Page 110 of It's Always Sonny

My family is all here in the pavilion, and half of them are watching and snickering. With a shake of my head, I stand and watch as Ash makes golden puff paint waffles on my coat that somehow also look like chiseled abs.

PJ jumps up and, with a lighter color, draws a cube of butter on top of the waffle. And then three more.

Ash snickers, runs around the table, grabs my side to “steady herself” and starts writing.

Certified.

“You’ve finally seen my tummy waffles,” I tell her. “Satisfied?”

“Not until I get a glimpse of the real thing, and you know it.”

“Come on, Sonny,” PJ says, “give the people what they want.”

“My family doesn’t want to see this.”

“We’re not your family,” Ash says.

“I’m not showing you my abs.”

“Because you’ve let yourself go?”

“You are shameless.”

“I like what I like, and I like hot dudes’ abs, all right?”

“I’m hot, am I?”

“You’ve been on the cover of GQ twice. The entire world thinks you’re hot,” Ash says. “Stop looking for compliments and show me those tummy waffles!”

I unzip my coat and carefully set it down without disturbing the paint. Then I extend my right arm across my body and grab the bottom of my sweatshirt, and Ash’s mouth and eyes open comically wide.

“It’s finally about to happen!” Ash fans herself.

I pull the sweatshirt up a few inches, watching the excitement on her face turn to glee. I shoot a quick look at PJ, who’s staring with Ash’s same intensity, except she’s also biting her lip like she did earlier.

Stick a fork in me, I’m done. PJ biting her lip is my new favorite look. I lift it another fraction of an inch and take in the sight of PJ looking like she’s trying not to bite her knuckle.

And then I stop.

“Psych.”

A primal scream issues from Ash. “Why would you do this to me?”

Parker Jane, on the other hand, crosses her arms and bites the inside of her cheek.

“Ah, to heck with it,” she says. She grabs a cup of hot cocoa and throws it at my sweatshirt. I jump back as steaming liquid seeps through my sweatshirt, undershirt, and all the way to my chest.

The room erupts in laughter and applause, because naturally, my whole family has watched the display and finds the idea of me stripping in public hilarious.

“Better take that thing off,” PJ says. “You know how dangerous wet clothes are in cold temperatures. Wouldn’t want you to get hypothermia.”

I smile and shake my head, knowing that I’ll do anything for this absurdly feisty woman.

“If you take a picture of this, Ash, I will make it my mission to destroy you.”

Ash rises slowly and swipes an X across her heart, smearing a blob of puff paint over her own coat.

I put both hands across my body, grab the bottom of my hoodie pull it carefully over my head … to reveal an only slightly less cocoa-stained long-sleeved thermal shirt.

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