“It’s a good school, and it’s neither here nor there,” Tobias says, gesturing vaguely in the direction of the bathroom, like that somehow might indicate Connecticut. “I mean, why not? It’s a beautiful campus. My mother once taught a seminar there, and we stayed with her for a few days and had a blast.”
“That’s assuming we even stay friends through senior year, considering the long-distance thing and all that …” I trail off, and the twins exchange another glance before turning back to me.
“Have a little faith, Chuck,” Tobias says, forcing a smile and pushing his red hair off his forehead. The twins are dressed in matching navy suits with red ties. They look like they’re cosplaying—dressing up like a character from a movie, anime, book, video game, etc.—but I like it. I’m getting serious Ouran High School Host Club vibes again. “If Church says he has an idea, it’s a good one.”
I nod, and then move to step forward, but the twins hook their arms with mine, while Micah opens the bathroom door. Then they’re dragging me back and into it before closing it behind us and flicking the lock.
“What are you doing?” I whisper as they both drop down and put a hand on my hip, pushing me against the wall. They each put a hand under my skirt and yank my panties down to the floor. “My mother is out there …”
“So?” they ask, encouraging me to spread my legs slightly. And then they take turns leaning in and using their tongue in places I promise you, I have never had a tongue before. It feels so good that I end up biting down on my hand to keep quiet.
When we finally make our way out of there, the rest of the table is waiting with drinks and appetizers.
“We took the liberty of ordering for you, seeing as you were inevitably detained,” Church drawls, waving his hand dismissively. “Since I know Micah and Tobias are huge fans of escargot, I made sure to order them each a plate of their own for dinner.”
“You piece of shit,” Tobias growls, sitting down on his right side, Micah beside him. Ranger is next, then Spencer, me, Mom, and back to Church again. Just one big, happy family. “We’re allergic to escargot.”
“What’s escargot?” my mom asks cheerily, and I facepalm a little.
“Snails,” Spencer answers for me, giving me and the twins a narrow-eyed look.
“You’re allergic to snails?” I ask, lifting my head up and glancing over at the twins. They’re both buttering slices of bread in perfect unison which is pretty goddamn impressive.
“We are,” they say, but somehow I feel they’re full of shit.
“Nobody’s allergic to snails,” I retort, and they both shrug, grinning but not looking at me. All the better since I just had a double twin orgasm in the restroom. Hopefully nobody notices. Pretty sure everybody but Mom does, which at least is a small blessing in and of itself.
“We’re allergic to squid, too,” they say. “And octopus.”
“They just have unrefined palettes, and prefer to stick to hamburgers and fries,” Church supplies as Ranger casts me a sympathetic sort of look.
“Just ignore them,” he says, and then redirects the conversation with that dark voice of his. “So, Eloise, tell us more about your new boyfriend.” Ranger’s sapphire eyes slide to mine. “We were just discussing their second date—to the shooting range. Apparently Ian is one hell of a shot.” My eyes widen, and I glance back at Mom as she begins to wax poetic about our school’s asshole librarian. At the same time, I lift my purse to the table, intending to dig around in it for my lip balm. Instead, I end up accidentally spilling it onto my bread plate.
The floppy packer penis falls right out, right onto the pure white china at the same moment our waiter approaches to take our order, and the bus boy drops by with another pitcher of water for the table.
My eyes go wide, and Mom squeaks, cutting off midsentence to stare.
I very distinctly left that penis back in Connecticut. My eyes flick to the twins, who happen to be sharing identical grimaces.
“Charlotte Carson, masturbation is healthy and normal, but you don’t bring that sort of thing to a dinner reservation,” Mom whispers, and my entire body turns crimson. Spencer is trying his hardest not to laugh, while Ranger gapes at the offending member in all its floppy glory. It really does look like the real thing, doesn’t it?
“Mom, it’s a flaccid dick, I couldn’t … you know, with this if I wanted to,” I choke out as Ranger grabs the dick and tucks it inside his black suit jacket.
“So there’s where I left it,” he growls out, dark eyes flicking up to the waiter and the bus boy as if in challenge. “It’s my prosthetic, and I happened to misplace it.”
