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“Better figure it out.”
“Well, if you let me finish…” I reply, but she gives me a harsh glare in response.
“Sounds like someone doesn’t want to come today at all.” It’s a warning, because I’m being mouthy. And I know better, but I can’t help it. She puts me in these situations, and my natural instinct is to talk back.
The first thing to go on is the ring. It sits snugly behind my balls and over my finally flaccid dick. After that, the front part slides around my shaft, locking it into place with the ring so that my balls are hanging free between the ring and the cage. It’s constricting, and I’m not quite sure how I’m going to function normally with this thing on. I’m soawareof it.
“Everyone is going to see this thing,” I complain.
“No, they won’t,” she replies. “Now go get dressed.”
She reaches up on her tiptoes and kisses my mouth sweetly, before dangling the tiny key in my face and disappearing out of her office and heading up to her room.
“Evil fucking woman,” I mumble to myself, unable to keep the grin off my face as I do.
* * *
We haveto drive separately to the event, of course. Maggie is one of Charlie’s bridesmaids, right next to Mia and Isabel, with Sophie as her maid of honor. My dad picked Garrett for his best man—for obvious reasons. Under any other circumstance, I think he would have chosen me, but in this case, I’m just a groomsman, and even that is awkward as fuck.
When I arrive at the venue, a beachfront gazebo not far from his house with a large green garden and plenty of seating, I spot Maggie already in conversation with Charlie and the girls by the makeshift altar. My dad spots me with a smile and waves me over.
He’s by himself for now, Garrett and the other guys congregating by the entrance. Being alone with my dad makes me instantly uncomfortable—made even worse by the metal cage currently secured around my dick.
He claps a hand on my shoulder. “Glad you could make it.”
I nod with a tight-lipped smile. “Of course. It’s your wedding. Well…the rehearsal.”
“Yeah, but I understand this is uncomfortable for you,” he replies, and just like that, we’ve treaded over casual and right into awkward and heavy.
“I’m really past that. Seriously. I’m happy for you,” I mutter, without looking him in the eye. I’m staring down at my shoes as I kick the grass with my toe.
“I’m so glad, Beau. That means a lot.”
When I look up, I pray that someone, anyone, will join us to break the tension. Hell, at this point, I’m praying for a hurricane to randomly hit the California coast and wipe us all out.
“You know…” His hand is back on my shoulder, and he squeezes it in a way that lets me know he’s about to say something serious.
Come on, hurricane.
“I only asked Garrett to be my best man because I knew it would be too hard for you. But you’re—"
“I know, Dad,” I say, cutting him off. “I know. It’s fine.”
He lets out a heavy breath before releasing my shoulder. “I just want you to be happy, Beau.”
“I am happy,” I say, and for the first time in a long time, I mean it. I just wish I could tell him that part.
“You seem it. Something’s changed,” he replies. “Are you seeing someone?”
“No,” I answer quickly, “I just…don’t bother caring so much anymore.”
“About me?” he asks.
“About the things that used to piss me off. The club, Charlie, you and Mom breaking up. Being mad was so exhausting. It’s nice to just…not care anymore.”
“Whatdoyou care about?” he asks, and I genuinely didn’t see that question coming. It catches me off guard. I swallow, thinking about the things that have been taking priority in my life lately.
“The people…that make me want to be better.” Well, that was a whole lot more insightful than I intended it to be.
