by Sandra Marie
About ten minutes in, Rae stuck her arm in the air, blocking his view of the TV. “Massage train,” she reminded him. He groaned, pretending to be put out by the idea.
“I changed my mind.”
“Then I change the show.” She ninja swiped the remote. “Time for Lord of the Rings.”
“No.” He slid to the edge of the couch and settling his hands on her shoulders. “Don’t make me sit three hours. I give!”
She tilted her head back with evil laughter and tossed the remote up to him. “Get rubbing.”
He grumbled, playfully poking at her neck and shoulder blades until she yelled at him to do it right. Her muscles really were tight, probably from all the tattooing she did earlier. Rae was the more popular artist—and more talented, but he wouldn’t admit that out loud. A lot of their clients booked months out to get work from her.
He ran a thumb up her neck, eliciting a long moan, her head falling practically into her lap. Rae’s hair was so short he never had to worry about it getting in the way, but he did like the feel of it whenever his fingers scratched up the back of her head.
“It’s like a puppy,” he said, tickling her behind the ears.
“Mm…”
“No rebuttal?”
“Too relaxed.” She tilted her head to the side, showcasing the rose and serpent tattoo along her neck. “Less talk, more massage.”
He chuckled and obliged. Rae’s skin was like butter, smooth and soft, and he got a kick out of every time he heard her slurp up drool. It was good—keeping his hands busy like this. He rarely sat still for longer than an hour, and as they started episode two, his legs started to bounce, anxious to get up and do something.
“We should go skydiving,” he suggested for the millionth time. “You did promise me.” Rae just grunted, and he furrowed his brow and peeked at her lap. “Are you texting?”
“No.”
“You are.” He snapped for her phone, but her reflexes were faster. “On besties night. You know the rules.”
“I was just checking IMDB, I swear!” She giggle-giggle-snorted, holding her phone out of reach.
“Lies.” Tommy tackled, pushing her flat to the floor, straddling her hips while she stretched her arm out. Popcorn flew across the carpet, and he flattened against her back, his chest bumping her face into the floor. Her body wriggled underneath him, shaking with laughter while her voice got muffled by her blanket.
“Gerophme!”
“Who’re you talking to that’s more important than me, hmm?” His fingers tripped over hers, prying them one by one from the phone. She wasn’t using all her strength. Rae could take him down in two seconds flat if she wanted to. Maybe she was tired. Or she liked the wrestling. He sure did. What guy wouldn’t want a sexy girl underneath him?
“Ah… it’s our friend from this morning,” he said, finally getting a hold of her phone. He sat up, keeping her pinned while he scrolled through her conversation. Rae wriggled around to face him, crossing her arms across her chest and huffing, but a smile teased the corner of her mouth. Red splashed her face while she caught her breath.
“I was just making sure things were still on for Thursday, that’s all.”
“Looks like a whole lot more than that.” He turned the screen around briefly before eyeing the conversation again. His playfulness started to wane, something tight and uncomfortable grabbing hold of his gut. It wasn’t the first time one of them had been texting during their nights together, which was why the rule was put in place. Usually he was the rule breaker, and Rae would tackle him, steal his phone, take an unflattering picture of him, and send it to the person he was texting. Then the phone would stay tucked in her bra for the rest of the night.
Punishment was always the same. Tommy didn’t exactly have the chest to hide her phone in, so it would go in “time out” in his pants.
“Does Mr. Cover-up know you’re getting massaged by another guy while he’s texting you?”
“Like you could call the five minutes you gave my shoulders a massage.”
“See if I ever rub you again.” He flipped on the camera and brought up the screen. “Say cheese.”
Rae slapped her hands over her face, and he snapped a good shot. Instead of sending it to the attention stealer, he sent it to himself. The guy didn’t deserve such a cute picture of her.
As Tommy tucked the phone into his back pocket, he got to his feet and stretched his hand out to help her up. “You gonna be careful, right? With this guy.”
“Always.” She reached up, plucking a piece of popcorn from his hair. The faint smell of peaches filled the air. “Worried about me?”
“Always.” He scratched at his stomach, the anxious itch to get out of the apartment and out of this conversation taking over. “Let’s go do something stupid.”
She shook her head. “I’m staying in my jammies.”
“We can still do stupid things in our jammies.” He had to clear his head. There was a sick taste on the back of his tongue he couldn’t quite explain, and he hated it. Diving into a snow pile sounded like it would do the trick. Better than taking a shot of something strong, which would also do the trick, but set him back seven years.
Rae tilted her head, playing with the hem of her hot pink pajama top. He put on a smile, hoping to fool her.
She let out a long sigh, marched around him, and headed out to the deck. Her bare feet tip-toed to the corner, where she bent down out of sight. All he could see was her ass, which looked pretty darn adorable in those hot pink fuzzy pants.
He could think that about his best friend, right?
He rubbed his eyes with his thumb and forefinger. It was getting late; that was for sure. Maybe he should just head home. Clear his head in bed.
The swish sound of her patio door sliding shut filled the room, and he looked up just in time to see a small white ball soaring toward him. The snowball smacked his chest, shattering on impact. Chunks slid down his shirt and jolted his nerve-endings. A surprised gasp slipped through his teeth, and goosebumps erupted all over his body. Outside of his surprise, a distinct giggle-giggle-snort floated through the air, and a playful vengeance bubbled through his chest.
“You’ve got a five second head start,” he warned. “After that, all bets are off.”
Rae stepped into her parents’ house around three Thursday afternoon, fully expecting the smell of sugar and frosting that greeted her. It wasn’t Mom and Dad’s house unless there were cookies.
“Auntie Rae Rae!” screamed a tiny human from the couch. A pair of bright pink Poppy headphones hung over Nova’s ears, the glow of her tablet lighting up her five-year-old smile. Rae flourished her hand and took a deep bow, much to her niece’s delight and her sister’s chagrin. Little Miss Nova had proclaimed herself queen of the world, and Rae was all about encouraging that.
“Your Majesty,” Rae said, straightening. “Where’s Momma?”
“In the kitchen with Gramma and TomTom. They sneaking cookies!”
“You mean baking?”
Nova shook her head hard, her child eyes wide and her messed pigtails swaying. “I mean sneaking. TomTom was in time out corner.”
“Worth it!” Tommy’s deep muffled voice floated from the kitchen. She should’ve figured he’d be here, since her family practically adopted him. And where there were cookies, Tommy was not far away.
“Keep it down,” Rae’s dad gruffed from his designated spot on the couch, the TV set to PAW Patrol. “The pups are trying to cross this ice bridge.”
“Poppa, I’ve seen this one,” Nova said from her spot, casually tapping her tablet. “Everest saves them.”
“Shhh…” Dad waved at Nova, eyes glued on the TV. “Don’t be a spoil sport.”
Rae suppressed a grin and kissed the top of her dad’s bald head over the back of the couch, then wandered into the kitchen. She was here for her sister’s and mom’s expertise anyway.
Nerves prickled up and down her spine, but she shook them off and put on a smile. Sure,
Mom and Jen could totally know she was a little bit—a lot bit—freaking over her date that night, but Tommy could not know at all. No, no, no. It would only add fuel to his already burning fire of anti-Brian rhetoric.
She stepped under the archway that separated the family room and the dining room and sat at the bar that stood between the kitchen and dining area. Mom and Dad had remodeled their house a few years back, making the garage into the dining/kitchen room and the old kitchen into a huge family room for the elaborate parties they’re always hosting. The Taylors were hosts through and through, their loud personalities making them easy friends with anyone and everyone. And Rae, Jen, and their brothers, Luke and Chase all stayed nearby after moving out. Rae wasn’t the only sibling who wandered back to Mom and Dad’s place to sneak food at least once a week.
Tommy’s nose was pressed into the corner by the fridge—the designated time-out spot. He was tapping a tune against the wall and shaking his non-existent butt. Rae plucked up a bag full of pink frosting and a plate of plain sugar cookies and started decorating.
“Oh, make those cute bows like you do,” Mom said, sloppily stuffing another frosting bag. Pink and red stained the sides of her hands and wrists, while the colors only stained Jen’s tongue.
“I can do those, too,” Tommy said from the corner, pausing in his song.
“You’re there for a whole minute, mister,” Mom said in a stern voice. “You got at least ten more seconds.”
Tommy sighed. “One… two…”
“Let me guess…” Rae said over his counting. “He put boobs on the heart cookies, didn’t he?”
“And a phallus on the Cupids!”
“Those guys are naked,” Tommy said, his voice muffled from the corner. “I was going for anatomical accuracy.”
“You want another minute?” Mom threatened, spinning the top of the frosting bag closed. Frosting squeezed out from the flower tip and dribbled onto the counter. Jen quickly swiped a finger across it and licked it up.
“No, no. I’m sorry.” Tommy spun around, using his puppy eyes that always worked on Rae, as much as she hated to admit it. The guy was blessed with good looks, and he had humor to boot. Damn him. “I’ll be good.”
“You either fix those cookies or eat them.”
“You have to eat a phallus,” Rae lilted, pushing the naked cupid cookie his way.
“Phallus!” Nova said as she pranced into the kitchen. “Phallus, phallus, phallus.”
“We don’t say that, sweetheart,” Jen said, hoisting her daughter up onto the counter. Her headphones were still over her ears, but she was obviously more interested in what the adults were talking about.
“Auntie Rae Rae said it. And Gramma.”
“It’s called a penis,” Tommy said, and three cookies flew from Rae, Mom, and Jen, smacking him in the cheek, chest, and his wild blond hair. Mom pointed a frosting covered finger to the corner, and Tommy sulked his way back.
“Tommy said you have a date tonight,” Jen said, brushing back Nova’s bangs. The five-year-old snuck her tongue out at Tommy, looking pretty proud that she’d gotten him in trouble.
“That I do.” Rae put the finishing touch on the bow that Mom requested and started on another heart. She thought about drawing boobs as a joke, but she didn’t want to join Tommy over there. “I was hoping you or Mom had something I could wear? My clothes are all—”
Jen gave her a good once over. “Holey? Cheap? Ragged?”
“I was gonna go with not date appropriate, but thanks for all those wonderful descriptions.”
Rae put a fancy frosting rose in the middle of the heart cookie, then took a big bite and moaned. The sugar dissolved into giddiness on her tongue, and she danced a little in her seat.
“You’re welcome to raid my closet.” Mom nodded toward the staircase. “But all my stuff might be tight in the chest.”
“Thanks, Mom.”
“It will! You’ve got at least two cups on me.”
Jen nodded her agreement, her lips shut as she chewed on another cookie. So Rae was stacked. That didn’t mean she couldn’t squeeze these puppies into her mom or sister’s wardrobe.
“So I get to keep what I borrow?” Rae quipped, swiveling off the bar chair. “Since my giant bosom will stretch it out.”
Tommy sighed from time out. “This conversation is real fun for me.”
Rae snorted, then skipped her way out of the kitchen and up to her mom’s bedroom. Jen called, “Wait up!” and followed her up.
“Tell me about this guy.” Her sister flopped onto their parents’ bed, tucking a pillow under her chest. “He cute?”
“He’ll do.” Rae’s parents had his and hers closets, which couldn’t be more different. Dad kept his clothes in color and category order, while Mom’s closet was a jungle. Rae crossed her heart and dove in.
“What app was he on?” Jen continued with her twenty questions. It was a conversation they’d had all too often, and the more Rae had it, the less enthused she was about answering. Ten times out of ten the guy stayed around long enough to tell her he wasn’t interested after all, and she was on to another date with some other internet match-up.
Brian was a bit different, though, since they’d met in person. He’d been flirting with her, showing interest before she had. Hopefully he didn’t turn out to be a dick.
“He came in to get a tattoo,” Rae said, flipping through Mom’s clothes. There was a v-neck shirt she was specifically looking for—one that tied around the waist and made Rae look ten pounds lighter and eighty-percent hotter paired with the right jeans. She’d borrowed it from Mom last year when she went on that disastrous set up Frankie had done for her with one of her co-workers. The guy suggested they go to a gym for their next date. Yeah, she got the hint… and told him to shove it where the sun don’t shine.
But she’d looked killer that night.
“Wait, so you’ve seen him in person?”
“Don’t act like it’s such a shocker.” Rae laughed as a pile of dresses flumped her face.
“I’m sorry,” Jen said, sitting up. “I’m just… trying to remember the last time you had a date that wasn’t…”
Through the wardrobe mountain Rae was stuck in, she caught her sister chewing on her pointer fingernail, her ponytail loose and sending blonde strands into her face. Rae came from a family of blondes, which never seemed to fit her personality, which is why she was dyed dark red and cropped short.
“An online guy?” Rae finished for Jen when her sentence had disappeared into thin air. Jen nodded, and her eyes swung to the bedroom door, and her smile turned sarcastic. It was the Tommy smile—everyone got that smirk when he walked into a room. Rae didn’t have to see him to know he was there.
“Out of time out, huh?” Rae asked, plunging back into the dark recesses of Mom’s closet.
“I made a break for it. Don’t rat me out.”
“Mom!” Jen shouted. “Thomas is mffraooo—”
Rae peeked from between two sweaters at Tommy covering Jen’s mouth, his big eyes playful and pleading. Her heart giggled, and she let the sweaters swing back into place.
After a few minutes of Tommy and Jen bickering like they were biological siblings, Tommy swung his arm toward the closet. “How long does it take to pick a shirt?”
Rae and Jen shared a look. Men. “I need to find the one that makes my boobs pop.”
“More boob talk.”
“Yes. And I can’t find it.”
Jen’s brows pulled in. “You want the plum v-neck? The one with the tie in the back?”
“Yes! You know where it is?”
“Goodwill. Mom said you stretched it out.”
Rae deflated. She could’ve said something ten minutes ago. “Mom could’ve given it to me!”
Jen lifted a shoulder, and Rae huffed, frowning at her remaining choices. There was that pink sweater, she guessed. It was her favorite color. But she looked so… fluffy in it.
“Just go in that,” Tommy said, gesturing to�
�� Well, all of Rae. Was he talking about her sweat pants and holey tank top?
Who was she kidding? Of course he was.
“You really don’t want this date to go well, do you?”
He held his hands up. “On the contrary… I want you to have a blast. I just don’t think you will.”
“Thanks for your confidence.”
“I got a bad vibe from him.”
“Because he didn’t fall to his knees and bow to your artwork?”
“Yes.”
Rae shook her head, stifling a snort. “So sensitive.”
“You bet your ass, I am.”
Jen sighed. “Why the hell are you two not dating, again?”
Rae took one look at Tommy and forced a laugh. Heat rushed through her cheeks, and she focused on Mom’s closet. “Yeah, I really want a piece of that,” she lied. Man, did she want a piece of that. Hold his hand, hold his arms, hold his butt…
“It’s like watching a Julia Roberts movie.” Jen shook her head between the two of them. She pushed her knuckles into the mattress and slid to her feet. “I’ll see if Mom ever donated that box to Goodwill. You might get lucky; she might’ve never gotten around to it.”
“Go procrastination!”
Jen put her fist into the air and headed downstairs. Tommy leaned back on his elbows and tilted his head. “I still don’t see why you have to change.”
“No one goes on a first date in sweats, Thomas.”
“You look cute, though. He might be impressed.”
“Cleavage is more impressive.” Rae pulled out a deep scoop sweater, the pink a cute pop for the season. “Cover your eyes, please.”
Tommy fell back on the bed and slapped an arm over his face. Rae stripped off her tank and swapped it for the sweater. She faced the full-length mirror hanging on the far side of the room. Maybe with jeans it would look okay, but definitely not with her gray sweats.
“I like that one,” Tommy said from the bed as Rae pulled at the hem of her sweater. “It’s your favorite color.”