French bread rolls to have with dinner. I truly found these sorts of little things that she did for me endearing. I had completely forgotten that Grandma loved her white French bread rolls with her fiery bowl of gumbo or jambalaya or chicken soup or beef stew—she had a running theme going—but Alys remembered, and she’d gotten enough for everyone to have Grandma’s little must-have.
Jogging to the back door, I opened it and told them “Hurry your asses up!”
“How was it last night?” asked Alys as she plopped the rolls onto the island countertop.
“Oh, no! I heard you spent the night with X again. You spill first!” I demanded, laughing.
Lili smirked wickedly. “She wouldn’t say anything, except—”
Alys lightly elbowed her in the ribs. “Shh!” she hissed. “Is Phil here?”
After a quickie against the counter, Phil had returned to the basement.
“Nope, they’re all down in the music room. So?” I prompted Alys.
Alys sighed. “Oral—on me, not him. Like, for hours, you guys. He was a fucking machine with it, too. It was fan-fucking-tastic! I think I came five or six times. I could hardly move by the end. I was all shaky and limp.”
“Damn!” barked Lili.
“No shit,” I said. “So, what did you do for him then?”
“He just took a hand job. After that, he held me all night. I woke up, and his arm was still around me. He was grabbing my boob though, so I don’t know if that could be considered romantic.”
“Who doesn’t like a bit of titty in the morning?” asked Lili, her face a mask of innocence.
Alys shrugged. “What about the date? Was it nice?”
“It was wonderful,” I replied, smiling at the memory of it.
I ended up telling them everything, except for the fiasco part. An odd twinge of guilt pinched at my chest, like I was lying to them, but not even Alys sensed my omission.
“Oh, good,” said Alys. “So, hot sex in the bathroom at the restaurant, eh?”
“It was so wrong yet so right.” I laughed.
While cracking up, the three of us were busted by Phil and X coming through the panel door.
Lili and I couldn’t help but notice how X just lit up when he saw his woman.
His face split into an adorable smile, and he strode up to Alys before wrapping his arms around her and sneaking in a nipple tweak. “Hey, babe!” He kissed her smiling mouth.
“Hey,” she said shyly in return.
Phil dropped a kiss on top of my head. “It smells fuckin’ awesome in here. When’s it ready?”
“About fifteen minutes. How’s Jason holding up?”
“He’s been passed out for the last hour. Sheri tucked him in and hasn’t come back down. I think she’s icing his face while he sleeps.”
That’s fucking love. How can she not know that? How can he not know that?
“He’s going to need some good food then,” I stated.
“What about you, Pygmy? Where’s your man?” Phil’s voice rumbled out of his chest, vibrating through my back.
She gave us a real cheeky smile. “He works late. I’ll probably head over to his place when he gets off.”
Little shit. She’s been pretty tight-lipped about her relationship.
“Is it serious?” I asked her, only to have her reply with a shrug.
I refused to push her for info. That was what she wanted, so she could continue to deny me.
Twenty minutes later, Phil sent Sheri a text to let her know that dinner was ready—because walking his ass upstairs was just asking too much—and she joined us some minutes later, a smile on her face that didn’t convince me.
“How is he?” I asked her.
“He’s sleeping. I think he wore himself out today,” she said, sounding tired.
“He’s still not speaking to you?”
She shrugged and took the bowl of gumbo I’d handed her, and she headed out back.
Since the afternoon had cleared out the clouds, the early evening turned into a beautiful sunset, and we decided to eat al fresco. Not long after we all tucked in, Sheri got a text from Jason—because it really was asking too much for him to walk his ass downstairs—stating that he was hungry.
With a sigh of resignation, Sheri put down her spoon and stood up.
“No worries, Sher-Bear,” said Flipper, waving for her to sit back down. “I’ll bring him some food. You’ve been bustin’ your ass for him, and he’s been a little bitch to you all day.”
“He doesn’t want to eat alone,” she told him, picking up her bowl and spoon.
“That’s all right,” said Phil, getting to his feet. “We’ll go eat with him. You females