Page 131 of Bridesmaid By Chance
“Because the pants were too tight. You could see the outline of my briefs.”
She nods. “Panty lines are a real thing. But have no fear, I can check if you have a hole.”
“Everything okay down there?” Archie asks, stepping up to us.
Sloane waves him off. “Thinks he split his pants. I’m just going to check.”
Fuck, Sloane, don’t announce it!
“No…don’t check.”
But it’s too late. She has my leg in the air, examining between my legs as if I’m at my very own gynecological exam. What the hell is she doing? Has she forgotten where we are?
“Sloane, put my leg down.”
But she’s determined, because to my fucking surprise, instead of putting my leg down, her finger snakes between my legs and pokes me dead on in the balls.
“Motherfucker,” I yelp as I sit right up, shooting my leg down to the ground. But because of where she was positioned, examining me, my leg knocks her to the ground and lands across her back as her face buried into the ground and her ass sticks up.
“What the hell?” she mutters.
“Jesus Christ,” I say as I move my leg, and she sits up, a mud smear across her face and a murderous look in her eyes.
“You just ostriched me.”
“What?” I ask.
Archie now squats next to us, tears falling down his cheeks. “Uh, if you two don’t get it together, they’re going to revoke your membership.”
“You saw that, he just ostrich-ed me.” Sloane gestures toward me.
“I don’t even know what that is.”
“Mate…you most defiantly ostrich-ed her.”
Sheridan squats down too and says, “I saw the ostrich, and it most definitely was a deliberate attempt to collapse her.”
“See.” Sloane gestures toward the two on her side. “I think I have fertilizer in my mouth.”
Jesus.
“You do not.”
“I most certainly do.” She shakes her head. “All because you didn’t want me to beat you at croquet. The audacity.” She stands and adjusts her dress. “Way to ruin a perfectly delightful lawn game.”
“I wasn’t scared of you beating me,” I say as the courtyard starts to go back to what they were doing before this monstrosity of an occurrence. “I didn’t want you to hurt anyone. You had too big of a backswing.”
“I was going for two hoops, a double pointer. Of course I had a big backswing.”
I press my hand to my brow and say, “How about we don’t argue about it now, not in front of our gracious friends who recommended we join this club.”
“I’m grateful they are here, as witness to the ostrich-ing.”
“There was no ostrich-ing,” I whisper-shout.
“There was a little bit of ostrich-ing,” Archie says as he lends me a hand to help me up, but I don’t take it. Not because I’m irritated but because there is still a breeze down below.
Sheepishly, I look up at Archie and say, “Umm, so, I definitely ripped my pants.”
