Page 50 of The Girlfriend Game
Twenty-Four
Kendall
“Are you bringing Zeke as your date to Mom and Dad’s anniversary party?”
I wrinkle my nose, turning to look at Kerry sitting next to me with her feet propped up on the pedicure chair.
We began our monthly girls’ spa day after her second was born, when alcoholic drinks weren’t an option while she was breastfeeding. It gives her much-needed “mommy time.” I happily obliged her with these decadent afternoons spent getting mani/pedis. Over the years, we’ve continued the tradition as often as we can.
I consider her question. Zeke and I have spent a considerable amount of time together these past few weeks, both in and out of bed, but I’m not sure we’re at the meet-the-family stage yet.
It’s been wonderful getting to know him apart from the in-office visits and the online interactions. And the pleasure he’s given me—like this morning on my kitchen counter, for example—has me pressing my thighs together. The memory has me curling my toes. The woman at my feet glances up curiously.
“Ticklish?”
I shrug sheepishly, hoping she doesn’t read on my face what I was just thinking about. Unfortunately, nothing gets by my twin.
“Wow, I mention his name and you get all hot and bothered. He must have some serious BDE to get you blushing like this.”
I furrow my brow, cocking my head to the side in question. “Huh? BDE?”
Kerry blows on her fingers, a newly painted coral color with bedazzled stick-ons covering a few of her nails.
“Big dick energy.” She announces this loudly with no concern over the two elderly women next to us, whose nail techs’ arms must be falling off by now with how hard they’ve worked on their nasty, callused feet.
Thankfully, the women don’t hear her, but the nail technician stifles a laugh as I shake my head in annoyance.
“Jesus, Kerry. Must you be so crass?”
She gives me a howling snort. “I’m just stating facts, honey. I’ve seen pictures online of Zeke in his gray sweatpants. Whether you indulge me in the details of your sexual escapades or not, there’s evidence he is packing and isn’t shy about it.”
I slap a palm over my forehead, dropping my chin in embarrassment. “Eww. Just stop. Please do not Google information about my boyfriend anymore. Or ogle him. It’s just gross.”
Once again, she gapes at me as if I’ve affronted her with my request. But then her face lights up and I know exactly what she’s going to say.
“Boyfriend, huh?” She wiggles her fingers in front of her mouth.
“Forget I said that.”
“You know I wouldn’t have to resort to such stalkery if you’d at least give me some account of your sex life. I tell you everything about me and Brendan’s sex life.”
“I know,” I groan, making a face of disgust. “And I’ve told you before, I’m perfectly fine not knowing anything about it.”
She chuffs at my sisterly insult. It was fun and exciting when we were in our early twenties, and she shared everything with me because I lived vicariously through her. She was doing things I wasn’t at the time. Back then, my goal was getting my PhD, not getting the Big D, as she would say.
Kerry’s frowns in disappointment. “Well, I want to hear about yours. It’s not every day my sister dates a professional basketball player.”
My eyes fly wide, and I wave a hand in the air, aghast at her loud mouth. Zeke and I have kept our budding relationship on the downlow, avoiding the scrutiny and media attention focused our direction. We haven’t shown up together hand-in-hand or made any public appearances together to ensure our privacy.
Kerry slaps her hand over her mouth, muttering a garbled “sorry,” her eyes squinting with apology.
“Getting back to the anniversary party,” I say, redirecting our conversation so it doesn’t veer off to any more uncomfortable topics. “I haven’t asked him yet.”
“What?” she practically screeches. “Why the hell not?”
“I don’t know. I don’t think we’re there yet. The whole meet-the-parents thing.” I use air quotes and shrug noncommittally. “It feels oddly too weird. Adds too much pressure. And I know our mother and aunties. One of them, if not all, will open their big mouths at some point and ask when we’re going to get married and pop out some kids.”
Kerry stifles a laugh and flings her painted nails in the air. “Nonsense. It’s just a party. He’s just your date. It doesn’t mean you have to change your relationship status online toMarried.Yet.” She gives me a pointed look over the champagne glass in her hand. “Plus, I want to meet him. I’ve been very patient throughout this whole process. Need I remind you, if it wasn’t for me, you’d never be dating him in the first place.”
