Page 81 of Ellie Hayes and the Himbos
I grip his shaft and smile; not a small manat all. “Anything in particular you’d like?”
“You know best,” he says, sucking the words in between gritted teeth.
“You may be right about that.” I use my free hand to nudge him onto his back. Keeping him firmly in hand, I straddle his legs, leaning in to kiss him fiercely. I nip at his lower lip. “Let’s find out together.”
29
“HELLO, MY STRONG FRIENDS!”Diego announces, smile broad and brilliant as he addresses the camera mounted above the screen Grant set up for us. “Tonight, we have an additional challenge! You remember Ellie, who has been such a help on these livestreams. This time, we’ll be working without her input. At least, not her words, because she can’t speak!”
I wave, smiling behind the piece of gaffer’s tape over my mouth. It seemed better than the bandanna Ian offered, which was a little too close to gag territory for comfort.
Mark’s idea of “see no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil” is as rooted in improv as I’d feared. Three of us will be working without one of our senses, as Diego takes on the role of host and commentator. I’m the designated “speak no,” with Alistair, in a pair of noise-canceling headphones, as the activity’s “hear no.”
I peer around Alistair to check on Ian, who’s donned a sleep mask to round out our hamstrung trio as “see no.” Tonight’s recipe called for an air fryer, one of the few kitchen devices I have yet to procure, but, as Diego pointed out during planning, one Iandoeshave. A few texts later, not only had Ian offered to let us use said air fryer, but had said that we were welcome to stream from his kitchen, and would it be okay with Diego if he participated? I could swoon.
Diego frowns at the screen, lips moving slightly as he reads a comment. “No, Suica99, I don’t equate this with the silencing of a strong female. And”—he squints to read on—“I don’t think she feels this way? Ellie!” He wheels toward me, the portrait of worry. “You aren’t suppressing your voice or compromising yourself in concession to the patriarchy, are you?”
I roll my eyes.No.
“Well, that’s good. I would never want Ellie to do that. No one should, with any woman in their life! Next, we have Alistair, who a lot of you remember because you’re saying that you’re sad that he is wearing pants. Sometimes, people need pants.”
I nudge Alistair, who frowns at me before realizing he’s been introduced. “Oh, hey, hi, Diego fans!” he shouts.
In his own headphones at the command center he’s erected in Ian’s living room, Grant flinches. In another installment ofEllie’s Massive Oversights, I learned today that he’s pretty damn tech-savvy, having shot, edited, and produced Diego’s more involved posts. He scans the area around him, grabbing a lump of grip chalk from the coffee table, and chucks it at Alistair.
Alistair bats it out of the air in time to avoid getting beaned. “Dude!”
Grant points to the earpieces of his headphones, then makes a thumbs-down gesture.Quiet down, you asshole,he mouths.
Alistair wrinkles his nose. “Dick,” he grumbles, but it’s at a normal volume. He elbows me. “I’ve got an audiobook on. Have you tried them? Theyrule.”
Naturally, I’m dying to know more, but Diego gets back in front of the camera. “You might be wondering about the last member of our party. It’s the great Ian Hammond! Ian, please introduce yourself.”
Ian raises the mask to his forehead, giving the camera a wave with his free hand. “Hi, everyone. As Diego said, I’m Ian Hammond. If you’ve been lifting for a while and follow the sport, you might remember me from—really?” He interrupts himself as my favorite photo,The Roar, takes over half the screen. Grant brays a laugh from his corner. The chat erupts in fire emojis.
Diego winks at the camera. “I guess sometimes peopledon’tneed pants.”
Ian shakes his head. The image disappears. “Now, I own and operate Firehouse Fitness in Austin, where I have the privilege of working with Diego. He’s an excellent coach and a talented presenter, as you know, and if you don’t mind my saying so here, Diego, I’m really proud of you.”
My heart squeezes. I look at Diego on the screen, and he’s trying to hold back a smile, fully retreating into humility mode.
“You’ve come a long way from the college freshman who just wanted to improve his bench press.” Ian points to the camera, then gestures to the Built Box spread in front of us. “You’ve earned this. I hope you know that.”
Diego opens his mouth to reply, then closes it. He clears his throat, and after a few seconds, nods, standing straight, his chin high. “Thank you, Ian. That’s good to hear.”
Ian nods, and my heart soars as I watch Diego take another couple of breaths to collect himself. I smile behind my tape. Andto think that this moment of unfiltered masculine affection is being shared with an audience of dudebros.
Alistair pokes my arm. “Are we starting?”
Diego laughs, giving himself a little shake, and Ian pulls the blindfold back over his eyes. “Friends, that was really cool for me. Okay! Onward with our cooking!”
He explains the session’s questionable approach to executing buffalo ranch chicken chalupas. “Will they be successful?” he asks his audience. “Will there be danger? We don’t know! But we’ll find out together!”
He remains smiling in the corner of the frame as the three of us… wait.
I really should have vetted this idea.
“Is anything happening?” Ian asks.
