The Bromance Book Club - Lyssa Kay Adams Page 0,58
He turned the screen around, and Gavin found himself staring at a collage of images of himself, some shirtless and sweaty from various workouts at spring training last year.
“Someone loves you,” Mack said.
“If it’s not my wife, I don’t care.”
Mack aww’d. “That’s adorable. He’s blushing.”
“Are you guys seriously looking yourselves up on Pinterest?” The waitress busted them with a tray of food.
“We were looking for outfit ideas for our friend here. He’s fashionably challenged.”
She smiled at Gavin. Like, smiled smiled. “He seems fine to me,” she said, setting his food in front of him. Gavin scratched his beard to show off his wedding ring.
Mack snorted. “Subtle.”
“OK, back to Gavin’s date,” Del said. “We left off on where to take her to dinner.”
“Let me do some searching.” Mack said. He typed and talked at the same time. “Best . . . Nashville . . . restaurants . . . to get . . . you . . . laid.”
“Man, fuck off.”
Mack barked out a laugh. “Holy shit. There’s actually a list like that.”
Gavin grabbed the phone. “Really?”
“Things might be looking up, Gav Man. No more five-knuckle shuffle for you.”
Gavin shoved the phone back at Mack. It didn’t matter. He wasn’t out to get laid tomorrow. He’d settle for making her laugh again and maybe a slightly longer good-night kiss.
“Gavin, listen,” Del said. “Ultimately, whatever happens tomorrow night will depend on how you handle things, so don’t spend so much time planning out the perfect date that you forget the most important thing.”
“What’s that?”
“Talking. Getting her to open up to you. You’re moving into the next phase of our plan.”
Mack laughed. “Aw, yeah. This is where it gets good.”
“Oh, Christ.” Gavin scrubbed a hand down his face. “What?”
“Son,” Malcolm asked, as if he weren’t only a year older than Gavin, “what do you know about the G-spot?”
Gavin sputtered and coughed.
“Listen,” Malcolm said. “Your wife doesn’t want you to say I love you, but that doesn’t mean you can’t express it.”
Yan nodded. “You just can’t use those exact words. They’re not part of her language anymore. Hell, maybe they never were.”
“You have to tell her you love her in a way she wants,” Del said. “A way that makes her feel good and safe. A way that will break through her walls and her fears.”
“Wh-what does this have to do with the G-spot?”
Malcolm smiled broadly. “You’re going to find and stroke her emotional one.”
“Every woman has one,” Del said. “A place somewhere deep inside her that only the right man can reach.”
Del’s voice trembled. He paused to press his hand to his mouth. Mack patted him on the shoulder. “It’s cool, man. Let it out.”
“We all have a void,” Del said a moment later. “Something that’s missing in us. Something we need but don’t want to admit or don’t even know we’re missing until we find it in that other person. If you want to fix this thing with Thea, figure out what she’s missing inside. Stroke that broken part of her until it doesn’t hurt anymore. That’s how to say I love you to Thea.”
“That’s really all it is, Gavin,” Malcolm said. “Your wife has a void. A hole. Find it and fill it.”
Malcolm’s words were greeted with an uncomfortable silence, like the kind when a middle school teacher accidentally says the word erect in front of twenty twelve-year-old boys. Everyone wants to laugh, but no one is brave enough to do it first.
Mack finally came through. “Gavin hasn’t filled Thea’s hole in a while.”
“Someday I’m going to hurt you when no one is looking.”
Del grunted in frustration. “Look, it’s great that she agreed to a date. That’s progress. But don’t go into it thinking it’s going to be easy. She’s going to be skittish. She might even try to pick a fight with you tomorrow night.”
Yan nodded. “Don’t forget that she’s in full resistance mode. You just have to keep calm, keep cool, and be patient.”
Calm. Cool. Patient. He could do that.
Mack shoved the phone in his pocket. “And I swear, you’ll never notice me tomorrow night.”
“Now,” Del said. “Let’s talk about the book. How far are you?”
“About halfway.”
“Perfect,” Malcolm said.
“Why is that perfect?”
“Because,” Mack said, “shit’s about to get real.”
Courting the Countess
The one redeemable quality to the entire farcical evening, if there could be one at all, was that Irena would finally get to look upon her husband’s face and utter the words every woman longed to say to a man who had for too long been convinced