Page 42 of Reckless
“Leave it to you to get the world’s horniest dog.”
I laugh. “He’s not horny. Those are stress boners.”
“What the fuck is a stress boner?”
Scrubbing a hand over my jaw, I try to keep it together and not burst out laughing. Peter deserves my defense right now. “He just gets nervous, or excited, or overstimulated sometimes and it happens.”
Rhett’s shoulders shake silently as he crosses his arms and leans back against the wall. “Theo, all you did was describe the different emotions someone feels when they get a normal boner.”
“It’s different.” I look away, biting at the inside of my cheek to keep my grin under wraps. “Stop picking on Peter.”
“You even named him after a penis.”
“What? His full name is Peter Pan.”
“Peter is—” He waves me off. “You know what, never mind. The moral of the story is: keep your stress boners away from Winter.”
“Why?”
“Because she’s got her plate full enough with Vivi. She doesn’t need you making more work for her.”
“Does she have help?”
“Is that your way of asking if she’s single?”
“Jesus, Rhett. Give me a little credit.”
“Right.” He grins. “I keep forgetting you’re a monk now. But no, she doesn’t. She’s all on her own. And that woman is an island, so if you figure out a way to help her that isn’t with your dick, I’m all for it. Mow her lawn or something, yeah?”
I can’t help it. I waggle my eyebrows at Rhett.
“Good lord.” His eyes roll.
“What? You just handed me an alley-oop. Only a loser wouldn’t take that joke and run.”
His head is shaking, but he’s all smiles. I know he feels guilty about my injury and he’s here playing mentor-on-steroids just to make up for it.
“So...who’s the dad?” I press further.
Rhett’s eyes narrow. “Why?”
“I just want to know what I’m getting into when I mow her lawn. Like if I see a dude lurking around, should I worry?”
Rhett scoffs. “Beats me, man. Like I said, she’s an island. That baby girl is nine months old, and no one has a clue who the dad is. She hasn’t told a soul. Says she was drunk and doesn’t remember.”
And just like that, all my jokes turn to stone and land heavy in my gut.
I really need to look at a calendar.
* * *
I managed to keep a smile on my face around Rhett while he and Summer finished helping me move in. But even they noticed it was forced.
When Rhett asked me if I was sore, I said, “Yeah.” But it wasn’t my broken collarbone or bruised body. It was the tight knot constricting my stomach.
I haven’t moved off this spot on my couch since they left. First thing I did was pull up the calendar on my phone. Peter is curled up smack dab in the middle of my lap, where he likes to be, snoring like he weighs a lot more than ten pounds.
Don’t go too hard on her. She’s so tired. She’s just doing her best. She needs all the support she can get, whether or not she wants it.
