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Chapter Twenty-Five
Dylan
It’s been a couple of weeks since the whole phone misunderstanding thing and Tessa and I finally seem to have finally found our groove together.
Days are spent working and having lunch together, maybe sneaking in a make out session or two when we can. Nights are spent at my place or hers, making up for all that time we spent not hooking up.
And I have to say, it’s all been fucking fantastic.
Not just because we are now both all in, but also because I’m really starting to learn what she likes in the bedroom. Because fuck me, she certainly isn’t shy about telling me what she wants anymore. Or trying out any of my suggestions either.
I don’t know why I never pictured her being like this, but she is totally up for anything and everything and I really fucking love it. And I’m quickly discovering that in addition to being hella fun to hang out with and talk to outside of the bedroom, she’s a lot of fun inside the bedroom too.
I mean, alotof fun.
“Okay, but I mean seriously, Tom, that makes zero fucking sense to me,” comes Jack’s voice, interrupting my mental replay of this morning’s roll in the sack. “How can you say, ‘lucked out’ and it means you got lucky?”
“Because it does,” comes Tommy’s deadpan reply as they both walk into the shed.
“But no,” Jack says, shaking his head, his hands on his hips like this is a major problem for him, whatever it is they’re talking about. “Lucked out would imply you ran out of luck. Lucked in, means you got lucky. It’s fucking obvious.”
“Nope,” Tommy says, shaking his head as he smirks at Jack. “Lucked in means you’re shit outta luck. Lucked out…” he pauses, as if for dramatic effect. “You got lucky.”
Jack throws his arms up in the air. “Fucking seriously? This literally makes no sense,” he repeats, clearly frustrated at whatever this conversation is about. “I mean lucked out is getting lucky? What in the actual fuck, dude?”
Tommy just chuckles as he glances over at me, tipping his head in hello.
“What are you talking about?” I ask, wondering if I actually want to know. I mean don’t get me wrong, Jack is a great guy and he’s funny as hell, but he’s also the guy who insists on getting right up in your business, about pretty much everything.
“Lucked out,” Jack says, now turning to me. “It means you ran out of luck, right?”
I glance at Tommy who’s silently laughing before turning back to Jack. “Nope,” I say smiling. “You ran out of luck, you lucked in. Getting lucky is lucked out.”
“Ugh,” he groans. “God, you guys say some weird shit!”
“We do?” Tommy says, barking out a laugh. “Pretty sure you’re the one who says weird shit, Jack. We can all vouch for that.”
“Uh uh,” he says with a firm shake of his head. “This seriously makes no sense and I’m not gonna stand for it.”
Tommy and I both burst out laughing at the sheer arrogance of this guy who thinks he can somehow change the way we say things. “Yeah, good luck with that,” Tommy adds, punching him in the arm.
Jack rolls his eyes, and I can’t help but ask, “How did this even come up?”
I immediately regret my question when Jack turns to me, a sly grin on his face as he crosses his arms over his chest and hits me with that look he has when he’s about to be a total pain in the ass. “Funny you should ask,” he says, stepping toward me.
“Oh fuck,” I mutter, shooting a sideways glance at Tommy who’s biting his lip in an attempt to stop laughing.
“Oh fuck indeed,” Jack says, a brow raised. “Because this actual conversation came about when I found out that youmighthave been getting lucky.” He pauses as though to emphasize his point, before adding, “Or lucked in, as the sayingshouldgo, in my brand new kitchen!”
“Oh shit,” I say, shaking my head as I scrub a hand down my face and Tommy loses his battle with trying not to laugh.
“I mean seriously, Dylan,” Jack continues, scowling at the huge grin on my face, despite the fact he’s trying to tell me off. “I get my work here is done and all,” he says, waving a hand in my direction. “But if anyone’s gonna christen those counters, it’s gonna be me.Andmy wife.”
Tommy barks out a laugh now and for some reason, I too start laughing, unable to stop myself because as much as Jack is all huffing and puffing at me right now, I know he’s not really mad.
“Oh you think this is funny, huh?” he says, smirking in an attempt to try not to laugh too.
At this point I lose it, loving the fact that I’ve somehow gotten one over on Jack with this whole thing. I can’t control it, clutching my stomach as I bend over a little, actually laughing out loud. When I eventually get it together, I look over to find him smirking at me again.
