Page 105 of Unexpected Shot
I’m just about to play the boob card, when another idea hits me. “Do you ever want those cold showers to end?”
Beau might put on this cocky-guy persona, but at the end ofthe day, he’s a man with a penis, and I’m a woman in a towel, who’s slowly brushing her fingertips up his sternum. And that combination will never not work in the female’s favor.
“You know that answer.”
I rise up on my tiptoes, dropping my voice to a whisper for effect. “Then if you ever want to see what’s under this towel again, you’re going to turn up the hot water.”
I feel his heart start to beat faster and, because of where I’ve positioned myself, his dick coming alive.
“You play dirty, wife.”
I turn and give him a light kiss on the cheek. “I play to win, husband.”
With a groan that comes from deep in his throat, Beau turns on his heel and walks out of the bathroom, mumbling something about blue balls and insufferable women.
“That was too easy,” I say, stepping into the shower, and letting the suddenly hot water run over my body.
Me
I’m going to kill your brother.
Gabi
Glad to see nothing has changed after you exchanged “I dos.”
This isn’t a laughing matter. I can’t find anything in his fucking monstrosity of a house.
Have you, I don’t know, considered asking him?
I shouldn’t have to ask the homeowner where the coffee maker is.
Oh, he doesn’t drink coffee. He probably doesn’t have one.
Oh, now you’re going to tell me I’m living with a psychopath?
He’s not anti caffeine. He’s just more of an energy drink guy.
Great. I’m married to a bro who probably has definitive rankings of the best Monster flavors.
He prefers Red Bull.
Again, your sarcasm is not welcome.
Just trying to help you navigate these first few days of wedded bliss.
I’d be more blissful if I knew I had to bring my coffee maker over from my house.
Make him go get it. Least he can do.
Now you’re sounding like the Gabi I know and love.
If this is the kind of refereeing I have to do for the two of you, I’m more than happy.
Oh! I meant to ask you. Does your brother have a sourdough starter?
What? Why the hell would my brother have a sourdough starter?
I don’t know what else it could be. It was on the counter yesterday. It’s gone today. But I swear it was a mason jar with a rubber band around it and a label calling it “Betty.”
