Page 90 of Joey

“And this is…” He pans a hand at my friends behind me.

I glance at them once more time. Shirtless. Belts undone. Huck’s pants aren’t even buttoned, just zipped. Brook looks like she just got fucked by three alpha men. Her hair is a sexy mess, her dress is crooked, and her eye makeup is smeared—either from the story she just told or possibly just being face-fucked by Huck twenty minutes ago.

“What do you want?” I say, looking back at Parker.

He reaches inside his suit coat and pulls out an envelope. “Your formal invitation for this weekend.” He’s handing it to me when he says this, and I’m reaching for it when he pulls it back. “But… who are these men?”

I snatch the envelope out of his hand and open it up. “This says Friday, not Saturday.”

“Right. They would like you to spend the night, Mr. Boston. Two nights, actually. We’ve hired psychologists to evaluate your interaction with Miss Kane.”

“OK,” I say. “Fine, I guess.”

“Is this your girlfriend?” Parker asks. “Brooke Alder?”

“Yes,” Brooke says. “That’s me.” And I can hear her hard swallow as she answers.

“Her name is already on the invitation.”

“Great,” I say. “We’ll see you then.” I start to close the door, but Parker slaps it open again with the heel of his palm. “I’m sorry. Who lives here?”

“All of us,” Wald says.

“And you are?”

“Wald Wynn,” he says.

“And he is?” Parker points to Huck.

“Newtown,” he says. “Huck Newtown.”

“I should’ve had this information already,” Parker says.

“What information?” I ask.

“Your… living arrangements. If that’s what this is.”

Huck takes a step forward, a weird growling noise coming from his throat. I put a hand out and stop him, the back of my fingertips brushing along the bare skin of his stomach.

“I’ll let everyone know you’ll be bringing a… plus three.”

“That’s not necessary,” I say. “It will just be Brooke and I.”

“No,” Parker says. “It won’t. If you ever want to see your daughter in this house, you’ll bring them all.”

Then he turns his back to me and makes the long descent down our front yard and out onto the street.

“Someone shut the gate,” I say, still watching Parker as he gets into a silver car and starts it up.

Someone does that. Because the gate begins to shut.

I close the door and look at them.

It is so very, very clear what we’re doing here in this house there’s no way Parker missed it.

“Well, that was a buzzkill,” Huck says. But then he grabs a hold of Brooke and pulls her into a hug.

“What are you doing?” she protests and laughs.