Page 55 of Dangle

Shut up, dude.

Priest

No. No. Mon frère. I will not shut up. You are…how did Ewen put it?

Texting bubbles appear and disappear, and I knew if we were in the same room his fingers would be tapping pursed lips until…

Priest

I got it.

…just that moment when the word came to him, and he snapped his fingers and pointed at whomever he was talking to.

Priest

Smitten. That’s what you are.

Before I could reply, Priest’s contact photo overtook my phone. “What’s up?” I asked when the call connected. Priest’s face—there one minute but gone the next—was replaced by Bauer, both of them bed-headed and bare-chested.

“You guys need to get on the plane.”

What the… “Bauer, what are you?—”

“There’s weather coming in,”he said.“If you guys don’t get in the air soon, you might be here for days, if we can get you out that soon.”

With the weather app on my phone open, I scrolled through the alerts, sighing. Living in the north again after so many years on the west coast, I still struggled with the huge shifts in weather. It was nearly spring. I shouldn’t be looking at forecasts about blizzards.

Putting Bauer on speakerphone, I rushed across the room and stripped the bed, tossing the dirty bedding toward the laundry room. “Where’s the clean bedding?” I asked, opening the closet, but finding only clothes.

“Why the hell are you worried about bedding?”Bauer asked.“Get your shit packed unless you want to be our guest for the next week.”

“I’m not leaving you with a dirty apartment to deal with. Where’s the clean bedding?”

“Nobody gives a shit about your cum stains,”Priest joked.

“There are no cum stains.”

“That’s a damn shame,”Priest said.

“Priest, I’m not leaving you with a mess. Now, tell me where the bedding is.”

Bauer yelled,“Pack your shit!”

Priest said, his words blending with Bauer’s,“It’s in a storage container under the bed.”

“He doesn’t have time to be playing housemaid. He needs to get to the damn airport.”

“Babe, you should know our boy Slone by now. You either quit fighting with him about making the bed and let him make the damn bed, or he wastes time making the bed anyway, and he misses the departure window before the storm hits.”

I dropped to my knees, pulled out the storage container, and started making the bed.

“What’s going on?”

My head lifted, and drool filled my mouth. Trey Malachek stood before me. A towel wrapped precariously around his waist. Cum ditches pointing to his dick—the dick slowly lifting the towel he wore—were on full display.

I hadn’t heard the bathroom door opening, or the shower turning off, or any of the other things. Instead of responding to his question, I yelled at my phone, “I have no fucking clue where Ewen went off to last night. I also don’t know how to get a hold of Trey’s teammates. Can you guys handle that shit?”

“We’ve got you covered. Trey can wear something warm of Gavin’s. He’ll never miss it. The kid’s got more clothes than all of us combined. We’ll have Trey’s buddies pack his shit. There’ll be a car waiting for you downstairs and one waiting for his teammates. And don’t worry about Ewen, we’ll take care of him.”