Page 49 of Unspoken Rules

“Maybe it’s just not meant to be.”

“Yeah, maybe.”

“You hungry?” he questions.

“Starved, actually.”

“Food’s in the dining room.” He gestures for me to follow him, and we move out of the living room. Food in buffet trays over warmers line the counters. There’s at least thirty of them.

“This explains why all the alcohol is out there,” I comment.

We get into the line that’s already wrapped around the kitchen, grabbing a plastic plate and fork when we reach them. There is so much food, it’s unbelievable. Though I’m sure with all the people here, by the end of the night, these will all be empty. Or at least, close to it.

I pile my plate with rice, steak tips, shrimp, mashed potatoes, chicken parmesan, mac and cheese, and a biscuit. There was more I wanted to take, but my plate wasn’t big enough.

“Eat outside?” Tomas asks, and I nod.

We head outside, maneuvering through people, trying not to bump into anyone. My hands are full of food and my drink. My mouth is watering, and the last thing I want is to wait in that line again for more food because I spilled what I have.

Plastic tables and chairs fill up the backyard, all under large white tents with lights along the poles and inside to brighten it all up. We find empty seats at one toward the back, sit and eat.

“What do you do for work?” Tomas asks.

Ah, the million dollar question.

“Still looking.”

I don’t want to admit to people I’m painting walls for a living right now.

“What did you do in college?”

“BFA. Major in graphic design and minor in painting.”

He whistles. “You planning on starting your own business?”

“Doing freelance work until I can snag something with benefits, probably. How about you?”

“Bank Manager at the east side branch of Merits. I hated school, so college was a definite no for me.”

I huff out a laugh. “I can see why. It’s stressful as hell. You like being at the bank?”

“I don’t mind it. The hours are great. Pay is good. I don’t have to deal with customers directly, so that’s a bonus.”

I point at him with my fork. “Which is why I got into graphic design. I can sit behind a computer and do my thing.”

He nods. “Speaking my lang—”

“Wet t-shirt contest!” Mark’s voice rings through the air as he runs out of the house, causing everyone out here to look that way. He has a girl over his shoulder, ass in the air, and a line of guys running out after him, all with girls in the same position. People go wild. Hooting and hollering. Cackling and jumping up and down like money is falling from the sky. The girls get set down on the driveway by the garage, which is when I notice Chris is there too. He carried a redhead over. Definitely a different girl than he was fucking last week.

Mark goes for the hose and doesn't hesitate to spray the girls. They jump up and down, grabbing their boobs and making them bounce. Seems none of them have bras on. And it’s not very warm tonight.

“Never understood the excitement over tits,” I comment, turning back to my food. If I hurry up and eat all this, I can sneak back in for more and avoid a line while everyone is out here being mesmerized by nipples.

Tomas huffs out a laugh. “Me either. They’re just… skin bags of fat.”

I laugh pretty hard at that. “I mean, it’s kinda cool they can feed babies and shit.”

“That is definitely cool. Imagine having a body part that could feed someone?”

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