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And Emery Davidson is the best kind of challenge there is.
“Why’d you make it in the first place then, Em?” I step closer to her, slightly lowering my voice. I watch as her throat bobs, and she takes a small step back.
“Because we were drunk and stupid. It’s just a stupid list. Don’t take it seriously, Graham.”
With that, she spins on her heel and leaves me standing there. My eyes never leave her as she gathers her bag and water bottle, drops a quick kiss on Holland’s cheek and leaves.
I shake my head. “Number fucking five. Can you believe that shit?” I grumble all the way to the trash, where I fish the list off the top and unwrinkle it. Emery’s feminine handwriting stares back at me.
“Did you seriously just get that out of the trash?” Holland asks.
“Hell yes, I did. I’m holding on to this. What’s Emery’s deal anyway? Why does she hate me so much?”
Holland pulls her lip between her teeth and looks down at the bottle in her hands before looking up at me. “I don’t know, Graham. I just think she doesn’t like guys who…”
“Guys who what?”
“You know guys who are players. She’s been burnt pretty badly in the past.”
I mull over her words. “So, because I like to fuck, she hates me?”
Reed chooses that moment to stroll back into the kitchen, Olive and Evan trailing behind him. “Language. And why are you talking about fucking with my wife.” He whispers the word, ‘fucking’ to avoid Olive and Evan hearing.
Holland laughs and tells him what happened over the last few.
“And I’m sorry I asked. Graham, don't get any ideas. I’ll have to rip your arms off and beat you to death with them.”
Ignoring him, I walk over to Evan and offer him my fist. “Uncle G has to go but see you soon, okay bud?”
He nods and bumps my fist, then skips off, leaving the adults alone.
“I’m going to the gym,” I tell them, then pick up the still slightly crinkled paper from the counter. “And I’m taking this with me.”
Five.
Last on the damn scorecard.
Anything less than number one is a no-go for me.
There’s lots of times where I don’t mind coming last.
Like when I’m between a girl's thighs.
But five? With a face like this?
Nah.
You know what? Fuck no. I’m not accepting this. If Emery Davidson thinks I’m not even in the top three, I’ll show her that I always come first, well… that is after she does.
Starting with my tongue, followed by my cock.
My friends are dicks. Okay, not entirely true, but the fact that they’re laughing like it’s the funniest shit they’ve ever heard right now, makes them dicks.
“Stop fucking laughing.” I grunt. “You three are assholes.”
Asher, Hudson, Briggs and I have been skating all morning, but I’ve only now told them the reason I’ve been in such a shit mood, after skating out my frustration all morning.
The fact that I’m in a shit mood is what brought the topic up in the first place. I’mneverin a bad mood. I try to make the best out of everything. It’s one of my best traits.
