Glancing quickly at their chests, I tipped my head back again. I’m not sure what Ethan saw on my face at the image that popped into my brain hearing those words, but whatever it was I heard him laughing for a long time after I watched him walk away and hold onto the bar while his body shook as he laughed.
Looking back at the girls who were all holding up shot glasses, I shrugged and lifted the one in front of me.
“Here’s to GYMP,” Ebru called, and we all shot them back at the same time and slammed the glasses back down on the tabletop.
They kept calling someone a gimp, so excusing myself, I made my way toward the ladies bathrooms, and looked up what one was while I was doing my business. It would be fair to say that I struggled to look at any of them in the eye when I got back to them, knowing that one of them was into that sort of stuff. I also couldn’t figure out which one, and that was bugging me.
All of this was cured by more shots and cocktails, though, and then they came up with the ‘Get Yo’ Man Plan’ which was also called GYMP. How ironic was that. And this plan was a list of things that I needed to do to get Jarrod Kline.
With the alcohol beating through my body and ruling my brain, this seemed like the best idea in the world. However, also knowing that alcohol could cause memory blanks, we wrote the plan down on napkins so that I wouldn’t forget.
* * *
Eight hours later…
Apparently on my way home I’d taken a detour to the ocean and set sail on a raft. That ocean was currently being hit by a hurricane which was making it go up and down, up and down, up and… taking in a gulp of air, I did my best to stop the contents of my stomach making a bid for freedom, and then took another one.
Then the raft changed into a rollercoaster that was chugging up the tracks to three thousand feet above the ground, and then it just let rip with no warning and plummeted back down, taking a sharp right before we could hit the floor, a sharp left, going up and down…
And that’s when I jumped out of the taboggan looking rollercoaster car that I was sitting in, opened my eyes, recognized my home, and blindly stumbled to the nearest bathroom to wave goodbye to what I’d been trying to persuade to stay inside me. I had never, not once, been sick after a night out, and I never ever, not once, wanted to do it again. Every heave felt like I had a gorilla trying to break out my skull, while two anacondas blocked off my airway and a porcupine rolled around inside my stomach.
Seventy-four-thousand heaves later it was all over and I was left curled in a ball on the bathroom floor, trying to remember the last time I’d cleaned it and if anyone had come over and used it since. I knew my toilet habits so I was safe with the knowledge that if I was the only one who’d used it, the floor I was lying on was clean. Anyone else’s toilet habits, though, then I needed to go and boil myself in the shower with bleach.
Thankfully my memory – what little of it I had – pulled up a replay of me cleaning the place yesterday afternoon and the fact that no one else had used it since. I still needed to boil myself because it was a toilet so eww, but I didn’t need to use bleach so that was a relief.
Pulling myself up using the edge of the sink, I leaned my head on the countertop and aimed a weak hand swipe at my toothbrush and toothpaste. So long as I kept my movements slow, small, and lived basically from now on, I’d survive the hell going on inside my body. Also, so long as I brushed my teeth four times and gargled with mouthwash I wouldn’t throw up again. So that’s what I did.
I was just drying my face when my phone started ringing in my bedroom, making me groan at the thought of moving.
Looking at the blurry person in the mirror, I moaned, “I’m not ready.”
Apparently the person calling agreed with this because the phone stopped ringing. Sinking back down on the floor, I rested my head on the cool tiles, and my moans this time were because that just felt freaking awesome.
Until the phone started ringing again… then again…
Whimpering, I crawled back through to the bedroom and tugged on the white cord that was responsible for juicing up the device from Satan, letting it drop from the bedside table onto the rug before answering it.
I didn’t put it to my ear because that would involve movement and co-ordination. Instead, I hit the green button and immediately hit the speakerphone one. “What?”
A voice that sounded equally as rough as mine croaked, “Are you dying too?”
Lowering so that I was face down on my new rug, I groaned, “Yes.”
“I’ve never felt this bad in my life, and I pushed a baby out my vagina.”
That was a weird thing for a random voice to say, but I couldn’t even begin to analyze it, not when I had the inhabitants of a heavy metal mosh pit headbanging inside my skull. “Did that happen last night?”
I didn’t remember someone doing that, but we’d been drinking pretty heavily so who knew what was going on under the table?
Just then a baby started crying in the background and I heard a deep voice say, “I’ll get her,” as the person on the phone started making crying whining noises too.
“I swear when she does that it feels like an axe murderer is attacking my brain,” it wailed, which then made me start whimpering because I felt her pain.
I wanted to let her know that and that she had my full sympathy, but the words just wouldn’t form. At last, after what felt like seventy years of pain, the baby settled, and both of us let out relieved sighs at the same time.
“So are you ready to go?” the voice asked, and I slowly lowered my head to look at what I was wearing, not once lifting it up from the rug or noticing the abrasiveness of the fabric on my cheek. I was in a tank top and panties, that was it, and I wasn’t sure what we were doing, but I was sure that my current outfit wasn’t suitable for public consumption.
“Not really.”
“I’m gonna crawl in the shower,” she croaked, “then crawl back out of it. Then I’m gonna beg him to put clothes on me so I can leave the house. Then…”
As interesting as the breakdown was of her future plans, I interrupted her anyway. “Who is this?”
“Tabby,” she croaked. “Who’s this?”
“Hey, Tabby, it’s Kat. Where are we going?”
“The writing on my hand says, ‘call Kat, get dog’. I thought it meant I needed to call my cat and then go get my dog, by the cat has a K like your name, so I guess we’re getting a dog.”
Groaning, I got up onto my knees, keeping my head on the floor until the last second, and then slowly lifted my upper body up too. “Ok, I’m getting in the shower.”
Tabby just got out a, “See you soon,” before she hung up, and I dragged myself back to the bathroom for a shower, praying throughout the whole thing that I didn’t drown.
* * *
Two hours later…
In all my life, not once had I felt the pain I felt when I opened the door after she knocked on it and I got the sunlight in my eyes. I’d broken my arm and my ankle, and the pain they’d caused didn’t even come close to that sunlight. Grabbing my sunglasses out of my purse, I pushed them up my nose and squinted at Tabby who was wearing a cap and sunglasses as she used my door frame to hold herself up.
“Car. Now.”
With my hands cupped around my eyes, I stumbled behind her, only just remembering to close the door behind me and lock it. When I turned back, I took one step and heard, “Yo, Tab, Kat.”
With my hands still up, I turned and saw a group of guys from work moving things into the house next to mine. I’d rented one of the newly built houses on the outskirts of Piersville after falling in love with it on first sight. They were small and they were close enough to town that I didn’t have to wake up at the crack of dawn to get to work, but far enough away that I had peace and privacy.
Or at least I had had privacy until a group of men moved in next door who knew my name.
Tabby called, “Hey… Oh, hey, Jarrod!”
Before I could ask her where she was looking to s
ee him because I couldn’t see him at all, she grabbed my hands away from my face and tugged me to the car, waving over her shoulder. Fortunately neither of us were driving because we were more than likely still over the limit and I wasn’t even sure what hand-eye coordination was and you needed that to drive, so I sat in the front next to Dave as Tabby got in the back with her daughter, Sheena, and we headed to the Dog Rescue place Dave knew that about twenty minutes away.
As Tabby and I got out of the vehicle, I warned her, “I need to cover my eyes because the second I make eye contact with a dog I’ll want to take it home.”
“You said last night it had to be a small dog so you can put it in your purse. This place has them sectioned out in small, medium and large breeds, so just cover your eyes until I say you’re safe.”
I’d just reached out for the handle of the door that said ENTRANCE in huge letters, when she said it and it all became clear. “Wait, I’m the one getting the dog?”
“Yup, girls are out getting what you need for it, so we just have to take it back.”
“Tabby, I don’t think…”
Ignoring the fact my hand was on the handle, she tugged the door open and gestured inside. “Good, because I can’t think right now. I’m never drinking with you guys again.”
Following along behind her, I was in full agreement with her on that one.
“It’s unlikely they’d let me take the dog home today anyway,” I muttered to the back of her bright pink head – hair that normally made me jealous, but right now was killing me. “They’ve got to do background checks, checks on your…”
“Why, Katy Crew, I’m so excited to have you here for your first puppy!” A voice screeched from the office and made it clear I was totally screwed because I would be taking the dog home with me today. “Whatever she wants, Beth, Katy gets. She’s totally clear on all the checks.”
And why was that? Because I didn’t realize that my parents neighbor was the director of this rescue center.
* * *
Ten minutes later…
I had my hands over my eyes as Tabby pulled me along behind her. I wasn’t exaggerating, I was terrible when it came to dogs. My uncle now had three because when I’d gone with him to adopt one from a place near where he lived, I’d dropped a hand to cover my mouth so I could cough and had made eye contact with a dog. Then, I’d tripped over a bucket and put both hands out to catch myself, and made eye contact with another dog. Then he’d pointed the one out that he’d actually wanted to adopt while he was filling in the paperwork for the other two… and he ended up with it, too. We’d also had four dogs in the house when I was a kid because of that exact reason. I was the worst person to ever go dog adopting with.
“One second, she’s just moving a bag of food,” Tabby told me as we stopped.
A high pitched, heart breaking whine came from beside me, and without thinking I dropped my hands and stared into the prettiest eyes I’d ever seen in my life – apart from Jarrod’s. They were also not that much lower than where my own eyes were while I was standing up. As if that wasn’t bad enough, the dog then raised a paw and scratched at the cage in front of me, whining the whole time.
“Uh, Katy…” Tabby murmured beside me. “That’s not a little dog.”
No, it was the size of a fucking horse, but it was love at first sight and we’d made eye contact.
Looking around her, I got Beth’s attention. “This one.”
Three
Jarrod
My couch had never felt so good as it did at that moment as I leaned back and took a sip of my beer. I was moved into my new place and it was frigging awesome. I had peace, quiet, my house was the shit, and I could focus on my secret without anyone finding out.
Groaning as he raised the footrest on my recliner, Ren got comfy with his own beer. “So, Katy Crew’s your neighbor, man,” he snickered, wiggling his eyebrows as the others joined us. “How’s that for luck.”
“Who’s Katy Crew?” My brother Bond asked as he sat beside me, with my other brother Canon beside him.
“Christ, it’s like looking at three different versions of Jarrod,” Cole muttered as he sat in the other recliner, leaving my last brother, Reid, to sit in my desk chair which was currently parked beside where I was sitting. When he did, Cole added, “Make that four different versions of him.”
Yeah, we all looked a lot alike, with the main differences being the colors of our eyes. I had green, hazel and blue in mine, Bond’s were a lighter blue, Canon’s were a dark green, and Reid’s were a mixture of green and brown – as in, both colors seemed to twirl around his irises together. Freaky bastard.
“Ok, I gotta ask,” Ren said, leaning forward in his chair now. “Who’s the oldest, and how did y’all get the eyes. Brother,” he directed at me, “your eyes have been a topic of conversation in the Townsend houses for a long time…”
“No shit,” Cole agreed. “My wife won’t quit talking about them and his voice.”
“So if my wife or the other ladies see all y’all together, I think they’re gonna melt on the spot,” Ren continued like his brother hadn’t said anything.
Glaring at him, Cole growled, “Apart from my wife, because she likes my eyes just fine.”
“That’s where you’re wrong, man. My wife worships the ground I walk on and loves every part of me, but as much as they love us, the second he looks at any of the women they legit turn into giggling schoolgirls.”
“Is that a fact?” Bond asked before Cole could argue back. “I see you’ve been holding back on us, J.”
In actual fact, I hadn’t been because what Ren said wasn’t true. At least, I didn’t think it was true?
Ignoring all of it, I pointed at Bond, “He’s the oldest at thirty-one, Canon’s next at twenty-nine, as you know I’m twenty-seven, and Reid is the baby at twenty-four.”
Both men’s mouths opened slightly hearing how close in age we were – again, something we got a lot.
“Whoa, your parents were on a roll, weren’t they?” Cole muttered, getting a glare from all four of us. “Are your parents giants, too?”
“Dad’s six foot seven,” Reid told him, pausing for effect. “Mom’s five foot four.”
Ironically, if I had to take a guess, that was the difference in heights between me and my new neighbor if she wasn’t wearing heels, too.
If they looked shocked before, the looks on their faces now were downright hilarious.
“Five foot four?” Cole clarified. When we all nodded, he stood up and looked at us all. “Bullshit. No way can an ittle bitty squeeze out four behemoths back to back like that. No fucking way.”
He was right on one part of that – we were all behemoths. Bond and Canon were six foot six, and me and Reid were six foot seven, but she’d definitely given birth to all four of us which was why we spoiled her on Mother’s Day.
“Jesus,” Ren mumbled, looking at us all and ignoring his brother’s outburst again. “That’s impressive. What about the eye thing?”
“The quirky quirks of DNA, man,” Canon replied, putting his empty bottle on the coffee table. “Mom’s from Jamaica, Dad’s family are German. You’d think we’d get Mom’s eyes, but somehow we all have a mixture of green and blue. I read up on it somewhere and the dominant gene should be her brown eyes, but sometimes there can be blue eyed DNA further back that mix with the blue of this parent. I’m not sure if that’s right because I’m not a geneticist and I hated biology, so I’m not sure the exact reasons.”
Normally people went quiet when we explained it, like they were trying to figure it out or were uncomfortable discussing it, but Townsends were unpredictable, which was proven when Cole nodded and said, “A friend of our family in Gonzales County has white parents but she’s black. They did DNA tests on her and it’s something to do with DNA related phenomenon called atavism, which is when a dormant gene from centuries ago reactivates itself and becomes a dominant one.”
“Holy shit. Is she hot?” Reid asked, rubbing his h
ands together.
Taking a quick look at his brother, Ren snickered, “She’s our cousin’s.” Making Reid sit back in his chair like he was disappointed.
I knew the Townsend family well and I’d heard all about Archer and Bonnie. I wasn’t sure if I’d say she was his, but with how determined the Townsend species was, I didn’t doubt he’d make sure that it ended up being the case.
“So, who’s Katy Crew?” Canon asked, bringing up a subject that I’d hoped would stay buried after our trip down DNA lane.
“She’s the hot chick who lives next door,” Cole grinned, winking at me. “And she works with Jarrod, too.”
Looking at each other, Bond and Canon stood up and made their way to the window that faced out the front of the house.
“Exactly how hot is hot?” Bond asked over his shoulder.
Holding his hands up in front of him, Ren shook his head. “I’m her boss so I can’t talk.”
“I can,” Cole offered. “Out of ten she’s a twenty. Petite, beautiful face, brunette hair, long, bangs that go like this,” he moved his hand in a sweep across one eye. “She’s got that innocent doe vibe about her, teamed with the slightly nerdy chick.”
“That’s fucking hot,” Reid mumbled as he got up and went to join them at the window.
“Yeah,” Cole nodded. “And even better, she doesn’t fucking know it.”
By the time he was done, I’d peeled the label off my bottle and was getting ready to throw it at one of their heads – the bottle, not the label - mainly Cole’s.
“You hitting that, J?” Reid asked, his attention focused on the road in front of the house.
That’s when I got up and was across the room before they knew it. Grabbing Reid by the collar of his t-shirt, I pulled him behind me. “Don’t talk about her like that, asshole,” I growled, letting him go and pointing at the chairs. “Sit your ass down.”
I was about to give the same order to Bond and Canon, when Canon ran to the door, opened it, and was outside before I could stop him. Following behind him was Bond who glared at me before he cleared it. “You lucky bastard!”
Talk Flirty To Me: Cheap Thrills Series Book 4 Page 3
