Page 115 of Sour Notes

Damn, Nick’s killing it with the emotional punches today. I can’t take a third without letting something slip.

I hate all the fucking lies.

I’m lying to Mia about my feelings.

I’m lying to my best friend about my problems.

I’m lying to everyone about our entire fucking relationship.

And I’ve been lying to myself about being okay with it all.

I’m not okay with it. I’m not okay at all.

Standing abruptly, the chair makes a jarring screech on the floor.

“Shit, sorry. Thanks, bro. I’ll always keep Mia safe, you have my word on that. I need to get back and check on her.” I slap him on the back, downing what’s left of my coffee. That was a mistake as I try to swallow past a gag.

“Say hey from me. Oh, and let me know if she isn’t well enough by tonight. It’s the Mr. & Mrs. Quiz Night and I signed you two up to play against us. Worked out perfectly that you’re dating because otherwise that douchebag would’ve tried his luck, and no one wants that bullshit. If she isn’t up to it, text me, and I’ll switch nights.”

He did what? What the fuck is a Mr. & Mrs. Quiz Night?

“Uh, does she know about it?” I aim for a neutral tone. I don’t want him to think anything’s off, but Jesus fuck. This is the last thing we need.

“Nah, but she’s always up for a game night. And it’s not like it’s hard to answer shit about each other, amiright? Figured she wouldn’t mind. Mom and Dad are doing it too,” he adds, amusement in his tone.

“Ha. Poor Taki.” I chuckle, shaking my head.

“Tell me about it. Still not quite sure how Mom managed to set it up.” He grins up at me. “Pretty sure your mom had something to do with it.”

“That figures. They’re both meddlers. Okay bro, I’ll talk to her and let you know what she says.”

If I can get her to say anything to me at all.

If you’d asked me to guess what I’d find Mia doing when I got to our room, never in a million years would I have guessed this.

Unlocking the door, I walk inside and her head immediately jerks up at me, her still too pale face shocked and a little… sheepish? Her perfect lips part in that seductive little O she inadvertently loves teasing me with and my dick surges painfully, threatening to tent my sweats.

This poor fucker hasn’t got the memo that she’s off the menu from here on out though.

Thank fuck I’d had the foresight to grab some briefs this morning, which helps halt it in its tracks. The last thing I need is to pop wood after the other day’s satanic yoga fuckery.

“Uhhh… hi?” Her words trail off at the end in a question, her pretty face flushing.

“Hey yourself.” Tension seeps out of my body in relief at the sight before me and I can’t contain the smirk playing over my lips.

I’ve seen a lot of shit in my time. You can’t avoid it doing what I do, but something I never would’ve guessed I’d see anywhere, let alone at midday on a random weekday in Santorini?

My girl, surrounded by a plethora of dicks.

On our bed.

Not real dicks. If they were, I sure as shit wouldn’t be smirking.

Fuck no.

Heads. Would. Roll.

Mia sits as if she’s the pot of gold at the end of a rainbow. If that rainbow were multicolored silicone dicks in varying shapes and sizes and every color under the sun.