Total pages in book: 37
Estimated words: 34442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 34442 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 172(@200wpm)___ 138(@250wpm)___ 115(@300wpm)
“You know, it’s good that I called, even with your mocking. You sound like you could use a little emotional support. What’s troubling you, Kline? Tell Dr. Thatch all about it.”
“I really can’t stand you sometimes.”
“That’s cold, brother. Ice Ice Baby.”
“Thatch, come on.”
He sniffled, the rat bastard, selling his sob story for all it was worth. “Sorry, bro. It’s gonna take my heart a minute to recover from the stab wound. I’m not that hot cardiothoracic surgeon Teddy Altman, okay? I just have to emotionally mend and hope that it stops the hemorrhage.”
I swear to God, I spent ninety percent of my conversations with him not even knowing what the fuck he was talking about. It was his gift, though—talking you in circles until you were so fucking dizzy, you fell right into his trap.
He sighed heavily, and I scrubbed a frustrated hand down my face before metering my voice like I was talking to a kid.
“Okay, T. I’m going to need you to do me a favor and let me know why you’re calling, please.”
I could hear the smile in his voice, and I knew he was taking great pleasure in driving me to the point of surrender so quickly. I didn’t care. Just as long as I got this over with so I could get home and surprise my wife.
“I was just missing you. I feel like it’s been forever since we bro-ed it up.”
“You just saw me Monday.” We had literally had lunch together. Not exactly by my choice, but I had been enjoying a quiet lunch by myself in my office and the big bastard had just shown up, taken off his goddamn shoes, stretched out on my leather sofa, and eaten half of my fucking sandwich. Regardless, we did, in fact, spend the hour in each other’s company.
“I did?” He feigned short-term amnesia. “Well, I think that just proves you’re not spending enough time with your best friend, K. Obviously, we need to rectify that stat,” he said, pausing for a moment and then acting like some random not-premeditated-at-all idea popped into his big-ass head. “Oh, wait a sec! I know exactly what we should do to strengthen our brotherly bond.”
“And what’s that, T?” I questioned. My voice was so monotone, it could have been used as a sleep aid for insomniacs.
“Meet me at the Raines Law Room after work tomorrow night for some drinks and bro-time. Pretty sure they’re having some kind of fun shindig. Should be a good time and the perfect bandage to heal our breach.”
And there it was, friends. The whole reason for him calling. Door number three—tits.
He wanted to motorboat, and he needed a co-captain to get him there.
You’d think the fact that I was married now would take me out of the running for wingman, but sadly, it had only made me more of a commodity in his eyes. Something about using me to garner attention and then hoarding it all for himself really seemed to hit his pleasure nail into the headboard.
“I wasn’t born fucking yesterday, you bastard.” I called him out. “You and I both know every Thursday night is ladies’ night at the Law Room.”
“No shit?” He acted surprised. “Are you having some sort of postmarital cold feet?”
“What? No. What the fuck are you talking about?”
“Relax, bro. Don’t get defensive. Just surprising that you’re keeping tabs on when ladies’ night is at the watering hole is all. I won’t tell Georgia girl or anything. I’m locked up tight like a vault. Dedicated to the bro-code.”
“Fuck off, Thatch. I’m not keeping tabs on what night has the best odds for tripping with my dick out and landing in a pussy. I’m married. If I play my cards right, the odds are always going to be higher at home. Shit just doesn’t change often, and Raines Law Room is no different.”
“Okay, okay. I get it. You don’t have to get so worked up, Klinehole. It’s not good for your blood pressure.”
“You’re not good for my blood pressure.”
“Ouch, dude. That one stung.”
I took a deep breath and let my head fall back on my shoulders. Maybe that was a little too far, considering he was my best friend, but he just knew the exact buttons to push to drive me to my limit.
“Look, I’m sorry. That was a little harsh, but you need to stop trying to foist this off on me. You know you came into this conversation with this plan from the beginning.”
“No hard feelings, K. You can make it up to me by coming with me tomorrow night to mend our fence. I know you’re married, but I’m sure the two of us can still make it fun, right?” he said, his voice downright jovial now that he’d cornered me where he wanted me.
Unfortunately for him, my Thursday night was already spoken for in a way he couldn’t easily subvert. “Sorry to burst your bubble, but I won’t be in town tomorrow night. So, I won’t be able to aid and abet in your troll for pussy.”