Page 135 of The Penalty

“I can’t tell if you need to fuck some of the tension out or talk or both.”

He chuckles and lays his cheek against my chest. “I just need you.”

“You got me. What’s next?”

The elevator dings and we step off, Rhys holding my hand down the hallway. He opens the door and I’ve barely put my bagdown when he starts talking and doesn’t stop. Something about selling a company, not being the firstborn, his dad not preparing him for this, Owen making suicide jokes, family bonds, and three-inches of paperwork, which anyway you think of it doesn’t seem possible. How tiny is that font if the contract is only three inches? No wonder he’s frustrated, he probably can’t read that tiny writing.

Anyway, my baby is spiraling hard.

“You’re overthinking this.” I grab Rhys’ shoulders and shake him a little to make him stop.

“Overthinking it?”

“Yeah. It’s a real mood killer. You’d be a lot happier if you didn’t think so much.” I shrug. “Just let the world be your guy-stir.”

“I can’t begin to figure out what that means.”

“It means just chill. Let things happen as they will.” The ‘duh’ is implied. Obviously.

“What is a guy-stir?”

I love when he gets confused. There are so many terms he doesn’t know. It’s cute. His eyebrows pull together and make those little lines above his nose. So adorable.

“It’s one of those hot water things that, like, blows up. They’re in Yellowstone.”

“A geyser?”

“That’s what I said.”

“I promise it’s not. Also, that’s not what the saying is.”

“Sure it is. The world is your guy-stir. People say that.”

“Oh sweet summer child,” Rhys sighs.

“I told you I was born in the spring. Do you have a short-term memory problem? Take one too many pucks to the head?” The team doc should probably take note of this.

“The world is your oyster,is the saying.” He shakes his head. “And no, I do not have a memory issue.”

“Why would the world be an oyster? They don’t even have legs. Or fins or whatever.” I’m trying to picture them in my head. “Are those the ones that look like little vaginas when you cook them?”

Rhys narrows his eyes like he’s thinking about something. “Do you know that oysters can move? And no, those are mussels.”

“Oysters have muscles? Now you’re just being ridiculous.” I push him back to sit on the bed and climb into his lap. Straddling him to distract him with my sexiness.

He runs his hands up my chest, which tells me it’s working at least a little. “How would letting your world be a geyser be a good thing? It’s a hot spring that randomly explodes with boiling water and steam. That sounds like a horrible way to live.”

“Nah, it means don’t worry about the shit that happens later. Go be the amazing natural wonder of the world, and explode on assholes who put too much pressure on you. Stop stressing out your skull jello. You’ll be happier. Like me.”

He smiles and wraps his arms around my hips. “You do seem like a pretty happy guy.”

“I am because I don’t use my brain for things.” Wait. Is that what I meant? It doesn’t matter.

He chuckles this time and it gives me the hot fluffies again.

“Why do you call it skull jello?”

“You ever seen a brain? They jiggle like jello.” I hold my hands out and shake them like a bowl of jelly.

---