Page 69 of Bourbon Truths
It hit me like a fucking sucker punch to the liver. The people in my life were important to me, and even though I was living a different kind of life than they were, that didn’t mean I had to be a dick to them. They weren’t the ones who’d fucked up. They were just the unfortunate souls who had to deal with my moody ass.
Contemplating what Blane said, I walked down the hall toward my space. Jett and Goldie stepped out of one of the rooms.
“Hey,” I said as they spotted me.
“Where you off to?” Jett asked. Goldie stood next to him, avoiding eye contact with me, and acting defiant. I wouldn’t expect anything less from her.
“Can I talk to you two in my room?”
“Trying to cash in on that threesome now?” Goldie asked sarcastically.
Grinding my teeth together so I didn’t make a smartass remark, I led us to my room, which was still destroyed from my drunken tirade.
“I see you’ve tidied up,” Goldie said, kicking some of my clothes aside.
I pulled the mattress from the floor and haphazardly placed it on the frame, then kicked it into place. It would do. I pointed to my bed and said, “Sit.”
Jett was calm and cool, but Goldie was ready to start shooting shit from her mouth. I could see it in her eyes. She was gearing up for a fight. Her hands were sharpened and her claws were ready to strike.
“I want to apologize.”
“About time,” Goldie huffed. “You know, Kace, you can’t go around acting like an ass whenever you want just because of something that happened to you years ago. It’s bullshit. Hell, I lost my parents to Hurricane Katrina, and you don’t see me walking around with my dick shriveled up between my legs.”
Jett placed his hand on her thigh. “Goldie, let him talk, and please, don’t ever refer to yourself as having a dick. The visual is too much.”
“Is it because you know my dick would be bigger than yours?” Goldie asked, deadpan.
“Even though I would like to hear how you figure you would have a bigger dick than me, I think we need to shelve that conversation and listen to Kace.”
“It’s because I take my fish oil vitamins and you refuse to,” Goldie responded, not caring to acknowledge what Jett had suggested.
“Yes, I’ve heard fish oil produces giant dicks,” Jett said with sarcasm as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “Can we proceed?”
“Say it. Say I have a bigger dick than you.”
“For fuck’s sake,” Jett said, exasperated. I smiled inwardly from the struggle. “You have a bigger dick, Goldie. Happy?”
“I am,” she said with a bright smile. She then turned to me, crossed her legs, and gestured for me to proceed.
“You sure you don’t want to talk about dick size anymore?” I asked.
“Just get the fuck on with it,” Jett replied, frustrated as hell. Jett was a dominant man in every facet of his life, and to have such a strong-willed and stubborn woman at his side was comical for me to watch.
A small smile made its way over my lips from seeing my best friend be topped by his girl.
As I gathered my thoughts, they waited patiently for me to speak. I grabbed the back of my neck and looked at them, trying to find the words I wanted to say. Would it always be this hard to convey my emotions?
Most likely.
Taking a deep breath, I said, “I’m sorry for always being a jerk to you, Goldie. You have to understand, there was something I did in my past—”
“The steroids? I don’t believe it,” Goldie interrupted me. “Jett’s actually been—”
“Goldie,” Jett said sternly, shutting her up.
“Jett’s been doing what?” I looked at my guilty best friend. Neither of them spoke. Jett avoided eye contact while Goldie bit her bottom lip, knowing full well she’d let the cat out of the bag.
“What have you been doing?” I asked Jett.
