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“I think you need to give her the Heimlich maneuver.” Hunter grunted, and I knew Kristen tried to kick him back under the table.
“Without tongue of course, she’s not drunk enough to put up with you even if you’re saving her life. Come back in two more drinks.” I winked at him.
“Cute, Taylor, which by the way, how come I had to find out from this assclown you’re back in town? You don’t call, you don’t write, and now you’re buying real estate? Hello, fancy-pants, Shark Tank mogul.”
“Did you really miss me, Damien?”
“I’m wounded, Taylor. Deeply. Wounded.” Mocking me, Damien clutched his chest, wobbling in the chair he occupied. Ever the drama queen, he often rivaled Kristen for the Oscar. A big ass smile dimpled his already chiseled face while his hair kept that rakish flop.
“I was under the impression that as long as we weren’t screwing I didn’t owe you a text back?”
“Haha! That’s a zinger, Taylor.” Kristen gave me a high five, and we snickered.
“Well, now I’m back, and Hunter can enlist your help on our little project.” I clapped my hands together and watched Hunter’s face fall into a grin just for Damien.
“Oh fucking hell, I knew there was a catch. Yeah, okay, I’m not as butt hurt now that you didn’t write or call. I’d rather get a spider bite.” He stood from his seat when Kristen gripped his arm with a less than playful pinch.
Kristen, who was now well into her second drink, snorted. “That can be arranged.”
“Real nice, Pebbles. Remind me to keep walking next time you need a favor.” Damien snagged a boneless BBQ chicken tender and bit it in half, chewing as he sat back down scootching his chair away from my bestie, the new black widow.
It seemed I missed a few things that had been going on since my sojourn downstate. I was glad to be back in the circle of my friends, surrounded by their unwavering if crazy support. I was going to need them now more than ever and I wasn’t sure yet how much to confide in them given I’d already roped them into my project without knowing exactly how bad things were on my end. I felt the guilt deep and shame deeper, but I pushed it down, focused on what I could control, and that was finishing this House of Horrors that Hunter dubbed it when he didn’t think I was listening.
“Oh, so here’s something we can do.” An audible groan followed Kristen’s suggestion. I swore if she said bar hop I was out of there real quick.
“Hit us, Miss Trouble.” Hunter finally let go of my ankle under the table before he squeezed it and leaned back. He took a swig of his beer, placing an arm around the back of the booth, which I noticed was behind his date. His fingers rubbed Brittany’s hair and for some reason it grated on my nerves when I knew it shouldn’t. We were friends. Best friends. He could rub whatever he wanted on Brittany, even if his hand had just been connected to my ankle like a thief under the table. The worst part was forcing myself to smile through it all.
“So I was putting my makeup on this morning and thinking to myself—”
“Perish the thought of two of her brain cells masturbating while she rolled on her eyeliner,” Damien muttered, taking a drink of his beer.
Kristen rolled her eyes and continued, “What if the person you’re with really isn’t your soul mate?”
“Well, seeing as how we’re all single except for Hunter here.” Nodding in his direction, I pointed at Kristen, willing her to shut up or pretend to choke on a loaded potato boat before I did the job for her.
“What if it’s someone you already know?”
“Oh God, where do you hear this shit, Pebbles? Cue the Hallmark channel.” Damien grabbed another chicken tender and signaled to Remi, who had a large margarita in her hands to cut off Kristen’s next round.
“Please, I watch the Oprah channel and Dr. Phil like every good female,” Kristen said, popping a bite of food into her mouth.
“Might prove a challenge for Damien here. He?
?s got quite the stable, you know.” Hunter chuckled.
“I like to consider it my vast array of choices, thank you very much.” Damien wagged his eyebrows and I discretely moved Kristen’s fork on my side while she was busying chewing the bacon on her potato boat. I didn’t feel like a trip to the ER for a fork stabbing tonight.
“Sure you do, cousin.” Hunter winked at me as we all glanced around the table.
“You know I like chestnut, bay, palomino, black, sable.” Damien pointed around the bar at different women with the corresponding hair colors until he got to Kristen, rolling his eyes. “But not whatever the hell that is....”
Kristen smacked his arm, and both Hunter and I grabbed them to stop further abuse of each other... so much for maintaining neutrality status.
“Uh-huh.” Damien shrugged off the pony comments and continued picking on Kristen.
“It’s not like KC here who hooked up with every cop in town.” He was scowling, looking every bit the namesake Kristen has bestowed on him.
“Low blow Demon, it was only one cop and you’re mad because we’re still seeing each other recreationally.”
