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“Yeah, you want to marry our baby?” Kingston follows. Other than loving him because he’s my best friend, my favorite thing about him is how much he loves Shayla. It’s his best quality to date.
“I do, and don’t worry, Kings, I’ll still let you see her—occasionally,” I banter, attempting to lighten the mood.
“I was so proud when she told me she was dating you.” Tom steers the conversation.
Damn, thanks, Tom, the vote of confidence is strong with this one, making me feel a little less nervous.
“Then I saw the way you always had some form of physical contact with her. Checking the room and her pathway at all times for any danger that could come for her.” His choice of words has my chest tightening, his shaky voice adding to the effect.
“Then, when she said those things about you and Pops at the funeral, I looked over at you. Your eyes were fucking glued to my baby.” I smirk, her words stayed in my soul that day, for forever. “I knew in that instant that I found the man who would take her away from me and be the new keeper of her heart. I may be her dad, but you’re her lifeline.”
I wipe away the tear that falls from my eye. I swear, before I met Shayla, I never fucking cried. This woman made me a man, one with feelings.
“No, she’s mine,” I admit. Shayla has been my lifeline this whole time. Every downfall and every hardship, she has been the steady pulse pumping through my system and keeping me alive.
“We would love to have you in our family, legally. You know you’ve been like a son to me anyway,” Tom confesses, and I let out a shaky laugh. That’s so damn true.
“You little fucker, I love you like a brother, but you mess this up and I’ll hate you like my fucking enemies. Got it?” Kingston gives me his best threat.
“I won’t.”
“No, Trey, I fucking mean it, that’s my sister. Shit, she’s my best fucking friend, and I really don’t think you understand what taking her hand means. It means you can’t hurt her or let her down. You fucking better treat her like gold.” His voice cracks on the last part. I know that he’s serious, and I know if I ever let her down—which I never fucking will—he would end me. Little does he know that I’ll never let Shayla go, once she says yes, she’s mine forever, and I will treat her like royalty, like gold, like a goddess.
“I won’t,” I promise him again. “It might take me a couple of times to get it right, but I will.”
“I swear, Trey, don’t let me down, but most importantly, don’t let my baby down.” Kingston finishes, sniffling then coughing, erasing all evidence of feelings. Damn.
“I wouldn’t let you marry my princess if I thought you were stupid enough to ruin it,” Tom pipes in.
I guess I need to have some fucking bro time when I get back, you know, talk with Kingston and make sure he’s really okay with this.
“Anyway, tell us what you’re going to do,” Tom asks, and I inform them, like I did Kathy, with what my plan is.
“Dude, you are such a fucking pussy, did you Pinterest that shit?” Kingston brings attention to himself, his humor back in full swing.
“Okay, you boys talk, I need to go finish working on the yard. Hurry out, Kings, I need your help. Trey, do me proud. Good luck, son.”
“Thanks, I will, I promise.” With that he leaves.
“No, but really, that’s cheesy.” He repeats.
“Fuck you, you’re just jealous because I’m a romantic and you, Neanderthal, don’t even know how to fucking spell it.”
“Yeah, I can, watch. I-a-m-a-s-e-x-y-m-o-t-h-e-r-f-u-c-k-e-r. Boom!” I roll my eyes, so far back they could do a full three sixty.
“You are such a fucking moron.” He scoffs and I laugh, looking back to the door one more time. I see Shayla wrapped in a towel, going through her suitcase, she looks beautiful fresh from the bath. I wink at her and she smiles.
“On a real note, fucking Lana all the time isn’t considered romantic, shit head.”
“Suck a dick, we do more than fuck. Last night I took her out to a nice dinner and I even bought her flowers, like a fucking modern day Romeo.”
“Aw good for you, buddy, look at you go.” I mock him, standing up and looking out at the water.
“Look at me go, those fucking flowers got me the best sex I’ve ever had. See, romance is my middle name.” I cringe. Lana’s like my sister, I don’t need to picture my big meathead best friend fucking her. I know just the remedy.
“Oh, well I still have you beat because when Shayla saw the beach house, holy fuck she let me eat—”
“Fuck off! No! God, I fucking hate you.” Kingston’s angry voice echoes through the phone, and I laugh, throwing my head back and holding my stomach. Fuck that was good.
