Page 75 of Highball Rush
“Just maybe don’t leave your truck running in the middle of the street so you can jump out and kiss her,” Jonah said.
“I stand by that,” Jameson said. “Best decision of my life.”
I was actually proud of Jame for that one. I gave him a chin tip.
“Just be honest,” Devlin said. “If you have feelings for her, tell her.”
“Maybe it’s too soon,” I said. “And it ain’t like she lives here permanently.”
“Jesus, Gibs, tell her,” Jameson said. “Trust me on this one. I didn’t speak up when I should have and I almost lost Leah Mae because of it.”
We all went silent and I stared at the floor for a long moment. The way they put it, it didn’t seem all that complicated. It wasn’t like I was thinking about marrying her. Yet. Maybe this was just how real relationships happened.
The silence went on long enough to get awkward. I cleared my throat again. “Get back to work, lazy-asses. I don’t want to be here all day.”
Devlin took his beer back to the spot he’d been painting, and Jonah started climbing one of the ladders. Bowie shook his head at me with a little grin on his face. Kinda made me want to punch him—but not too hard.
Jameson patted my shoulder. “She likes you too, Gibs. I’d bet my poker money on it.”
“Thanks. Now shut your pie hole about it.”
He slapped me on the back, then went back to work.
“Hey guys,” George said from the doorway. He came in dressed in an old t-shirt and torn jeans. “Sorry I’m late.”
“What the hell happened to you?”
George looked a little rough. His hair was a mess, his beard hadn’t been trimmed in a while, and he had dark circles under his eyes.
“It’s June,” he said. “She’s killing me.”
“Killing you how?” Bowie asked.
“I don’t know what’s gotten into her,” George said. “She’s insatiable lately. I’m talking multiple times a day, like meals and snacks, only sex. She woke me up in the middle of the night last night and… well, I won’t go into detail, but suffice it to say, it was pretty great. But I’m exhausted. I haven’t had a full night’s sleep in a week.”
“Slow your roll, George,” Bowie said, wincing. “Hearing about June is like hearing about our sister.”
“You better get some rest tonight,” Jonah called down. “We have an eight-miler tomorrow.”
“Ah, shit,” George said. He grabbed a paint roller. “What’s new with you guys?”
“Gibson has feelings,” Jameson said.
Everyone laughed, including George.
“Go ahead, shitheads, laugh all you want,” I said. “Next Cock Spurs game, y’all are gonna have to get your drunk asses on the bus to get home by yourself.”
We all got back to work and a couple of hours later, we’d finished. Place didn’t look half bad with some new paint.
Just as we were done cleaning up, the girls arrived, fresh from their spa day. Each of them, including June, darted for their significant others, jumping into their arms. Callie looked a little shy as she walked toward me, her tongue darting to the notch in her lip.
“Hey, you.” I slipped my hands around her waist and drew her close. “Have a good time?”
“Yeah, it was nice.”
I leaned in to kiss her—just a taste. But then kissed her again because it felt so damn good.
“I like it when you do that,” she whispered, brushing her nose against mine.
