Love and Neckties - Lacey Black Page 0,18
shuts and Harper is left on the stage with a big white box and a magician who’s about to make her fiancé vanish. “Harper, sweetheart, you’re going to do the honors. Are you ready? We’re going to count to three and with each number, I want you to knock on the box lid. Can you do that?”
She nods, her eyes wide with excitement and even a little fear as she gets ready to make the man she loves disappear. “Are you ready?” he asks.
“One,” everyone counts, while Harper knocks on the lid.
“Two.”
“Three!”
When she knocks the third time, David rips open the lid to reveal the empty box in the middle of the stage. The crowd goes wild as they spin the box, showing no holes, no trick doors. My stomach knots as I think about Latham disappearing from the stage. Everyone else seems to be happy he’s gone, clapping along and cheering for the magician. I’ll admit, it’s a cool trick, but at the same time, there’s a logical explanation as to where he went.
No one just disappears.
“Thank you so much, Harper. You can take your seat and we’ll move on with the show,” David says, turning and walking away.
“Uh, but what about Latham?” she asks, a nervousness filling her laugh.
“Oh, you mean the big guy you thought you’d be marrying tomorrow?”
“Yeah. Him.”
“He’s in the box,” David says with a shrug.
“What box?”
David Copperfield points to the big white box that’s still in the middle of the stage. “That box.”
Harper runs over to it, pulls on the lid and reveals a smiling Latham. She throws her arms around his neck and kisses him hard, in front of God and an auditorium full of half-drunks. David claps, helps Latham back out of the box, and points to the stairs at the end of the stage. “Thank you so much, Latham and Harper. Have a wonderful wedding tomorrow,” he says before moving on with the rest of his show.
“That was amazing. I can’t believe he made Latham disappear,” Freedom boasts.
“He didn’t make him disappear. It was an illusion,” I insist, finally taking a few pieces of popcorn.
“Well, he definitely was not in the box the first time he opened it,” she maintains, reaching down and grabbing a handful of my snack. Our hands touch, that familiar electricity coursing through my blood at Mach speed. It’s recognizable, and a total nuisance at the same time. I’ve dealt with it for longer than I’d like to admit.
The show proceeds, Freedom talking off and on throughout. I make a conscious effort not to let our hands touch in the popcorn because it feels like a tsunami in my stomach every time they do. When something big happens on stage, she leans forward, her eyes wide with excitement, as she watches the reveal. Then, she hits me on the arm and explains what just happened, as if I didn’t see it with my own eyes. Truthfully, I missed a few of them because I was so wrapped up in watching her excitement play out.
When the show is finally over, all I can think about is getting back to my hotel room, ordering some room service, and maybe a cold shower. It has to be cold because if it were any other temperature, I’d be tempted to picture a certain brunette on her knees, lips wrapped around my cock, and bangle bracelets jangling in rhythm with my hip thrusts.
And that isn’t going to happen…
There’s no room for those images, I think as I discreetly adjust my rapidly growing erection behind my trousers’ zipper.
“Come on, Sammy, we’re headed to get something to eat.” Freedom says, leaving me in a precarious state.
“I’m not hungry,” I reply, just as my stomach decides to betray me, letting out a loud growl.
“Right,” Harper sings. “We’re going to a club down the street. The concierge recommended it. It’s got specialty burgers and steaks.”
“Come on, brother. Let’s go have a big, juicy steak,” Jensen says, slapping me on the back and pushing me up the aisle.
“I’m not eating steak,” Freedom adds. As if we don’t already know she doesn’t eat meat. She reminds us every time we have a cookout.
I lag behind our group as we fight our way out of the auditorium. Maybe they’ll proceed to their dinner destination without me. Not that I don’t want to join my family for a meal, but I’m still feeling a little off from the flight and I’m not sure I’d be good company. Plus, the constant