Page 57 of Snow, Ice, and Spice
I think back to before today, before I fucked things up between Maya and me by acting like a jealous dickhead.
“Things are fine,” I say curtly.
Ingrid chuckles. “Oh, I bet. Let me know how it goes when you check on the guest house, okay?”
I tell her I will, she thanks me, and we hang up. I grab my coat from the closet, throw on my boots, and head to the guest house. When I open the front door and flip on the lights, my eyes are wide. Holy shit, this place is…I don’t even have the words.
My cousin’s spacious loft guest house looks like it was the staging area for a male strip club act. There’s a giant penis poster tacked on the far wall with a half dozen smaller, bookmark-sized penises taped around it haphazardly. Like they were playing some ‘pin the penis on the penis’ game. Penis-shaped balloons crowd the space. Some are clustered along the ceiling while others dot the floor. And there are vibrators everywhere. On the coffee table, the kitchen counter, and the couch. I make my way up the stairs and see more of the same in the loft bedroom: a bunch of half-deflated penis balloons and dildos strewn about like confetti.
When I see what’s on the bed, my mouth falls open: there’s a giant male blow-up doll decked out in plaid boxers and an oversized black t-shirt with the words, “A hard man is good to find” on the front.
I press my eyes shut and shake my head. I could have gone the rest of my life without knowing what an absolute freak my cousin is.
I huff out a breath, then I make myself check all the faucets and lights in the place. I text Ingrid the good news.
Me: Everything in the guest house is all good
Ingrid: Yay! Thanks so much!
Ingrid: And if you’re looking to blame someone for all the sex toys and penis stuff, blame Maya lol. She hosted the bachelorette party with me. It was her idea to make it sex toy-themed
Ingrid sends a trio of laughing emojis. I roll my eyes and head back to the house. When I go to open the door, it’s locked. I exhale sharply and dig into my coat pocket for the key, shivering as the frigid winter air whips around me, turning the sweat coating my skin to ice.
But I can’t find the key in any of my pockets. And that’s when I realize: I never grabbed the key to Ingrid’s house. My brain was such a muddled mess from thinking about Maya and my fuck-up from earlier to tonight that I forgot to grab it.
“Fuck!” I boom out at the darkness around me. For a few seconds, I just stand there, in utter disbelief that I just locked myself out of the house. I let the momentary anger at my stupid mistake roll off my back before I try and think of what to do. I could call Maya and ask her to come back to the house and unlock the door with her keys…
That would most definitely lead to an argument. Or at the very least a talking-to about what a dumbass I am for forgetting my key. I’m not in the mood to be told off by her right now. But I’m not exactly in a situation where I can avoid it.
I let out a sigh and type out a quick text to Maya.
Hey. Locked myself out of the house. Currently in the guest house. Could you text me when you get home and just leave the back door unlocked for me? Thx.
Shivering, I walk back to the guest house and plop on the couch, annoyed at myself for how I fucked up two things in one night.
I yank off my coat, the now-dry film of sweat pulling across my skin. On top of feeling like a dumbass, I also feel disgusting.
I fall back against the couch and let out a groan. My head lolls to the side and the bathroom comes into view. I’ve got nothing else to do. May as well shower.
When I finish, I flip off the water, grab the white fluffy towel hanging on the nearby rack, and dry off. I wrap the towel around my waist and let out a satisfied sigh. Well, that’s one good thing to come out of this disaster evening. At least I’m clean.
I go to get dressed and freeze when I realize the only clothes I have are soaked in sweat. No way I’m putting them back on. I groan at my impressive lack of forethought when it hits me: I could wear the clothes on the blow-up doll.
I hurry upstairs, yank that godawful shirt off the blow-up doll along with the boxers, and throw them on. Beggars can’t be choosers.
I’m halfway down the stairs when I hear the front door to the guest house swing open and see Maya standing in the doorway, an annoyed frown on her face. She slams the door shut and glares at me.
Even though she looks like she wants to murder me right now, I’m relieved. She’s not with Xander anymore.
“Hey,” I say, shocked. “You didn’t have to come out here. I said just to unlock the door at the h—”
“I forgot my keys,” she booms out.
“What?”
Her lips purse as she looks at me expectantly. “I forgot my keys to the house,” she snaps.
Five seconds of tense silence pass. “Oh. Uh…well…that sucks,” I finally say. I run a hand through my damp hair.
