Down and Dirty

by Kendall Ryan

  He cringes at my use of his least favorite word. “Yeah? What for?”

  I slide my thumbs through his belt loops, gazing up at him with mischievous eyes. “For make-up sex. Duh.”

  Landon’s dimple reappears, his face breaking into an enormous smile as he slips the key into the door. “That’s another first for me.”

  “I like being your first,” I say, chewing on my lip. “And I just might be your last, if I’m lucky.”

  “I think I’m the lucky one.” He nods toward my wedding ring, then pushes the door open, waving me inside. “Now, come on. We’ve got some making up to do.”

  21

  * * *

  Old Friends and New Beginnings

  Aubree

  “Good morning, sunshine.” Elise yawns, rolling out her yoga mat next to mine.

  The clock on the wall says 8:50, just ten minutes before the start of my favorite Saturday morning yoga class. The gang is officially all here, dressed in leggings and tank tops, and ready to get their flow on.

  “Morning!” Ana wiggles her fingers toward Elise in a tiny wave, then presses into downward dog, pedaling her feet to stretch out her calves.

  The two of us arrived early, as usual, to have enough time to stretch out and chat before the rest of the girls began filtering in, grabbing mats to set up next to us near the back of the studio. Thank God for Ana. She’s been a consistent yoga buddy for me these past few years, even when the other girls had absolutely zero interest in tagging along.

  “How are you guys this flexible this early in the morning?” Elise eyes Ana’s form suspiciously while trying, and failing, to touch her toes.

  Much like most of my friends, Elise has never been one for yoga. Which is why it’s so special that they’re all here this morning. When I messaged the group chat with the idea of us all going to class together, I was expecting pushback and pleas for brunch. Instead, everyone agreed to be at the studio bright and early.

  Half of September has slipped away, and we’re just two weeks away from the big move to Vancouver, so everyone has been especially insistent on seeing plenty of one another before I go.

  “So, what’s new with you guys?” I ask, working my legs into lotus pose.

  Becca pipes up from behind me, where she’s barely managing a quadricep stretch. Ignoring my question, she asks about me instead. “Are you and Landon all ready for the move?”

  “As ready as we can be,” I say on a sigh. “I feel like my whole life is in cardboard boxes. Meanwhile, I don’t think my husband has even thought about packing.”

  Everyone chuckles, except Sara, who looks a little rattled. “Confession time . . . I’m still not used to you calling him your husband.”

  “Honestly, me either.” I laugh. “Probably because we skipped over the whole boyfriend-and-girlfriend part.”

  “And the fiancée part,” Elise says, wiggling her ring finger in our direction. She hasn’t missed an opportunity to show off that diamond since Justin put it on her finger.

  “Yeah, Bree, you skipped the fun stuff.” Ana comes down from her downward dog, pretzeling her legs beneath her. “We didn’t get to throw you an engagement party or anything.”

  “We could do one now,” Bailey says. “A delayed engagement slash wedding slash going-away celebration.”

  The girls break out into excited chatter, talking over one another in three simultaneous conversations about decorations, food, and drinks. It takes a few glares from other women in the studio, who are desperately trying to find their Zen, for everyone to notice their sudden volume increase.

  “Shh, guys,” I hiss through my teeth, motioning for everyone to bring it down a few notches. “I don’t need a big party or anything. Landon and I are already planning on going on a delayed honeymoon next summer. That’s all the celebration I need.”

  “Okay, but we don’t get to go on the honeymoon,” Becca says in a hushed, yet sassy voice. “We want to celebrate you too. Plus, it’s an excuse for everyone to get together before you leave.”

  I mull it over, chewing my lower lip in thought. She makes a good point. “How about I ask Landon and see what he thinks?”

  “He’ll say yes as long as it’s something you want to do,” Elise says, her tone pleading.

  “Come on, let us do this. We’ll keep it casual, I promise.” Ana blinks at me with big puppy-dog eyes.

  God, these girls make it impossible to say no.

  “Fine. Go for it,” I say, raising my palms in surrender. “But nothing fancy. Let’s keep it low-key and casual, okay?”

  Soft, soothing music starts to play, which is our cue to quit talking and get our meditation on. Something my party-planning friends make it nearly impossible to achieve. Throughout the whole class, I can hear Ana and Bailey whispering to each other, discussing dates and locations.

  The second class is over, Bailey scrambles to her locker to grab her phone, texting Landon to confirm the details. Next Friday, seven p.m., Landon’s apartment. They’ll all come over at five to decorate, meaning it looks like the hubby and I are going out to dinner beforehand.

  I roll my eyes, sliding my shoes back on before heading for the door. “You guys are insane, you know that?”

  “Nope,” Ana says with an enormous grin. “We just love you, that’s all.”

  • • •

  It’s just past seven when Landon and I step out of the elevator and toward his apartment, where we can already hear the party underway. It’s Friday night, and we’re fresh off a sushi dinner and a mini make-out sesh in the parking garage, ready to celebrate the crazy past few months the two of us have had with a low-key gathering of our friends.

  At least, that’s what I told my friends I wanted. But by the sounds of clinking glasses and ambient music spilling out from behind Landon’s apartment door, I somehow get the feeling tonight’s party isn’t going to be as chill as I anticipated.

  “Do you think I have to knock at my own apartment?” Landon asks, his dark brows knitting together as he digs in his pocket for his keys.

  I lift a shoulder, weaving my fingers into the spaces between his. “They probably wouldn’t even hear you over the music.”

  We decide to just walk in, finding the door unlocked. Inside, we’re greeted by a dozen friendly faces, a few of them unexpected. I knew we’d have all the regulars, but it looks like Ana’s hot-tempered boyfriend, Jason, turned up for the party, along with Grant and Jordie, who I haven’t seen since the wedding. When Becca said that this party would be a good way to get everyone together, she really meant everyone. As much as I put up a fight about it, I really am grateful to have all my favorite people together one last time before we leave.

  “Hey, hey! Right on time,” Owen calls from the kitchen, lifting two beer bottles in the air so as not to spill them as he weaves through the crowd.

  Landon’s apartment is spacious, but it’s still a one-bedroom, not really designed to hold two dozen people. Becca follows a few steps behind Owen, and pulls me in for a big hug.

  “Welcome to the first, and therefore best, engagement slash wedding slash going-away party you’ve ever been to.” She gestures to the sparkly silver banner above the couch that reads CONGRATULATIONS! and another right below it that reads BON VOYAGE.

  “For some reason, the party store didn’t sell any combination wedding and going-away party banners.” Bailey emerges from the crowded kitchen and hands me a flute of champagne.

  “This is too much,” I say, gasping as I take in the black and silver balloons dotting the corners of the room, along with the twinkle lights draped along the granite countertops. It feels like New Year’s Eve in September, in the best possible way.

  “Just wait till you see the games!” Ana pulls me into the living room, showing off the trivia game she’s made out of a poster board. She’s written MARRIAGE BOOT CAMP 101 in big bold letters across the top, and each colorful square has a different question written on it, meant to test how well couples know each other.

  Ap
parently, when I said tonight should be low-key and casual, what Ana heard was annoying party games, the kind you play at a baby shower or bridal party. Yes, because I’m sure my new husband is going to love answering trivia questions and diapering a baby doll. Except Landon’s smile hasn’t faded once, and his rich laughter floats across the room to me even now.

  God, I’m so lucky to have him.

  Once everyone has a drink and a plate of appetizers, we congregate in the living room, pairing off into couples to play the game. Jordie and Grant, the only single guys here, are good sports about being a “Bro Power Couple,” insisting that they’ll beat all the actual couples, which gets a good laugh.

  “Come here, Jason.” Ana waves over her boyfriend, who has been sitting on the couch scrolling through his phone since we got here. “We’re starting the game.”

  Reluctantly, Jason pockets his phone and stalks over to where Ana’s seated on the carpet, divvying out poker chips to use as game pieces and explaining the rules—roll the dice, move your poker chip that many spaces, and answer the question you land on about your significant other. Clearly, she put a lot of work into this. Honestly, my heart could burst, no matter how cheesy it is.

  “The guests of honor get to go first,” Ana says, handing off the dice to Landon.

  He rolls them on the board, moves the chip along, and lands on a square marked FAVORITE MOVIE.

  “Piece of cake,” he says, shooting me a knowing grin. “Annie.”

  I nod enthusiastically. “Got it. And yours is Shawshank Redemption.”

  “Yup.”

  We high-five, both of us beaming with pride. Not bad for a couple that’s only been together for three months.

  “Us next!” Becca giddily snatches up the dice, giving them a roll. She and Owen ace the question about favorite sports teams, which seems unfair seeing as they both say the Seattle Ice Hawks.

  After a few more couples ace their questions, including Jordie and Grant, Ana and Jason are up.

  “You know this one,” Ana says, clapping her hands between words for emphasis. “My favorite animal! It’s easy!”

  Her boyfriend has clueless written all over his face. “I don’t know it. Can I just guess?”

  She lets out an exasperated huff, turning toward the group. “Can I give him a clue?”

  “Go for it.” Asher shrugs. “You made the game.”

  “When we went to the pumpkin patch and they had that petting zoo . . .” She nods toward him, waiting for him to fill in the blanks. “Remember? There was one animal I really, really wanted to pet? Even though there were tons of little kids in line?”

  Jason stares at her blankly. “Dog?”

  “Oh my God.” She rolls her eyes, throwing her hands up with a frustrated groan. “It’s a goat. Specifically, I love baby goats. You totally knew that.”

  “Well, sorry I haven’t memorized every damn thing about you, Ana.” Jason’s jaw tics, his dark eyes narrowing to a squint. “Not every word out of your mouth is fucking gold, you know.”

  “Cool it, dude,” Landon says in a low voice, giving Jason a nudge. “It’s just a game.”

  “Whatever. This is fucking stupid,” Jason says on a sigh.

  Ana shoots her boyfriend a pleading look. “Can we take it easy on the f-bombs tonight and just relax?” She reaches out to rest a hand on his shoulder, but he shrugs out of her reach.

  “Don’t fucking tell me to relax.” He pushes to his feet, stepping over the game board and toward the door. “I’ll catch you guys later.”

  And just like that, he’s gone, leaving his teary-eyed girlfriend on the floor, confused and hurt.

  For a stunned moment, everyone is quiet. The only sound is the ventilation system kicking on and a soft whoosh of air. Ana looks stunned, shaken, and my heart aches for her.

  “I . . . I . . .” Ana stammers, her gaze darting between me and the door. “I’m so sorry. I think maybe I should just go.”

  “You don’t have to leave, Ana,” I say, giving her a pleading look.

  “I know, but I just . . .” She shakes her head. I can tell she’s about three minutes away from real tears.

  Crap. I remember being in that situation at the brunch table in Vegas. All I wanted was to run away before my friends saw me cry.

  “Whatever you want to do,” I say. “It’s up to you.”

  “I think it’s better if I just go,” she says quietly.

  “I can take you,” Grant says, rising and holding out a hand to help Ana to her feet. “As much as Jordie and I are a power couple at this game, I’d better quit while I’m ahead.”

  Something inside me squeezes at the sight of this huge, hulking man of few words and even fewer emotions offering to be her savior for the night.

  Then again, I recall the way Grant’s jaw muscles flexed when Jason verbally sparred with Ana in the kitchen earlier. It was like he was grinding his molars to avoid getting between them. And while I’ve never seen him offer to drive someone home before, you’d have to be blind not to notice the way Grant sometimes looks at Ana. Then again, how could you not look at Ana in any way but with fondness? She’s adorable and tiny. And sweet, like one of those little elves who lives in a tree house baking cookies.

  Ana wipes a tear from her cheek with the side of her hand, sniffling out a thank you before saying her good-byes to everyone, promising me that we’ll do yoga again before I go and that she’ll text me when she’s safe at home.

  “Let me know who wins the game,” she says with a forced smile as Grant helps her into her coat, then holds the door open for her on their way out.

  I have no qualms about them leaving together. From the limited time I’ve spent with him, I know Grant is a good guy. Unlike Jason, apparently.

  Sara clears her throat, breaking the painful silence in the room. “Um, do you guys still want to play the game?”

  “Let’s just move on,” Bailey says. “Since Jordie is flying solo now.”

  We all agree to call it a tie on the trivia game and opt for the game Becca planned, which involves diapering baby dolls. It feels a bit more suited for a baby shower than tonight’s celebration, but I’m half a glass of champagne in, so I can’t be bothered to ask too many questions.

  I proudly claim the gold medal as the fastest person to diaper the stiff baby doll, but Asher’s years of practice as an uncle gets him the most diapers taken off and put on in a minute. Meanwhile, Landon can hardly figure out how to open the diaper packaging.

  “I didn’t think it was possible to be that bad at this, babe.” I laugh, cringing as my husband literally puts the doll’s head through one of the leg holes.

  “This is hard.” He groans, handing the doll over to me. “Can you do it?”

  “No way.” I down the rest of the glass of champagne, shaking my head. “You’ll need the practice if we’re ever going to have one of these for real.”

  “Speaking of which, I made something for you guys,” Bailey says, frantically thumbing through the photos on her phone. When she lands on what she’s looking for, she pushes a button and projects onto the screen an image with baby pictures of the both of us, and the words CONGRATS, LANDON AND AUBREE! in big, curly letters.

  My eyes gloss over the familiar shot of me in my stroller, my dark curls tumbling out of my winter hat. I’m a bit more concerned with the oversize child who, despite being bald, looks like he weighs the same as a toddler.

  “Oh my God, Landon, you were a giant baby!” Elise squawks.

  “Well, procreating is out of the question.” I laugh, only half sarcastic. No way am I pushing anything the size of that out of my lady parts.

  “I wasn’t that big,” Landon says. “Ten or eleven pounds tops, when I was born.”

  My eyes widen. “Are you kidding me? Huh-uh. No way.”

  Landon waves off my comment. “Oh, come on. We both know you want kids.”

  “I did. Past tense. Not anymore.” I fold my arms over my chest, nodding toward the humongous infant on the scree
n. Who is this man’s father? The jolly green giant?

  “We’re going to make pretty babies someday, sweetheart.” He kisses my forehead, completely undeterred by the fact that I’m still gawking at the screen.

  “I quite like my pelvic floor where it’s currently at, thank you very much.” I scoff, playfully shoving him off me.

  “I’m going to knock you up, Aubree. Just face it.”

  I smile, giving his cheek a gentle pat. “No way. We’ll adopt.”

  He chuckles, but then his blue eyes lock with mine. I watch them shift from playful to serious in a split second, and feel the weight of the moment. Despite us being surrounded by our friends, something about this feels like it’s just between the two of us. Like we’ve found this bit of privacy in a crowded room.

  God, I love him. This crazy, stubborn, sweet man.

  “Whatever you want,” he says on an exhale. “But either way, I can’t wait to watch you become a mom.”

  “And that’s our cue to go,” Owen says, hopping to his feet. He shoots Landon a wink as he corrals the rest of our friends toward the door. “Party’s over, you guys. I think somebody’s got twenty-three years of sexual repression to make up for.”

  And make up for it, we will.

  But first, Landon pulls me close for a slow, sweet kiss. “I love you, baby.”

  “And I love you,” I murmur, touching the stubble on his cheek.

  Epilogue

  * * *

  Landon

  Six weeks later

  “Nice try, fucker,” Asher says, skating past me and managing to steal the puck like it’s effortless for him.

  And maybe it is, because as much as I’ve tried to tell myself that tonight’s game is just another game, it’s becoming obvious that it’s more than that. It’s the first time I’ve seen my old teammates since I got traded to the Vancouver Rebels. And it’s only the second time I’ve skated in my new red jersey. Let’s just say I might be feeling the pressure.