In the Mix (36 page)

“Do you know what you do?” She matches my rapid breathing. “You give good tongue fuck, Kyle—good tongue fuck.”

I look up at her and bite back my smile. “I’m glad you’re happy with my services, ma’am.”

“Yes. You are the best alarm clock I’ve ever owned.” She wipes my sweaty bangs off my forehead.

“Oh, you own me now?” I laugh lightly.

“I’ve got the receipt around here somewhere.”

“You kept the receipt? Why, in case you want to return me?”

“Psh yeah! What if you break? Other than that, you’re a tax write-off.”

“First of all, if I break, it’ll be your fault what with how hard you ride my cock sometimes. Second of all, how am I a tax write-off?” I play along. I love the shit that comes out of her mouth. She never has to stop and think; it just flies right out as if she’s rehearsed it a million times.

“First of all, you’re the best riding cock I’ve ever had.” She winks. See how that shit just flies. Instead of riding crop—cock; amazing. “Second of all, you’re a tax write-off because you are medicine to my soul—healing me. Everyday my heart gets stronger, more trusting—freer. I love you, Kyle. I love you more than I ever thought it was possible to love someone.” She lightly plays with my hair, avoiding my eyes.

“Marry me.” Holy fuck—I just said that out loud, didn’t I? I am completely in awe at what she just said to me. I wasn’t expecting that at all. I think it clouded my judgment. Oh, I definitely want her to be my wife—don’t get me wrong. I’m just afraid that asking that simple, yet fully loaded, question may just be the thing that sets us back. The fact that I have all of this time to have these thoughts, because she’s not saying anything, pretty much confirms my fear. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have . . . let’s just get up and take our shower. We have to get the turkeys in the oven. Everybody’s going to be here in a few hours,” I ramble on.

“Yes.”

I take in a quick, shaky breath. “What?”

“Yes.” She palms my face. “Yes. I would love nothing more than to be your wife.” She leans in and kisses me. I pull back, feeling unsure of what just happened. That’s that insecurity rising again. “Kyle, I mean it.”

“I . . . um . . . holy shit, Ceese. Holy shit! You said yes!” I practically yell as I get up on my knees.

“I did,” she laughs.

I jump out of bed and pace with what I’m sure is the biggest, goofiest grin I have ever made. “Holy shit. Shit! Shit! Shit! I can’t believe it!! Wooo hooo!” I scream and do a double fist pump (get your mind out of the gutter!). CiCi lies back, watching me and laughing. “Who should we call? We should call our moms!” I rush to my phone.

“Wait—no!” She sits up quickly. “Hold on there, killer. Let’s just . . . can we just keep this to ourselves right now, please?”

“Why?” Yeah . . . I just snapped at her. Can you blame me?

“I want it to just be our little secret for right now. I want to keep it to ourselves. Not long, though, I promise.”

“No.”

“No?” She moves her legs to the side of the bed.

“No,” I confirm. “If we tell people, then it’s real, and that’s why you don’t want to say anything.”

“That’s not fair, Kyle,” she says with defeat in her voice.

“Given your history with me, I think it’s very fair.”

“So, basically, you trust in me—in
my
love
for
you—enough to ask me to marry you. But, you don’t trust in me enough to know that I mean what I say?”

“This has nothing to do with trust issues,” I retort.

“Uh, yeah . . . it actually does.” She gets up, her face red with frustration (or it could still be residual from the orgasm, who knows?) as she storms by me and into the bathroom.

I think I have just been involved in the shortest engagement ever.

Go ahead and congratulate me—I’ll wait.

“Ceese?” I call out as I follow her in. She’s already under the shower. Damn if that’s not the best silhouette I’ve ever seen. She ignores me. She might not have heard me under the showerhead but ignoring me seems more dramatically correct for this situation.
Okay, I really see why she calls me Mr. Spock now.

I open the door to the shower and walk in behind her. My hands slide down her sides and rest on her hips. I lay my forehead down on the top of her head and let the water pour over me, forming awkward streams on my face.

I don’t ever want to know what it feels like to lose her.

CiCi takes in a sharp, whimpering gasp before turning around and into my arms. We stand like this, holding each other, for several minutes—in silence. Sometimes the best thing to say is nothing at all. I think it’s very clear how we feel. Words would’ve ruined our moment.

The idea for hosting Thanksgiving came to us in an inebriated state. Yes, it would be awesome to have twenty-one people and four dogs here all day! Don’t you think so? We’ve been jokingly cringing over this but I know we’re both happy to have our family around. CiCi is kind of down that her other sisters and families won’t be able to make it. She’s been talking about them a lot lately. The drift between the girls really bothers her.

The sisters that
are
coming, besides Charley, are the GEGs. Sometimes I’m really in awe at how these five women can still be so close after all these years, especially with the way they talk to each other. But, it’s their own brand of crazy and it really wears well on them.

“It will be a miracle if today doesn’t end up a hot mess,” she says as she closes the oven and turns around, leaning up against it.

“I think it will be fine.” I cross the room to her.

“I think it will be
mostly
fine, however, we have a few that we’re not used to having around. Oh, and we have Julie’s mom—that ought to be a blast.” She rolls her eyes.

“Why do you say that?”

“If you looked up narcissism in the dictionary, you would find Cynthia’s face. Everything gets rolled back to her. It’s the biggest reason why she and Julie aren’t that close.” She takes in a deep breath. “Man, Kyle, we’re both really lucky we have the parents we do.”

“Oh, for sure!” I agree. “So what’s the scoop with Maddie bringing the Viking?”

“And his kid—don’t forget that! Not really sure. Hopefully, he meshes in well.”

Just then, the doorbell rings. Knowing that Mitch was dropping Charley off early this morning, CiCi goes to let her in. I take off to the media room and enjoy the calm before the storm . . . or at least till Ceese starts yelling for her cleaning captain.

It’s noon and just about everybody’s here. We’re waiting on Maddie and the Viking to arrive. Shit—I’ve got to stop calling him that. Fuck it. He’ll always be “The Viking.” I just can’t wait to see what this son of a bitch looks like!

“Oh. My. God! I’m going to choke her! Why do I subject myself to her?” Julie yells in a whisper, making sure her mother doesn’t hear her.

“Look, there are a lot of people for her to spread her sunshine to, don’t sweat it.”

“Easy for you to say; she avoids you like the plague.” She rolls her eyes and grabs a celery stick filled with cream cheese. “That’s the beauty of being a ‘bad influence’ on me.” She chomps into it.

“Yes, of course. Although, I think I’ve really let her down, I mean, why aren’t you a crack-whore yet? You’ve been around me long enough.” I open the oven to check on the turkey. Actually, I wanted to get hit with another strong blast of turkey smell.

“I know. You’re such a disappointment. I mean, I’m not even a proper alcoholic. Hey, is that a new apron?” She touches my arm to turn me.

“Yeah. Kyle’s mom gave it to me.” I look down at it with her.

“Don’t stop basting your turkey in my oven, ’til my buzzer goes off!” she reads aloud. “Kyle’s mom gave you that?” She laughs. “Oh, Imma like her for sure!”

“Aww, she’s great. I adore her.” I beam.

“Whom do you adore?” Winnie asks after sneaking up from behind me, placing her hands on my upper arms.

“Oh, were your ears ringing?” I tap her hand gently.

“They must’ve been. What can I do to help?” She stretches her neck around to see what’s what, I’m guessing.

“Nothing really. Shall we pass out your appetizers?”

“That may be a good idea; I think the natives are getting restless.” She puts her hand up by her mouth, like it’s a secret.

“What are you girls up to?” Mom asks as she heads in.

“We’re just waiting for the rest of the women to pile in here so we can all hold hands in a circle and sing “Kumbaya” until something miraculously pops up that needs to be done before dinner is ready,” Julie replies. She’s my smartass understudy and sometimes . . . I’m hers.

“Oh, I know all of the words! I could lead you all in like I did for my college choir. I was the main soloist.” Cynthia chimes from behind us. We all collectively roll our eyes before acknowledging her.

“It was a joke, Mom. We all want to help, but there’s nothing to do right now.” Julie rubs her temples. I feel for her. The problem is that Julie’s mom has been self-absorbed for as long as Julie can remember, so even the tiniest thing her mom says sets her off.

“C’mon, Cynthia, let’s go see if anyone’s made any clutter for us to clean up yet.” My mother puts her arm around her shoulder and guides her out. I don’t know why, but my mom has always had extra patience for Cynthia even after knowing what Cynthia has said about me. I think it’s my mother’s own personal way of saying “fuck you” to her but she will neither confirm nor deny that if asked.

“I’m pretty sure Kyle has more than a handle on the clutter situation,” Winnie says after my mom and Cynthia walk out.

“Yeah, what’s up with that?” Julie grabs another celery stick.

“Ha! People think
I’m
bad!” Winnie laughs.

“Oh, leave Mr. Belvedere alone.” I head over to the fridge. Do you know what excites me about this time of year besides the obvious? Egg nog. I fucking love me some egg nog! I will watch the amount of stuff I put in my mouth just so I can overindulge on this instead.

“Isn’t that your second glass?” Julie grabs a glass out of the cabinet and places it next to mine.

“You know you wouldn’t be getting any of my shit if it wasn’t Thanksgiving.” I grab her glass aggressively and pour her some.

“Yeah, yeah . . . shut your pie hole and fill ‘er up!”

“You know, when she says that to me, it’s got a completely different meaning.” Blake pipes up from behind us.

“Jesus! What is it with everyone sneaking up on us this morning?” I turn around, almost dropping my glass.

“Sorry, love,” he says before placing his hands on Julie’s hips. He leans down and plants a few kisses on the back of her neck. Julie belches—loudly.

“You are one sexy bitch,” I say in aww.

“Isn’t she? I’ve come to believe that she does this kind of stuff to deter me, but in all honesty, nothing turns me on more than to know she’s comfortable enough with me that she will belch like a trucker.” He grinds into her a little just to show her how much, I’m assuming. I watch as Julie closes her eyes and bites her lip. I wish she would just give in already. Blake is a great guy.

“I bet you two have hot-ass-sex.”

“I haven’t had her in the ass yet, but as soon as I do, I’ll let you know if it was hot.” Blake smiles. Can you tell he’s been around us for a while? Julie stomps on his foot. I’m sure that would have some oomph to it, but she’s barefoot.

“You should be nicer to him, Julie; he’s the only one that comes back for more.” I nudge her with my elbow.

“Shut-up, Ceese,” she says quickly and under her breath.

“What’s this, now?” Blake asks, confusion all over his face. Just then, Cynthia walks in and huffs dramatically when she looks at Blake and Julie.

“What is your problem now?” Julie snaps at her.

“I just don’t know what you are doing with your life.” Cynthia sighs.

“What do you mean by that?!”

“You don’t have a solid job and your boyfriend is going nowhere fast with you. He’s just with you for your money, you have to know that.” She pushes her hands out at nothing.

“Now you wait just a bloody second, you daft cow!” Blake yells.

Holy fuck.

“She has three solid jobs doing the things that she loves to do!” he continues.