Love and Lists (Chocoholics) (13 page)

“FUCK YOU!”

“I do not understand your request, but I could search the web for ‘fuck you.’”

“How about you search the web for why you’re such a cunt cake?”

“I don’t think you appreciate me anymore, Hot Lover Boy Big Penis Man Titty Tickler.”



“I’m sorry, Siri. I still love you.”

“Impossible.”

“PIPE THE FUCK DOWN AND TAKE A COMPLIMENT, YOU WHORE FACE BAG OF DICKS!”

Tyler tosses his cell in the center console and crosses his arms angrily in front of him.

“You seriously need a girlfriend. The relationship you have with Siri is disturbing,” I tell him as we pull into the hospital parking lot.

“She’s a bitch, but she’s the only woman who understands me. And anyway, do you know any single women who would call me Hot Lover Boy Big Penis Man Titty Tickler?” he questions.

“I don’t know any single women who could even just think that in their heads without throwing up in their mouths a little,” I reply as I find a parking spot.

“Exactly. So, anyway, I’m going to guess your mom never told your dad about the whole ‘shroom chocolate incident since I haven’t heard about any hits out on me.”



“You’re lucky my dad never found out. Your body would be buried in a ditch somewhere.”

“Aww, I think Carter would take it easy on me. That’s the best trip he’s ever had. You’re mom probably got laid in the hospital,” Tyler says with a frustrated groan. “I knew I should have stuck around longer. She probably would have thrown me a bone.”

“In what universe would my mother ever throw you a bone?”

“In Tylerverse. Where there are rivers of beer and naked chicks servicing me all over the land,” Tyler replies.

“I’m going upstairs to take a nap. I still don’t feel all that great,” my dad tells us as we walk into my parents’ house an hour later.

“I could make you a snack if you’d like. Maybe some delicious chocolates?” Tyler shouts to his retreating back as my dad makes his way up the stairs. I shoot him a dirty look as the front door opens behind us and my mother walks in carrying an armload of paperwork.

“How’s your father?” she asks, handing me the paperwork so I can set it on the foyer table.

“He’s okay. He just went upstairs to lie down.”

Tyler walks up next to me and winks at my mom.

“Hello, Claire. You’re looking beautiful as always,” Tyler says with a cocky smile.

My mom, who normally looks like she wants to chop off Tyler’s balls and feed them to the nearest shark tank, gets a sudden gleam in her eye. This is not good.

“Hey there, hot stuff. How about you come over here and show Mama a little sugar,” my mom says with a sultry purr to her voice that I’ve never heard before. It makes me wince and gag a little.

“Um, I don’t … what?” Tyler squeaks.

My mom saunters over to Tyler with a sway of her hips and stops right in front of him, letting her tongue skim her bottom lip.

I’m going to puke. I’m totally going to puke all over the floor right now. What the fuck is she doing?

Mom presses her palm against Tyler’s chest and leans in close until her lips are grazing his ear. “You’re heart is beating so fast, big boy. Want Mama to make it all better?”

Tyler’s face immediately turns ten shades of red, and his eyes are so wide I’m surprised they haven’t popped out of his head. His fantasy has come to life and he’s realizing it’s really a nightmare.

“What’s wrong, Tyler-pooh? I thought this is what you wanted?”

Tyler shakes his head back and forth frantically, looking over at me in a panic. As disgusting as this is to witness right now, I’m pretty sure Tyler is going to be scared straight when it comes to my mother and his sexual comments.

Mom drapes her arm around Tyler’s shoulder and smiles at him. “Don’t be afraid. I’ll be gentle with you. I’ll make sure to use the small strap-on.”

She runs her finger down Tyler’s cheek, and I’m pretty sure if I look close enough I’ll see that he’s wet himself. I’m suddenly cured of my nausea and totally on board with whatever warped plan Mom has brewing in her head right now.

“Um, I think there’s been a mistake,” Tyler stutters as he looks back and forth nervously between my mother and me. I just shrug at him and slide my hands in my pockets. He’s not getting any help from me. I’m actually kind of proud of Mom right now. She is one hundred percent committed to this performance and will do whatever it takes to make Tyler back off, including scarring him for life.

“Come on, baby. Mama wants you to take it like a good boy,” she coos.

“What?! No! That’s okay. I don’t need Mama to give me anything. Seriously, stop saying that!” Tyler says in a rush.

“Gavin, you should go and give us some time alone.”

“NO! DON’T YOU DARE LEAVE ME!” Tyler shouts, reaching his hands out to me.

Moving out of his reach, I walk toward the door with a laugh as my mom wraps both of her arms around Tyler and squeezes him tight. “Sorry, dude. This is something I definitely don’t want to see.”

As I open the door and step out onto the front porch, I’ve forgotten all about my disastrous evening with Charlotte, thanks to my mom. Maybe it’s time to scrap the list and just tell her how I feel.

I look back over my shoulder as the door closes behind me, and it’s like something out of a horror movie. Tyler is screaming and flailing his arms all around and my mom reaches around from behind him, smacks her hand over his mouth, and pulls him back away from the door right before it closes.

“It was a disaster, Rocco. A total disaster,” I complain with a sigh.

“I’m confused. How was it a disaster when you touched his penis?”

I glare at Rocco and signal the bartender for a refill of my Moscato. This is going to take a lot of booze.

“I think I’m going to need you to start at the beginning because I really don’t understand what the problem is. You’ve been following the list we made and things are moving along quite well, if I do say so myself,” Rocco replies, giving himself a pat on the back.

I’ve done something stupid. Something really, really stupid and now that it’s done, I can’t take it back. And no, I’m not talking about shoving my hand down Gavin’s pants last night. That wasn’t stupid, that was genius. Contrary to popular belief, I’ve never touched a penis before. Wait, that sounds bad. That sounds like everyone thinks I go around touching penises. No one thinks I’m a slut. At least I hope they don’t. But I’m pretty sure they think I gave up the goods to some idiot in high school that was in Gavin’s band. Let me set the record straight here–I didn’t. I just kind of sort of made people think that. And by people, I mean Gavin. I know, I know. I should be hanging my head in shame, but what the fuck was I supposed to do? Nothing else was working. I tried going out with a few guys, I tried kissing a few guys … nothing got a reaction out of him. And telling a teensy, tiny, little white lie about losing my virginity only made him go straight into the arms of that whore, Shelly Collins. He took her to prom! It should have been me, God dammit!

Shit, I’m getting off track here. I should probably do what Rocco says and start at the beginning. But the beginning was a really long time ago. I don’t even remember when I actually fell in love with Gavin. It feels like forever. The problem is that we grew up together and our parents are best friends. Our families have always done everything together, and I’m like a little sister to him. I’m sure he still looks at me and sees a girl in pigtails that used to suck her thumb. That is NOT a turn-on. Wait, actually I think it is. I’m pretty sure they have porn for that. And if I’m not mistaken, Rocco even put it on our list that I should dress up as a schoolgirl for Gavin. Fuck. I probably should have started with that instead of the easy stuff like making him jealous and forcing him to look at my cleavage.

So, let’s go back to the middle instead of the beginning. I met Rocco a few months ago at a sorority mixer, and he very quickly became one of my best friends. Obviously, he didn’t understand why I turned down every single guy who asked me out, so I had to come clean with him. I had to tell him that I’ve been in love with my best friend practically since birth. One night over Pink Poodle martinis, Rocco started to make a list on a scrap of paper from my purse of things I could do to get Gavin to notice me. One thing turned into twelve, and now here I am with a fake gay boyfriend, a few drunken kisses, and one sloppy hand job.

Gavin probably thinks I’m a drunken idiot. I’ve kissed him twice now after copious amounts of alcohol, and last night, I took the bull by the horns. Or the penis by the base.

“Rocco, I can’t rehash what happened last night. It’s too mortifying.”

Rocco puts his arm around my shoulder and pulls me close, giving me a squeeze. “I know, sweetie. But I haven’t gotten laid in months, and I need to live vicariously through you. Tell me everything.”

The bartender sets down another glass of wine in front of me, and I grab it, taking a huge gulp before beginning.

“So, you know that I went to Gavin’s place last night so he could get his mind off of his dad being in the hospital. And of course, since I had a few beers, I had the courage to actually ask him about that kiss last week,” I start. “As soon as I asked him, he got up from the couch and said he had to do something really important for work.”

“Let me stop you right there. What was Gavin wearing?” Rocco asks.

I scowl at him and smack his arm. “Cut it out. It’s bad enough that you drool over him every time you see him. What he was wearing doesn’t matter.”

To be honest, though, I really can’t blame Rocco for drooling over Gavin. He is definitely drool-worthy. Gavin is six feet tall and the hottest guy I’ve ever seen. I don’t even know when it happened—when he turned from annoying little boy to hot as fuck. It’s almost like he went to sleep one night as a little kid and woke up a man—a man with a great body and a gorgeous face with a dimple in each cheek that is to die for. He has short brown hair, chocolate brown eyes, and sometimes if I’m lucky, day old stubble that I want to lick.

Rocco shakes his head sadly at me. “It ALWAYS matters, Charlotte. I need to get the visual correct if I’m going to help you. Was his T-shirt molded to his well-defined chest? Did his jeans hug his scrumptious ass? Was he wearing that cologne that smells like a crisp fall day?”

Rubbing my fingers against my temples and closing my eyes, I ignore Rocco’s stupid questions. Why the hell did I think it would be a good idea to enlist my gay friend to help me out with this?

“If you want me to tell you what happened, shut up. This is serious. I touched a penis for fuck’s sake! I touched GAVIN’S penis! In all of our talks about this stupid list, we never discussed the specifics. Like how to give a proper hand job. It was probably the worst thing he’s ever experienced. How am I ever going to face him again?” I whine.

“Stop being so dramatic. It couldn’t have been that bad. If you touch the penis, the penis will be happy. I did have one guy, though, who would only touch my penis with his thumb and forefinger. Like he was trying to milk a cow. I’m not saying I have a ginormous penis or anything, but it’s definitely bigger than a cow’s teat. Tell me you didn’t milk his penis,” Rocco begs.