Page 49 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“Let her tell the story,” Delaney said, smacking his shoulder and sitting on the counter next to me, snuggling up for story time.
“The night was going fantastic,” I repeated. “I bowled terribly, and he was great, of course.” Henry rolled his eyes. “We had a nice conversation at the bar for a bit, talking about traveling and where we would want to go.”
“Iceland,” Henry said while pointing at me.
“Henry, let her talk,” Delaney said.
“Yes, I told him about Iceland and he didn’t ridicule me. He actually had a friend who went there and said it was gorgeous. Anyway, we decided to bowl again. Since I was so bad, he thought it would be helpful to give me some pointers—”
“Classic move to get close to you,” Henry interrupted again.
“I will cut your balls off if you get in the way of this story one more time,” Delaney said, causing Henry to back off.
Don’t mess with Delaney when she was fresh out of bed had yet to finish her first coffee.
“Coffee,” Derk mumbled as he shuffled out of Delaney’s room and into the kitchen.
“Shh,” Delaney said as she pointed to the pot already made. Derk wasn’t looking much better than Delaney, so they must have gone out clubbing, one of their favorite things to do.
Right about now, they could win world’s best mug shot if put up against the wall in the police station.
“He was giving you pointers . . .” Delaney said.
“Yes, so I decided to take them and the first one I tossed landed right in the gutter. I think it’s because my thumb was hurting, and the ball was kind of small for me. The holes, that is. So he encouraged me some more, stood behind me and waited for me to throw the ball again.”
“Holy shit, you threw the ball backward and tossed it right into his nut sac, didn’t you?” Henry said with a giant grin.
“No!”
“Henry.” Delaney flew across the counter holding up a pen as a weapon. “I will stab you in your trachea.”
Laughing, Henry backed up and asked me to continue.
“I didn’t throw the bowling ball into his crotch.”
“Sorry, but it would only make sense after your date on Friday. You’re a ball crusher.”
“Semen smasher,” Derk chimed in, looking more lively now.
“Jiz jostler.”
“Man-milk mutilator.”
“Good one,” Henry said while giving Derk a fist bump.
“Do you want to hear the story or not?” I asked, now getting frustrated.
“Sorry, please proceed, love,” Henry said with an endearing look. Frustrating man.
“So, I was throwing the ball forward and as I bent down to release, my pants ripped right in the seam from crotch to ass.”
My friends sat silent and stared at me, not making a move to say anything, so that’s when I showed them my pants that were folded on the counter. I shook them out and stuck my hand through the gaping hole in the crotch to prove my point.
Delaney was the first to crack as she busted out in laughter, followed by Derk and Henry who grabbed the jeans from me and inspected them.
“Only you.” Henry shook his head while examining the crotch. “What did you do?” he asked, clearly concerned but with a little or amusement still left in his voice.
“Well, clearly I was mortified and stood there for a second, bent over, hoping nothing was showing, and that’s when I remembered I was in a black-light situation with a freshly bleached butthole—”
