Just Good Friends (Cheap Thrills #5) - Mary B. Moore Page 0,17
explode. That’s probably why I remember it.”
There was silence, but then Raoul asked, “How much urine can the average bladder hold?”
Seeing as how I’d almost peed my pants during my biology teacher’s show and tell, this was another thing I remembered him saying. “About sixteen ounces.”
“I once went twenty-six hours without peeing,” Tabby announced proudly. “It was while I was moving here, and I didn’t trust any of the rest stops. I don’t need some dude sticking his dick through a glory hole while I’m trying to pee.” Unfortunately, everyone had stopped working just as she said this, so they all heard her. Looking around the room with her eyebrows raised, she asked, “What?”
“Are we getting cake and creamed potatoes or not?” Rose suddenly snapped, throwing her arms in the air.
“I call them mashed potatoes, but sure,” Tabby shrugged, pointing toward the door.
Following slowly behind them, I winced when I felt a slight sluggish feeling starting to take over my body. The painkillers were kicking in, which meant I was either going to start talking like a dickhead, eating everything in sight, or both of those things if I was unlucky.
And I was headed to the store where I’d be surrounded by people and food.
Fucking hell!
Standing back, Rose tapped her fingernail on the counter as we both looked down at our bowls. “What about if we added salsa on top of it?”
“Pfffbt, amateur,” I scoffed, heading back to the fridge. “Salsa’s too harsh for that. It’ll clash with the cake and icing. You want something more gentle, like guacamole.”
Her eyes dropped to the huge tub in my hand that we’d picked up from the sweet family who made fresh Mexican produce in town.
Their salsa was so spicy it melted your tastebuds, but lord, it was amazing. And their tortillas were soft and didn’t get stuck in your throat like a lot of the shop-bought ones did back home. Their spices were also like nothing I’d ever tasted. And don’t even get me started on their hard taco shells.
Basically, everything they did was heaven.
I’d bought all of it on the way home, but the guacamole was the thing of food cravings dreams. Smooth but chunky, huge amounts of fresh cilantro, chunks of tomato, fresh jalapenos, and tons of lime. But what made it even better was their family secret—tomatillos that’d been soaked in lime, diced, and added into it. I don’t know how, but it just made it freaking fantastic. Maybe that was normal? Hell if I knew, I could never make it right no matter what I tried.
Nodding her head crazily, Rose gestured at me to hurry up. The others had finished what they were doing and were watching us with disgusted looks on their faces.
Well, most of them did. The others had covered their mouths with their hands, so we couldn’t see their exact expressions.
“Oh, get the chili tortilla chips that we picked up,” Rose snapped her fingers. “We’ll crush some on top.”
The others groaned, but I thought it over, eventually shaking my head and getting a sigh of relief out of them all.
“Negative on that one, chick. You see,” I launched into munchy cuisine professor mode, “that would be like adding the salsa. We have delicate flavors in these bowls. The soft sweetness of the sheet cake, the fluffy, almost meringue-like texture of the sweet Happy Birthday icing, the buttery heaven of the mashed potatoes, and now the slight chili heat of the guacamole—”
Garrett frowned as he looked down at the tub the guacamole was in. “I don’t think that’s the milder—”
“To add the chili tortilla chips on top would break up the lightness,” I continued, still totally focused on the gourmet cuisine.
Nodding slowly, Rose chewed her lower lip while she listened. “Okay, so what do you suggest.”
I would’ve crossed my arms over my chest, but my back and arm were starting to hurt again. Something which Garrett had noticed a couple of minutes ago and made me take another dose of the medication.
“Its simplicity will astound you,” I warned her. “Plain salted chips.”
There were some gagging noises from the others, but Rose clapped her hands together excitedly. “You’re a genius.”
So that’s what we did. We crushed some on top and then stuck a spoon in and got a big scoop out of the bowl.
The first mouthful was always the one that was the worry. Had you got the ratio right? Were the flavors complementary? Would you puke? Did it need some pepper?