Sure enough, he sits forward, elbows resting on his knees, grinning like serial killer. “I volunteer to go next. Lost it to Rooster’s girlfriend at her parents’ lake house.”
I roll my eyes.
Rav and Stash fall over laughing.
“Ex-girlfriend, shithead.” I throw my empty, crumpled can at him and it bounces off the side of his head, landing on the ground.
“She talked about Rooster the entire fucking time.” Jiggy adopts a high-pitched whiny tone that’s remarkably similar to the voice of the girl in question. “‘Rooster tongues my clit this way. Rooster makes me come in five seconds. Rooster’s dick is three-feet long.’ You wanna talk about a boner-killer for a young, desperate lad?”
Shelby snorts, sitting forward and spitting soda everywhere. “Serves you right,” she coughs out.
That pulls a chuckle from me. I pat her back and hand her a paper towel.
“I didn’t do it on purpose,” Jigsaw whines.
“Bullshit,” I mutter.
“What happened?” Teller lobs a marshmallow at Jigsaw. “You tripped and your dick fell into her by accident?”
“Not quite.”
A few of the ol’ ladies squirm and shift their gazes away from the group. Don’t blame ’em. I’m not exactly loving this ‘game’ myself. “Can we move on to another topic?”
“No, no, no.” Stash wags his finger at me. “We’re missing some vital pieces of information. This is a serious violation of bro code. How’d Jigsaw ever earn his patch? You voted him in to the club after that?”
Laughing, I reach over to smack the back of Stash’s head. “What fucking bro code? This pre-dates the club. She and I had already broken up weeks before this went down.” I glance over at Jigsaw, who’s still grinning like an idiot. “I was thrilled he finally lost it so he’d shut the fuck up about it.”
“See?” Jigsaw nods. “My bro always has my back.”
Ravage turns his trouble-making face Hope and Rock’s way. Can’t wait to see how this ends. Maybe with a knife in his gut.
“Prez?” Ravage presses his fists together in a demented prayer pose and focuses on Rock. “We’ve never heard your story.”
Rock’s death glare should melt Rav into a puddle of goo any second now.
After a second or two, he answers, “Seduced my babysitter.”
“Daaamn. Respect.” Ravage holds out his fist, which Rock ignores. “How old were you?”
Rock’s gaze settles across the fire on Teller “Old enough, apparently.” His stone-cold tone leaves no doubt he’s done contributing to the game.
Ravage doesn’t seem to be able to read his prez’s mood too well. His gaze lands on Hope next. “First Lady, care to share?”
Rock throws him a threatening scowl, but his wife is also game tonight. She laughs and rests her arm on his chest, not that she could hold him back if he decides to permanently shut Ravage up. “Afraid I’m another teenage cliché. Prom night. High school boyfriend.”
“How very all-American of you.” Ravage nods his approval.
Hope lifts one shoulder in a careless shrug. “Nothing to write home about.”
Lilly leans out of Z’s lap and turns toward Hope. “Let me guess—fast, awkward, and orgasm-less?”
“Pretty much.”
Jigsaw raises his hands toward the sky, sermon-style. “Except for Rooster’s girlfriend—”
“Ex-girlfriend, jackass,” I snarl.
“Yeah, yeah. His ex.” Jigsaw jerks his thumb in my direction, “Except for her, I’ve never left a woman hanging.”
“That you know of,” Charlotte adds.
“Yeah, I highly doubt you could tell the difference, bro,” Z says.
Ignoring the digs to his manhood, Jigsaw searches the group for his next victim. Ravage leans in and slaps his shoulder. “Skip Sparky. He’s still a virgin.”
“That’s not what your mom said,” Sparky retorts with a raised middle finger.
I choke on my own laughter.
Steer volunteers next. “Fifteen with the preacher’s daughter.”
“Nice.” Ravage tips his beer in Steer’s direction.
“Murphy, you’re awfully quiet over there,” Jigsaw sings out, ignoring the murder faces from half the group.
“Fuck off,” Murphy growls without lifting his head.
“His math tutor,” Teller answers in a bored tone.
“English!” Murphy corrects.
“Little Hammer?” Jigsaw calls out to Heidi. Brother just doesn’t know when to quit. Asking Heidi a question like that’s bound to get him knocked out by either Murphy or Teller.
Heidi doesn’t bother to sit up either. “Prom night cliché.”
Teller’s eyes widen, and he slowly turns his head. “I fuckin’ knew it, you little liar.”
“Get over it, big brother.” She flicks her wrist in his direction in a dismissive gesture.
When the rest of us stop laughing, Charlotte waves her hand in the air, catching Jigsaw’s eye. “Not to rain on your pervert parade, but you realize not everyone’s first time might have been