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"No," she squeaks. "It was only the one, ah, eight times."
"Ozzy hasn't called her," I supply, and Riley shoots more daggers at me.
Disaster averted, my love life slinks into the background as we all focus on Riley, her sex-a-thon with Ozzy, and her stalkeresque fantasies about having his children. By the time the guys come home, the food is cooked, and we're all most assuredly drunk or well on our way. We're all ready for some in-meal entertainment between Riley and Ozzy. The second he walks in the door, everyone's eyes zero in on him in the most painfully obvious way that I almost feel bad for him.
Avery promised not to say anything to her brother, but her natural compulsion is to meddle, and she looks like she wants to explode. I swear I can hear the silent words she's throwing at her stepbrother.You utter moron! You don't bang a woman eight times and then not call her. Especially when she's one of my friends, and especially if she lies through her teeth and says she only wanted it to be a one-time thing.
I sympathize with Ozzy because I am pretty sure, at the time, Riley believed she wanted a fun fling until she realized she didn't. But I'm also pretty sure that Ozzy Decker looks at my friend like she's a mixture between a cupcake he wants to eat and the Stanley Cup he wants to win. If I had to put money on it, I'd say he wants more than a fling too.
Chase spots me right away and smiles. He makes his way over to me like Ryan and Luke gravitate toward their wives. He leans down and kisses me on the lips before squeezing into the chair I'm sitting in and rearranging me so my legs are in his lap. I'm surprised at his effortless comfort level, but I suppose the best way to get used to me is to actually touch me, even in casual ways.
"You've been drinking wine," Chase grins, licking his lips. I lean forward to kiss him and return the favour.
"You've been drinking Gatorade," I say back, then pause for effect and chew my bottom lip. "Grape, I think."
"Enough of that," Luke chides and waves a hand in our general direction. "Let's eat. I'm starving and can't wait to try my beautiful wife's first-ever self-made Thanksgiving feast.
I bite my lip and smirk at Holly and Avery, who glance at me imploringly. I keep my mouth shut and smile to myself. It's not for me to steal their thunder, though I suspect Holly and Avery will need to learn how to cook a bird before the next holiday rolls around.
We all sit at the table, which is actually a combination of Holly's and Avery's table from across the hall, brought together to accommodate eleven people. Like everything Holly and Avery do, they went furniture shopping together and bought the same one, so they fit perfectly.
Chase pulls out my chair, and as he pushes me in, he bends to whisper in my ear, "You cooked the entire dinner, didn't you?"
"Why would you say a silly thing like that?"
"I saw the pleading, don't-out-us looks those two gave you."
"I didn't do everything," I mutter so only he can hear. "Holly mashed the potatoes, and Avery set the table." Chase laughs.
I glance at the table setting and notice some last-minute alterations made by Avery. She's made place cards for everyone using fancy napkins and a Sharpie. Subtle. Not surprisingly, Riley is wedged between the Decker men at the head of the table; Ozzy to her left and Ollie to her right. All the other couples are appropriately seated side-by-side.
Within seconds of sitting down, everyone digs in. Wine is poured, and Luke grabs the carving knife. He offers it to Holly first.
"Would you like to do the honours?" he asks like a good husband who obviously didn't cook this meal and just showed up when the hard work was done. Men generally have an outstanding talent for disappearing when food needs to be cooked and reappearing when it's ready to eat. Unless a barbecue is involved.
"No way," Holly shakes her head. "I'd butcher it and probably take my finger off in the process."
Luke leans down and kisses Holly, a little too long for the dinner table. "Then I'll do it and save your poor, clever fingers. I like them too much to see one go."
"Barf," I say before putting my favourite finger on display for my brother. "Stop kissing your wife and cut the damn bird already." Because my brother is annoying as fuck, he stops to kiss Holly again. So I take the opportunity to piss him off. "If you don't feed me in the next sixty seconds, I'll find another use for my mouth with Chase."
Luke's head snaps up, and he glares. I smile sweetly back at him. Chase chokes on his wine, and Luke sharpens the knife while looking pointedly at the man I plan on officially making my lover tonight.
Finally, food meets plates, and we all dig in. Sighs of pleasure fill the room, and I can't help but grin in satisfaction. I love watching people enjoy the food I've cooked. There's something utterly satisfying about watching people moan and groan over the fruits of my labour.
"This is fantastic! It tastes just like Mom's, but somehow better," Luke says in amazement while taking another forkful of stuffing. Holly giggles awkwardly and shoots me another look.
The next hour is spent chatting, eating, and laughing. The conversation alternates between hockey, potential charity events Holly and Avery have brewing, and what's happening in Hollywood with the movie Tyra is filming.
"So when's the wedding," Ollie joins the conversation out of the blue, shovelling a spoonful of mashed potatoes and gravy into his maw. Everyone stares at him in silence. Who the hell is he talking to?
"Um, I don't know if you missed it, but Holly and Luke got hitched last month, bro," Ozzy says. Ollie looks up and around the table, one blue and one brown eye sparkling with mischief, until he stops on Taylor and Tyra.
"I saw several TikTok posts from celebrity gossip creators that you two lovebirds are secretly engaged." He waves his fork between them and winks. Taylor blushes, and Tyra smiles placatingly. I know for a fact Taylor has been having a hard time with the press. She's not a fan of the paparazzi.
"Yes," Tyra deadpans, making everyone choke for about two seconds before she continues. "Taylor is also carrying our baby. I'm the first gay woman to knock up my girlfriend naturally through osmosis, but the National Enquirer also suspects that Drake could be the father."
Everyone laughs. These guys should know better. As hockey players in Canada's hottest hockey market, they get as much gossip printed about them as real celebrities do.
