Page 94 of Riding the High

Sarcasm isn’t becoming, Ginger, and it would be nice if you were on stage with your mother and I for my speech next week.

So cocky and sure of winning the primary. I sigh. I know if I don’t go, I’ll never hear the end of it. A pang of dread sits in my stomach like a rock.

I’ll be there.

WARDEN

Good. I’ll be in touch.

Just as I roll my eyes at his response, a new text comes in.

HUSBAND

I think pineapple is growing on me.

I smile at his new name in my phone. Even if it’s short-lived, it makes me happy to see it.

That so? Why?

HUSBAND

Read an article.

On pineapple?

I start laughing. What the hell is this man talking about?

HUSBAND

Apparently if you eat a lot of pineapple, it makes your cum taste really fucking good. I’m testing the theory. But I’m gonna have to rely on you for the study and conclusion.

I take another sip of water as I read his text, and suck it straight down my windpipe. I don’t respond as I attempt to calm my coughing fit. Another text comes through.

HUSBAND

Looking it up, aren’t you?

No, you made me choke.

HUSBAND

Title of your sex tape. And I love making you choke, Vixen.

I play along.

What do you expect? It’s huge.

HUSBAND

It is a good size, isn’t it?

I can practically see him patting himself on the back from here.

Stop making me think about such things when I’m out with your sister and the girls.

HUSBAND

Such things = my cock.

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