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“Then why are you being such a shit?”
“Because I work really hard to keep the P word out of my head when it comes to you. Because BFFs aren’t supposed to even think about the P word. You’re supposed to be, like, asexual.”
I snort. “I can assure you that I’m far from asexual.”
“You are?”
“Well, yeah. I like sex as much as the next person.”
“Oh, God,” he whines.
“Now you sound like one of the kids. What is wrong with you?” I hiss at him.
“You used the P word and now all I can think about is the P word!” he hisses back. He looks quickly to the back seat, but the kids are busy yelling at one another, so they’re not listening.
“The P word, that’s what you’re thinking about right now? Spe
cifically, my P word?”
“Yes, the P word. The only P word that matters.”
“A lot of P words matter.” I grin at him.
“Not as much as that one does. Particularly when it’s yours.”
A hot silence fills the van.
“I know a lot of P words!” Anna calls out from way in the back.
“Oh, good!” Mick calls back. “Let’s play a game and think of all the words we can find that start with P!”
“Pumpkin!” Devon yells.
They go back and forth until they start screaming about who used the word pickle first.
“I think we should find a room for the night,” Mick says.
“Yes, please,” I say with a groan. “Maybe something with a pool. We could take them swimming in the morning and wear them out.”
“Oh, that sounds like fun!” Mick rubs his hands together with excitement.
We find a hotel and Mick goes in to register us. “Let’s get our bags, guys,” I say. Then the screaming starts as I try to get the two youngest kids out of their car seats. I hoist one onto each hip.
“I’m hungry!” Anna yells.
“I’m starving!” Devon yells back.
“I’m hungrier than you are,” Anna says.
Mick comes back outside carrying a key card. “Well, I’m hungrier than all of you,” Mick calls out as he pretends to bite a hunk out of Anna and Devon. He smacks his lips together. “You taste like…chicken!”
Anna laughs and the kids each grab a bag. Mick gets the two portable cribs and I slam the door of the van shut with my hip.
“What about me?” I whisper to Mick as we walk across the parking lot. A shiver runs down my spine.
“What about you?” he whispers back.
“What do I taste like?”
