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“I’m everything that’s light. I meditated this morning with Jenny.”
“Who the hell is Jenny?”
“A friend.”
“No, she’s not. You went out last night and ended up in bed together. You need to watch it. That thing will fall off.”
“At least it’s not growing barnacles.”
“I do all right,” Sawyer muttered.
“If you don’t use it, you lose it,” J.D. taunted. “Surely you’re over that bitch by now?”
His friend had tattooed the name on his arm when Sawyer was balls deep in love. He was now covering it up.
“Who?”
J.D. snorted. “That rich-town bitch who broke your heart when you lived in LA. I thought it was risky getting her name on your arm.”
“Thanks for the heads-up,” Sawyer muttered.
“Would you have listened?”
No, he wouldn’t have listened because he’d been in love for the first time in his life.
“Don’t fuck with Birdie is all I’m saying,” J.D. said.
“She’s my brother’s friend, and it’s insulting you think I would,” Sawyer said.
“Not intentionally, but you’re clueless about emotions, and I’m talking other people’s. If your family didn’t slap you in the face with them daily, you’d walk about in this emotionless void. That bitch made you a cold-hearted bastard.”
“Is there a reason you’re insulting me so early in the day? Don’t tell me your junk has stopped working after all that use. I hear those diseases play hell with your ability to rise.”
“My junk works just fine, unlike yours, which hasn’t been out of your pants in months,” J.D. said. “And use some fucking beard oil for pity’s sake. That looks like someone stuck a bird’s nest to your face!” His friend tugged on Sawyer’s facial hair.
“Will you two shut up!” Nina appeared, looking angry. “I have Mrs. Hawker in. She’s taking in every word you’re saying and just reached for her phone to record your conversation for her next women’s auxiliary meeting.”
J.D. waved her away but lowered his voice.
“What the hell is beard oil?” Sawyer asked.
“Does your mother know you’ll never give her grandbabies?”
“Because I don’t use beard oil, I won’t have babies?” Sawyer asked.
“That ‘country boy, I found these clothes under my mattress this morning’ look, isn’t going to work for you long term. You need to sharpen up.”
“Just do what I came here for, pretty boy. I do fine without beard oil and a closetful of labeled shit, unlike you,” Sawyer muttered.
“Just out of curiosity, why did you, of all people, allow that bitch to get her name on your arm? Even when you were thinking with your dick because you still used it, surely you’re smarter than that?” J.D. waved his hand at the tattoo on Sawyer’s shoulder that was a constant reminder of how gullible he’d been.
“You about done with the insults?”
“Jolena,” J.D. said, reading the black ink. “That must slap you in the face every time you look at it.”
“And I’m sitting here so you can do something about it,” Sawyer snarled.
“Why’d it take you so long?” J.D. asked. “Did you realize there were no Jolenas in Lyntacky, after all?”
