Page 91 of The Write Track
TWENTY-FOUR
“You’re going.”
Bree eyed me from the entryway of the cabin—I was comfortable on the couch with an outline notebook—and practically dared me to argue with her.
“I don’t want to go.” I sounded whiny, but I didn’t care. “I’m comfortable.” I gestured toward the couch. “Nathan will be back soon.” It was that last part really keeping me on the couch. He’d gone off to rustle up some snacks with the express purpose of hibernating in the cabin until we had to leave for one of the bar events later in the day.
“Listen, it’s cute that you and Nathan believe you’re the only two people in the world right now.” Bree used her most matter-of-fact tone. “I remember those days with Brody, fondly. You’re going, though. You’re addicted.”
My brow furrowed. “What are you suggesting I’m addicted to? Not his…” I trailed off, refusing to finish the sentence.
“Penis?” Bree pressed. She was not the type of person to get embarrassed. “Yes, that’s exactly what you’re addicted to.”
“You make it sound so shallow,” I complained.
“I know, but I need to get Brody out of here. He’s actually considering buying a cabin by the water for us to spend our summers. It’s disturbing.” Bree was beyond dour.
“You don’t have to go with him if he does that. You can make regular dates in town or something.”
“Oh, no.” Bree shook her head. “That’s not going to work. I’m as addicted to his penis as you are to Nathan’s. I need him to see reason. That’s why he’s going golfing with Nathan.”
That was news to me.
“And you’re heading downtown for some retail therapy with us.”
I wasn’t opposed to shopping. I just had other plans. “Nathan?—”
As if on cue, the man in question barreled into the room with Brody yapping on his heels. He didn’t look happy.
“I don’t want to golf,” Nathan argued. “I already have plans.” His eyes swept the room and he looked relieved when they found me. “And there they are. Hey, Bellarino.” He’d just seen me twenty minutes before but acted as if we’d been apart for twenty days.
“Hi,” I said, sounding a little breathless.
“He’s trying to make me go golfing,” Nathan whined. He had a bag of Doritos and what looked to be a package of cookies. It wasn’t a full meal—there was no food at the campground today because of the event tonight—but it was enough to keep me from gnawing off an arm.
“I don’t want to go.” Nathan dropped the food on the counter and scampered over to me, easily evading Brody, who made a grab for his arm. “I want to stay here with you.”
“Why are you guys being so bossy?” I asked as Nathan leaned so he could rest his head in my lap. “Why can’t all of you go out and leave us behind?”
“Because that’s not how today is going to work.” Bree was full of self-confidence as she strode forward. “You two are being absolutely disgusting right now. Normally, that wouldn’t bother me?—”
“Yes, because it’s never all about you,” Nathan teased.
Bree ignored him. “You can’t make your whole lives about one another.”
“That’s rich coming from you,” Nathan shot back. “You and Brody have been all about each other for a freaking year at this point. It’s been two weeks for us.”
“Not nearly long enough,” I agreed, grinning.
“Never.” Nathan made kissy-face lips from my lap.
“Don’t make me get the hose… or a pitcher of gross lake water that you just know is full of parasites and will give you diarrhea if you get too much of it in your mouth,” Bree snapped.
Slowly, Nathan and I turned our attention to her in tandem.
“That was weirdly specific,” I said.
“She’s been reading on the internet,” Brody offered, not looking happy.
