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Hope, Rock, Wrath, Trinity, Teller, and Charlotte are already situated around the fire. Z sets up a spot next to Hope’s chair, while Murphy plants two chairs next to Teller.
“Blanket or chair?” I ask Shelby.
“Blanket.” She wraps her arms around me. “So you can keep me warm.”
“Are you cold?”
“Not yet.”
“Hi, Hope.” Jigsaw braces his hands on the back of her chair and leans over. “You’re looking lovely this evening.”
“Hello, Jigsaw.” She smiles up sweetly at him. “You’re looking suicidal tonight.”
Like he has radar for anyone trying to cop a peek down his wife’s shirt, Rock body checks Jiggy away from his wife. “Control your RC, Prez,” he growls at Z.
Z snaps his fingers at me. “VP, come get your boy.”
Jiggy swipes one of the chairs out of my hands and flips it open next to us.
Eventually we’re all scattered around the fire. Dex and Z strike up a conversation about Crystal Ball.
“We can talk stripper business inside at the table.” Ravage claps his hands together to get everyone’s attention.
Once the conversation dies down, Ravage rubs his hands together like an evil party mastermind. “This is always a fun one. Who’s got the best losing their virginity story?”
“Who, exactly, is that fun for?” Teller asks.
Jigsaw and Ravage both raise their hands.
“Fuck this shit,” Murphy growls. He pulls Heidi out of her seat and the two of them move away from the ring of chairs, spreading out a blanket and dropping out of sight.
Jigsaw’s devious gaze bounces around the fire, landing on Shelby. “As the newcomer to the group, the respectful thing is to allow you to go first.”
“Fuck off,” I growl.
“No, no. I’m game.” Shelby leans forward and snags a can of soda from the cooler at Jiggy’s feet. “Too bad for you, it’s not that exciting a story.”
“Hey.” I nudge her shoulder. “You don’t have to do this.”
“They’re tryin’ to test me,” she whispers. “It’s fine.” She kisses my cheek.
Ravage raises his hand. “Jigsaw and I will be the ones to decide the merits of each story.”
“Well,” Shelby drawls, “I hate to be a southern cliché, but back of a pickup truck after a football game. Lasted about the length of a Dawson Roads song.”
“So that’s why there are so many country songs about tailgates?” Jigsaw snaps his fingers.
“Yup.” Shelby nods. “No doubt.”
“After a football game?” Ravage asks. “Not even prom or homecoming, or whatever you guys do down there? That’s just sad, Shelby.”
“I know.” She lets out a long, dramatic sigh. “In my defense, we won the state championship.”
The guys and most of the girls crack up.
“You’re so quiet over there, Rooster. No comment?” Jigsaw grins at me.
“Fuck off.” I know exactly what story he’s dying to share. Dickhead.
Sure enough, he sits forward, elbows resting on his knees, grinning like serial killer. “I volunteer to go next. Lost it to Rooster’s girlfriend at her parents’ lake house.”
I roll my eyes.
Rav and Stash fall over laughing.
“Ex-girlfriend, shithead.” I throw my empty, crumpled can at him and it bounces off the side of his head, landing on the ground.
“She talked about Rooster the entire fucking time.” Jiggy adopts a high-pitched whiny tone that’s remarkably similar to the voice of the girl in question. “‘Rooster tongues my clit this way. Rooster makes me come in five seconds. Rooster’s dick is three-feet long.’ You wanna talk about a boner-killer for a young, desperate lad?”
Shelby snorts, sitting forward and spitting soda everywhere. “Serves you right,” she coughs out.
That pulls a chuckle from me. I pat her back and hand her a paper towel.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Jigsaw whines.
“Bullshit,” I mutter.
“What happened?” Teller lobs a marshmallow at Jigsaw. “You tripped and your dick fell into her by accident?”
“Not quite.”
A few of the ol’ ladies squirm and shift their gazes away from the group. Don’t blame ’em. I’m not exactly loving this ‘game’ myself. “Can we move on to another topic?”
“No, no, no.” Stash wags his finger at me. “We’re missing some vital pieces of information. This is a serious violation of bro code. How’d Jigsaw ever earn his patch? You voted him in to the club after that?”
Laughing, I reach over to smack the back of Stash’s head. “What fucking bro code? This pre-dates the club. She and I had already broken up weeks before this went down.” I glance over at Jigsaw, who’s still grinning like an idiot. “I was thrilled he finally lost it so he’d shut the fuck up about it.”
“See?” Jigsaw nods. “My bro always has my back.”
Ravage turns his trouble-making face Hope and Rock’s way. Can’t wait to see how this ends. Maybe with a knife in his gut.
“Prez?” Ravage presses his fists together in a demented prayer pose and focuses on Rock. “We’ve never heard your story.”
Rock’s death glare should melt Rav into a puddle of goo any second now.
