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My cast is finally off my left arm, which hasn’t inhibited me too much since I’m right-handed. But not having another hand to use for months definitely made some tasks harder than others. However, two-and-a-half months later, I’m finally starting to feel normal again, but physical therapy is on the horizon to get my entire strength back so I can eventually do the things I did before, like pole dancing. God, I’ve missed those classes.
Noelle comes over at that moment and grabs a carrot from the veggie tray, dips it in ranch, and pops it in her mouth. “Might want to lower your voice with the dirty talk, Ethan.”
Ethan stands up straight and looks her dead in the eye. “I have no shame in anyone knowing how much I love and want this woman. And if you guys can’t handle it, then don’t listen.”
And then Noelle shakes her head at him. “At least someone is getting laid.” She crunches down on the orange stick. “And why is it that two of my best friends can find men that teeter that line of asshole and softy, but I couldn’t?”
“I thought you swore off men?” Ethan counters as he takes one of the potato skins off the plate and inhales half of it.
“Well, while I’m trying to get pregnant, I kind of have to.”
“Who’s getting pregnant?” Jeffrey walks up to us, holding a beer.
“Me,” Noelle answers. “First implantation starts next month. Fingers crossed it takes, and I’ll have a baby before Christmas.”
“If you have a baby on Christmas Eve, we will share a birthday!” Oliver shouts as he runs past us and down the hall. Noelle giggles at him.
Jeffrey’s eyes bug out of his head. “Implantation? Like with a turkey baster?” He gestures squeezing the bulb on such a device with his free hand. “What’s wrong with the good old-fashioned way? Or is that out of style now?” He looks between the three of us. “Have I been out of the game for so long that people aren’t even having sex anymore to make babies?” he asks, panicked.
Damien walks up behind him and smacks him on the back of the head. “Jesus, Jeffrey. This is why you don’t get invited places.”
Noelle chuckles, and Jeffrey rubs the spot on his skull that just took a beating. “It’s okay. Sort of. I’m choosing to have a child via sperm donor, so no actual sex will be taking place, sadly.”
Jeffrey frowns. “Well, damn. It sounds to me like you just took the fun out of the baby-making process.”
“Yeah, it’s so fun trying to find a man who is normal, good in bed, isn’t afraid of commitment, and wants children right away.” Noelle rolls her eyes. “I’m tired of that nonsense.”
“Well, I will gladly step in and volunteer as tribute,” Jeffrey says, holding his hand in the air. “I can make this guy down here go from six to noon in a heartbeat.” He points to his crotch.
Damien smacks his head again. “What is with you, man?”
“Jesus, will you stop doing that?”
Noelle reaches over and places her hand on Jeffrey’s shoulder. “I appreciate the offer, Jeffrey, but I found the father of my child, and I didn’t even have to endure a date from hell to get his swimmers.” With a smirk, she grabs a potato skin and walks off.
“You can’t just go up to people talking about your dick, man,” Damien chastises Jeffrey as Ethan and I watch, his arms back around my waist as he pulls me into his chest.
“Noelle’s the one who brought up sperm,” he counters. “But don’t worry, I won’t whip it out or anything, even though it’s been a while since the little guy has seen any action.”
“Perhaps the problem is that you’re referring to him as ‘the little guy,’” Ethan mutters from behind me, making us laugh.
“My dick is not little, okay? He’s average, more than enough to get the job done.”
“What ever happened with that girl from the Los Angeles Times dinner, the hostess you were flirting with?” Ethan asks.
“We went out a couple of times. It was nice. I swear, I never knew that being a creator of an advertisement for period products would help me with the ladies, but it didn’t go very far.”
“You didn’t…you know…get any action with her?” Ethan asks while rubbing my hip with his finger, making my body heat up.
Jeffrey drops his head, rubbing the back of his neck. “Nope. When we went out, I told her I wanted to take things slow, but she just wanted in my pants.” He holds his hands up in defense again. “And I know, I’m here complaining about not getting any action, but in all honesty, I’m looking for a connection too. I don’t want to just sleep with a bunch of women. I want what you guys have,” he says, gesturing to Ethan and me and Damien just as Charlotte walks up.
“Jeffrey, you’re a good guy, honey,” Charlotte says, wrapping her arm around his shoulder. “You’ll find the right woman for you. Just be patient. But honestly, none of us were looking for the other person when it happened. Hell, I never thought in a million years I’d be engaged to Damien at this point in my life.”
“Yeah, stop looking for the person. I’ve heard that before. But that’s easy for you to say. You’re in love. You snagged this guy right here, and now you’re happy. You’re so far past the point of remembering what it’s like to be single that your perception of the dating world is fuzzy.”
“It was more like I snagged her, but whatever.” Damien reaches over and hauls Charlotte into his chest, kissing her lips and then bringing her hand where her engagement ring lies up to his mouth and kissing that finger as well. “But in four months, she’s going to be Mrs. Damien Shaw, and I can’t fucking wait.”
“Me neither, babe,” Charlotte replies before they kiss. Nick found them a house they moved into last month, and now it’s just the countdown to their wedding.
Jeffrey rolls his eyes before draining the rest of his beer and walking toward the fridge. “I need another drink if I have to endure all the happy couples for the rest of the afternoon.”
Suddenly the door slams open, and Penelope appears with two bottles of champagne held high up in the air. “The party is here, bitches!”
“Aunt Penelope, you said a bad word!” Oliver rushes over to her.
Penelope drops her arms and looks down at him. “You’re right. I’m sorry, Ollie. But one day, when you’re an adult, you’ll understand why we say bad words all the time.”
“Why?”
