glance, I see it’s from Reese.
Reese: You know the term sweating your balls off? Pretty sure mine just detached from my body. I will keep you updated on their whereabouts.
Chuckling, I set my phone on my lap and wait for the light to turn green while I think about my conversation I had with my parents. “Mom was asking me how eBay works. What do you think that was about? Think she wants to sell some memorabilia? That would be so fucking weird if she did.”
“I would hope we would see some profit.” Holly laughs but then grows serious. “Do you know what would be terrifying?”
