Page 105 of Pucking Revenge

With a shake of my head, I open the oven a couple of inches to check on the lasagna. When I note that the cheese has melted perfectly, I pull it out and pop the garlic bread in. By the time the lasagna is cool enough to eat, the bread will be ready.

I point to the lettuce next to War. “Make yourself useful and toss that salad?”

War chokes on his beer. A little dribbles down his chin as he pounds on his chest and coughs. “Guy’s got jokes.”

I shrug. “No, I really just want you to toss the lettuce.”

McGreevey steps into the kitchen, glass of red wine in hand. “Smells fucking phenomenal. Becca is going to be so jealous.” He pulls out his phone, leans in close to my masterpiece, and snaps a picture of himself grinning beside it. He taps out a text, then pockets the device again and sips his wine.

“You can take her a plate,” I offer.

He laughs. “Nah. It’s more fun this way. She taunts me with pictures of the things she makes for dinner while I’m on the road. It’s only fair that I do the same for her.”

“If I was married, those are not the kind of pictures I’d want my wife to send me while I was gone,” War chimes in.

McGreevey licks his lips. “Oh, I get those pictures too. Not all of us are lonely with just our hand day in and day out.”

I snort, and War glares at me. “Boy’s not celibate for the first time in his life, and now he’s judging me.”

I fold my arms across my chest. “I’m not not celibate.”

His eyes go comically wide, and I worry he’s going to choke on his beer again. “Sara hasn’t taken that virginity yet?”

The apartment goes dead silent, and War cringes. Yeah, man. His voice was entirely too loud.

“Saint’s a virgin?” Hall asks, blue drink dangling from his fingers.

War sets his beer on the bar. “Shit.” He meets my eyes, red faced and wearing an apologetic frown. “Sorry, man.”

I shake my head and wave him off. “You’re all making a bigger deal out of this than it needs to be.”

“Dude, you’re a thirty-year-old virgin.” Hall nudges my brother, probably expecting backup.

Aiden merely shrugs, shaker in hand. “Guy’s only ever wanted one girl. I think it’s sweet.”

My chest goes tight at the sincerity in his tone. “Thanks, bro.”

Hall sighs, his shoulders slumping. “But you’ve got the glitter. Why would you get the glitter if you weren’t going to use it?”

Aiden pauses his shaker. “Did you just say my brother’s donkey dick’s ‘got the glitter’?”

“Did you just refer to his junk as a ‘donkey dick’?” McGreevey mutters with a grimace. “Fucking Americans, you guys are weird as shit.”

“Least we don’t eat ketchup chips,” Aiden chirps. He’s the only person I know who doesn’t like ketchup. “Crazy Canadians.”

I snort. “You can’t insult the Canadians. They gave us hockey.”

He glares at me and shakes the stainless-steel cup he’s still clutching for emphasis. “I had your back.”

“Hey.” I hold up my hands and laugh. “I’m not bothered that I’m a virgin. Neither is Sara. It’ll happen when it happens.”

“But, like, it’s gotta be romantic, right?” Hall says, stalking toward me now.

“Um, no.” I grab a beer from the fridge and point at the salad. “War, grab that.” Then I hand my beer to Hall. “And you, take this. Aiden, get the bread. I’ll grab the lasagna.”

“What can I do?” McGreevey asks.

“Summon the guys so we can plan the great deflowering,” Hall jokes.

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