Page 57 of Vipers & Roses

“I’m not pissed off that you two know each other. I don’t understand why you didn’t tell me.” Addressing Blake, “I specifically asked you if you knew Cormac Bernardi, and you said no.”

“Thorn, why did you lie?” Cormac mocks. They’re taking the piss, and I’m their victim.

“I’m not laughing,” I bark at him before Blake can answer. “And Thorn? Thorn?”

“I’m Thorn,” Blake states. It’s my surname—well, Thornton, to be precise.”

“But you had Blake in your contacts,” I argue with Cormac.

Cormac frowns as Blake grins, highly entertained by the drama he is half responsible for. “Have you been scrolling through my contacts, Rae?” Cormac asks in a mock, accusing way.

“No, I saw his name flash up one time. And don’t you start accusing me of dishonesty when…hello,” point my finger at them, “you neglected to mention that you knew Blake. And why did you change his name in your contacts to Thorn?”

“We’ll answer your questions over beer and pizza. Alright?” Blake says smoothly as he takes the seat opposite, and the 6 ft 4 in swimmer pulls out the chair next to me.

“Now, just calm down, Rae,” Cormac adds unhelpfully.

“Don’t tell me to calm down,” I bellow, pulling the grab on my can of beer. The froth belches out of the drink hole and spills onto the table.

“Bro, number one rule with women,” Blake lectures Cormac, “do not tell them to calm down because, as stated here,” points his can of beer at me. “they don’t like it, no they don’t. One might say, volcanic.”

“Women are hard to read, Thorn,” Cormac replies as if I’m not in the room with them. Someone should write a book for men about women and use sports analogies or something so we can understand it.”

“There are books, YouTube, and TED talks,” I educate him, although I can’t think of a title right now. “How do you two know each other?”

Blake sips his beer and swallows before answering, “Childhood neighbors. Cormac’s folks sometimes took me in when my mom forgot to come home or brought some sleazy guy from the bar.”

“Jeezus, Blake, I didn’t know that. I’m sorry.”

“Yeah, well, my mom had good days and bad, but mostly good.” He leans forward and pats Cormac on the shoulder. “This guy was only knee high to a grasshopper, barely out of the crib, when his ma started feeding me and letting me hang out at their place. Good folks are never too far away. Remember that, Rae, good folks are never too far away.” He signals for me to eat my slice of pizza. “Don’t let it get cold.”

I find myself in a dilemma on whether or not Cormac and his family know of the extracurricular activities that Blake gets up to. Let’s not forget who Cormac’s daddy is. But I could put Blake in the deep shit by mentioning his connection with Smiler, but then, would Cormac believe me. I don’t even know who Smiler is or what he looks like, although in my mind’s eye, he’s similar to Marlon Brando, who plays Don Vito Corleone in The Godfather.

“And why did you not tell me you knew each other?” I ask, chewing a bite of pizza and humming at the cheesy, salty flavor. “This is good.”

“Because we didn’t know if you’d be open to dating the both of us, so we thought we’d string you along for a while-” Cormac reads my angry face and stops speaking.

“String me along?” I hiss, and bits of food fly out of my mouth.

“Just for fun. Aphid goo and all,” Cormac finishes after I interrupt him.

Blake snorts in laughter. “Rest assured, Rae, we can be mighty tribal at times. So, I’m warning you, we don’t want you dating anyone else.”

“Don’t I have a choice in this matter?” I anger.

“Nope,” they answer together, and I’m instantly muddled by their overt stubbornness.

“We’ll see,” I hit back, showing that I’m more than capable of being just as pigheaded. “Is that why you changed his name in your contacts? Was it because you thought I’d know what you two were up to?” I ask Cormac.

“Yes. Anyway, what’s going on with you tonight?” Cormac asks, hitting me with that penetrating stare as if searching for my soul. We had a date, and you broke it off to shoot your,” he makes a gun-hand gesture, “Glock.” He’s annoyed, and I don’t blame him. After all, he’s the man who wiped aphid sludge off my face like a true gentleman, so he deserves an explanation. “What gives?”

I dither a few moments, scrounging together a story. “When I moved back to Torres Island, I had no intention of getting involved with anyone. I wanted to focus on my studies.” I’m not convincing them with my speech, but it gives me time to contrive a lie.

“You failed,” Blake smiles, biting into a slice of pizza.

“You pursued me. It wasn’t the other way around, I assure you,” I argue. “I’m perfectly happy alone.”

“You said yes,” Blake points out. “You said yes to my bro here, and you said yes to me. We’re men, and you’re an outstandingly beautiful woman, so of course, we’re gonna mark our territory like tom cats and chase after you.”

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