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I close the lid on the grill and grab my beer, taking place next to him against the balcony. It’s all glass with silver railings, some would be terrified since we are on the twentieth floor, but I dig it.
“We’re doing great, man, we’re getting married in two weeks, which I meant to call you so we could invite you. I know it’s short notice.” I tell him the news Shayla and I decided last night. We don’t see any point in waiting and the damn caveman in me wants to give her my last name like yesterday.
“I wouldn’t miss it, why so soon?”
Partly because she is pregnant, but mainly, Shay and I have no reason to wait, we want to start our lives. Shit, this last week I found a house I want to take her to see, I know it’s all moving fast, but history makes it easier. We are not strangers who fell in love we are best friends who fell in love. Moving fast is as easy as it comes.
“We don’t see the point in waiting or having a big wedding. We’re going to have it on the beach, where I proposed.” I smile at the memory, like a cheesy fuck.
“Look at you, man, long gone. Shit, she’s got you fucking wrapped around her finger.” I know he doesn’t get it, he’s still learning, still growing, Ben is in the prime years of his career, booze, women, sex, he wouldn’t understand and I don’t judge him for it.
“Love, just you wait, man.” I nudge his arm with mine, taking the last sip of my beer.
“Fuck no, love is for mental people. No offense, dude.”
Laughing, I just shake my head. I hope I get front row seats to his ass falling in love. That’ll be a fucking ride. Bless that poor girl’s soul.
“Well then, I pity the poor woman who falls in love with you, Mr. Casanova.”
“I’m Casanova, what the fuck we talkin’ about?” Kingston interrupts, coming out with more beers and his own personal bag of chips. He’s the only one out of us that likes that revolting salt and vinegar shit.
“We were talking about Shay and the wedding.” Ben and I move to the table, I sit next to Ben and across from Kings. The deck of cards and poker chips are already on the table.
“Kings, flip the burgers and I’ll deal the cards.”
“Yes, sir,” he jokes, saluting me with his mouth around a handful of chips. I swear, I don’t get how his ass is so in shape. He’s always eating something.
“Do you always eat like a caveman?” Ben questions, picking up his stack of cards and looking at them.
“Oh, I eat all things like a caveman,” he says over his shoulder. Ben and I both throw our heads back laughing, that pervy motherfucker.
“Really, man, Lana’s my friend, I don’t need the imagery.” I shudder.
“You don’t, but I do,” Ben interjects. “Lana is fucking fine. Nice ass, tits—small but fucking nice.”
I swear I hear the utensils in Kingston’s hand crunch all the way from here. I just shake my head and finish setting up the game. I don’t need to look at Kings to know what’s about to happen.
“Watch it, Cooper, I’ll fucking rip your balls off and feed them to you.” I hear a slap over Ben’s head and shake mine with a smirk. Had it coming.
“Ow, I could always talk about Shayla’s fat tits…” Before he even finishes, I punch him right in his bicep, where that shit will fucking bruise.
“Fuck you. Don’t you dare even think of it, smug bastard.” Rubbing his arm, he smiles between Kings and I; he loves being a shit stirrer.
“Wow, you two are smitten pussies, damn, maybe I need to get some new friends.” We shake it off together and change the subject.
“Anyway, can we fucking play or are we gonna spend tonight beating the fuck out of your ass?” I question to Ben while Kings grunts next to me.
“Pussies, all right, let’s do this.”
TWO HOURS LATER
“YOU FUCKERS CLEANED ME OUT, I’m never playing poker with you again.” Watching the TV, we rip our eyes away and find Ben coming back in from the bathroom.
“We used fake chips.” Kingston counteracts.
“Yeah, I still hate losing fake money.”
“You’re an idiot,” I chime in. My feet are on the coffee table and my head is resting against the back of the couch, I’m relaxed. My phone dings in my pocket. I dig it out and see it’s from my woman.
