Page 8 of Devilish Debt
“Characters?”Dad confusedly grumbles.“¿Qué significa eso?”
“Tech speak for wanting a word,” I clarify and prepare to rise to my feet.
“Again,” the man of the house grunts.“What’s wrong withbasicEnglish?”
“Says the man who asked what it meant inSpanish,” my sister snipes back with a snarky smirk encouraging the group to snicker at their antics.
Hesitation to toss back the little that’s left in my glass and hastily dismiss myself from the table is non-existent.
Despite the unfortunate climate we’ve managed to find ourselves in over the past few months, he still means everything to me.
He always has.
He always will.
That’ll never change even as our friendship does.
From the first time he asked me for a Cheeze-It, Iknewin my soul that he belonged in my life.
To me.
With me.
Mygod,I can’t tell if I need more or less tequila to prevent myself from saying that shit out loud.
Once outside, I shut the door and good naturedly poke, “How’d you know where to find me?”
The slender yet fit younger male’s shoulders bounce prior to him hiding his hands in his pockets.“I always know where to find you.”
“Must be nice.”
“It is ‘til I realize you’re probably balls deep in someone who isn’t me.”
Surprise has my jaw cracking on its own volition.
Fuck, he says that shit like that’s not where Iwannabe.
Like it’s nothimI want gagging on my dick while someone else rides his.
On the record?
On the –will the prosecution please read back the court reporters notes record– Iwantwhat Ace, Bunny, and Woods have.
I wantusto have what they have.
I wantusto have someone we share.
Iknowwe’re both into menandwomenandthe notion of getting to have it all inonerelationship.
That shitwouldwork for us if I let it.
And it’smethat’s the problem.
I know that.
I don’t need a jury of twelve strangers to tell me that.
It’s just…complicated.
