“Ask me what?” queries Ava, walking back into the kitchen.
Jorgie’s roughish eyes shift from me to Ava. “Hugo wants to know if you’re a v--,”
My hand shoots up to cover Jorgie’s mouth before she gets the chance to ask her bold question. She waggles her brows as a fiery ember ignites her eyes, believing she’s secured a vault full of ammunition in our long-running prank game.
The victory in her eyes dampens when I mutter, “Do you recall where my hands were earlier?” in a smug tone.
Jorgie’s appearance becomes gaunt, like it did the first three months of her pregnancy. After giving her a few moments to absorb the scandalousness of my prank, I grandly wink before removing my hands from her mouth. A puff of air escapes my lips when she ribs me with her elbow and knees me in the backside. She sneers at me as her hands dart out to grasp a glass of sparkling apple cider that she guzzles down at breakneck speed.
“It’s alcohol-free, Jorgie; it ain’t going to burn away my cooties,” I jest, my tone full of cheekiness.
“I can pretend,” she garbles between mouthfuls.
My neck cranks faster than a missile being fired from a jet when a male voice snickering filters through my ears. The muscles in my stomach tense when I see Ava being clasped around the waist by an African American man. My brows scrunch as my eyes roam over a face I’ve seen many times before. Even though seven years has passed since I last laid my eyes on him, he still has the same clipped close-to-the-scalp afro, prominent nose, dark green eyes, mocha skin coloring, and arrogant grin he’s always had.
“Marvin,” I greet, holding my tongue from calling him his infamous nickname.
Marvin was adeptly given the nickname of “pencil dick” during our final year of high school. It was because… Hold on, does a title like that need an explanation? It is pretty self-explanatory. Alright, for those of you who are a little slow on the uptake, it means his dick is long and skinny – like a pencil.
“Hugo,” he greets me, removing one of his hands from Ava’s waist to offer a shake.
I suffocate a growl rumbling up my chest before accepting his handshake. It isn't that I want to possessively stake a claim to Ava, but Marvin is a dawg, and he knows it. Even with his less-than-impressive male appendage, he is one of the biggest bed hoppers in our hometown. It was the whole reason his nickname spread like an out-of-control wildfire during summer break before our final year of high school. It is also the reason why he has had so many bed companions – they never want to return for round two. I know Ava was naïve in her younger years, but even if she has been living under a rock the past few years, she’d have to be aware of Marvin’s reputation now.
"Hey, Marvin," Jorgie says, leaning in and placing a kiss on the side of his cheek. "Ava said she was bringing a friend to dinner; she just failed to mention it was a male."
Jorgie’s surprise at Ava’sdateis clearly audible in her voice. With Ava’s caramel skin coloring, it takes a lot to make her blush, but the slightest hue of pink adorns her cheeks from the stern glare Jorgie is directing at her. Ava’s gaze flicks to me when Marvin hands Jorgie a bottle of Duckhorn Napa Valley Cabernet Sauvignon, soundlessly gauging my reaction to her arriving with a date. The concern marring her face fades when I smirk and wink at her. In the past, I did have someslightjealousy issues when it came to men wanting to get close to Ava. But this time is different. I havenothingto be worried about. The guy has a pencil dick for crying out loud.
* * *
For the next three hours,things go surprisingly well. Marvin and I had a lot of mutual friends in school, so the conversation flowed nearly as freely as the alcohol in his wine glass did. I gave Marvin updates on the guys he’d lost contact with, and he rambled incessantly about himself. The only good thing that has come from his long-winded tirade is that I discovered why a woman like Ava would agree to go on a date with a man like Marvin. His dad owns the dentistry practice Ava has been offered a position at, and Marvin is already a partner at the same practice, even with him only finalizing his dentist credentials two months ago.
A small chuckle escapes my lips when Jorgie awakens from her latest powernap. As riveting as Marvin believes his conversation has been, I swear on at least three occasions, Jorgie has fallen asleep on the sofa. It is only when Ava nudges her with her elbow does she wake up. Jorgie's surprised eyes bounce between three sets of eyes staring at her. She appears utterly confused. My laughter becomes uncontainable when she wipes away a smattering of drool from the bottom of her chin.
“You might need to cut back on those apple ciders, Sis,” I playfully quip.
In true Jorgie style, she screws up her nose and sticks out her tongue.
“We should probably get going anyway,” Ava says, shifting her gaze to Marvin, who is eagerly nodding at her statement.
“Oh no, don’t go,” Jorgie pleads when Ava stands from the couch and gathers the beer bottles from the table. “It’s only just hitting nine PM on a Saturday.”
Ava's eyes drift between Marvin and Jorgie while she silently contemplates. Her brows are pulled together tightly, her lips pursed.
“I have that paperwork I need to do,” Marvin mutters, glaring at Ava, soundlessly reprimanding her for wanting to stay out on a Saturday night.
"Okay," she whispers so faintly it's only just audible.
Jorgie huffs, and her shoulders sag when Ava turns to face her. She doesn’t need to speak, Jorgie can see her decision marred all over her disappointed face.
“Party pooper,” Jorgie mumbles when Marvin raises a cell phone to his ear to call a taxi.
Jorgie's gloomy mood continues the entire time we wait on the front porch for their taxi to arrive. Thankfully, since it is still early, it only takes five minutes for a yellow cab to pull into the driveway. Ava propels herself from the wicker chair when she spots the taxi, no doubt eager to get away from the thick stench of awkwardness plaguing our group. Jorgie's never had the ability to conceal her anger, and for the past five minutes, her obvious annoyance has been firmly rapt on Marvin.
A smirk etches on my mouth when Ava turns her dark brown eyes to me. “It was good seeing you again, Hugo,” she whispers. The twinkle in her eyes relays the truth of her statement.
I lean in and wrap my arms around her shoulders before pulling her into my chest. My nostrils flare when they detect the aroma of the chocolate truffles she ate for dessert. She smells delicious. Almost good enough to eat. Chocolate and strawberries have always been a mouth-watering combination.
Where the fuck did that notion come from?
