Page 102 of The Dixon Rule

It’s a struggle not to fall on the floor laughing. Shane’s drunk, all right. No way would he admit any of this sober.

“And look! I even picked up refreshments. And I had to walk into the liquor store with John Logan and ask the clerk for assistance because I couldn’t find this on the shelf. I looked like a total loser. John Logan laughed at me, Dixon. Because of you.”

With a flourish, he removes a bottle of the Pink Stuff from the paper bag.

Surprise flickers in my eyes. “You stopped to buy my favorite drink?”

“Only the best for my fake girlfriend.”

A smile creeps onto my face despite my resistance. Damn it. I hate to admit it, but this jackass is growing on me.

“Fine,” I relent, taking the pink bottle from him. “I’ll get us some glasses.”

As I walk to the kitchen, Shane ambles toward the fish tank. “What’s up, Skip?” he greets the goldfish. “Hey, Dixon,” he calls over his shoulder. “Are we sure he’s in good health? He looks fat.”

“Oh, he’s in terrible health. He’s on diet food.”

“There’s diet fish food?”

“Yeah, I have to special order it from some weird lady in Florida. She makes it herself. But it doesn’t matter what I do to try to help this asshole. He doesn’t lose weight.”

“Aww, leave him alone. He’s just a husky boy who loves his pirate’s chest.”

I grin when I see Shane peering into the tank, his face pressed up right against the glass.

“He’s got, like, dead eyes.”

“I know. It’s very unnerving.” I carry two wineglasses filled to the brim with pink liquid and set them both on the coffee table. “How was your hockey thing?”

“Legends, Dixon. I spent the whole day and night with legends.” He sighs happily. “It was fucking spectacular.”

“I’m glad you had a good time.” I reach for the remote. “All right. There’s a selection ceremony at the end of this episode. Any predictions about who Marissa is going to choose?”

“One hundred percent Steven.”

“Hate to break it to you, but she’s totally making a play for Connor.”

“No way. Zoey’s too beloved. You can’t be the person to send Zoey home and expect to win a single vote in the finale. Even Marissa’s not that dumb. I’m sticking with Steven.”

I sip my drink and focus on the screen. About ten minutes in, Ky and new boy Juan get to spend the night in the Sugar Suite.

And I’m not going to lie.

It gets hot.

I gulp down some more alcohol as the couple starts making out on a white bed adorned with rose petals. There’s no actual nudity, but we catch tantalizing glimpses of Ky tossing her lacy red bra onto the floor. Juan sliding her thong down her tanned legs. Juan’s boxers getting flung across the suite.

A second later, the couple is under the duvet, and it looks like he’s operating a jackhammer in there.

“That’s ferociously fast,” I remark. “And they went from kissing to super penetration in five seconds. Where’s the foreplay?”

“What’s super penetration?”

“That. The entire bed is shaking. How is this fun for her? There’s no way this girl’s having an orgasm.”

“I don’t know. Maybe she asked for it. Maybe she was like, Don’t go down on me, Juan. I need to be pounded, preferably at a speed of sixty miles an hour, in order to come.”

I burst out laughing, nearly spitting my drink all over the couch.

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