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"Ask Giosuè if he’d even want to share his special day with us whack jobs." Santino nudges Marcello’s ribs. "I’d assume the answer is no."
Lazaro snorts in agreement. "Besides, three marriages on one day are way too many. It’ll be Italian wedding overload."
"No such thing." Giosuè doesn’t budge.
Jericho plops down beside Giosuè. "My Daddies want me to ask you to get married with us."
Xavier makes a face. "That sounds wrong. Reword that."
"They want to know if you’ll be in an eight way with us," Jericho clarifies. "An eight-way wedding. Get your mind out of the gutter."
Giosuè turns to Faro. "I’ve never been one to back down from an eight way."
"We’ll all pop each other’s eight-way cherries." Faro throws his arm around Giosuè's neck. "Weddingcherries. The rings we give each other will be the replacement for the whipped cream."
"Whipped cream?" I scrunch my brows.
"The whipped cream on the cherry sundae of our love, obviously." Marcello won’t let me sass his wedding partners in crime. "Get with the program."
I shoot a deadly look at Giosuè. "I’d never want a three-way wedding."
Giosuè takes my hand in his. "At the rate you’re going, you’d be lucky to get a first date, let alone a marriage proposal."
Wow. Just wow.
This freaking guy.
If Giosuè weren’t my childhood best friend, I’d head to Nonna’s kitchen, grab a tub of gelato, and dump it on his head. "Anyone would marry me."
"Except for Romeo." Santino really needs to keep his butt out of my business.
Faro nods. "Our Dad would never put up with your crazy ass."
O.M.G.
These bozos are really going to make me spill the tea.
"Romeo jerked me off this morning." I’m puffing my chest out and I don't care.
Giosuè rolls his eyes. "In your fantasies, he did."
I pull out the secret video camera I set up on Nonna’s back patio last week because I had a feeling I'd need evidence.Thank God for sixth senses."Watch and weep."
Everyone watches as Romeo beats me off.
I squirt like a busted fire hydrant, coming all over Romeo’s face.
It appears as if Romeo has a spontaneous combustion in his briefs, but I can’t confirm that.
All I know is that Romeo immediately beats himself off after I leave while ogling my pert cheeks swishing back and forth like a five-dollar crack whore in the hood.
"AI has come a long way." Faro doesn’t even bother to congratulate me.
"What’s that supposed to mean?" I wonder.
Ah, shit.
I’m trying not to snap as much these days.
