Page 18 of From Fling to Ring

He hates that.

“Goddammit, Ty.”

“Hey, you gonna finish that?” I ask, pointing at his plate of take-out.

He groans. “Yes, I’m gonna finish this. I’m always gonna finish my food. I don’t know why you always ask.”

“Be glad he’s not sharing, Tyler,” Jonas says. “That’s some nasty-ass corner store sushi that was probably sitting unrefrigerated, for days.”

He’s probably right.

“Oh man. If that’s true, Rake, you are in for some nasty stomach issues. If the bad sushi kicks in while you’re still here, I’ve got a big bottle of kaopectate in my medicine cabinet, upper right-hand side. You’re welcome to it.”

Rake throws me a dirty look, and pops two California rolls in his mouth at one time. “Mmmm, good,” he says with a full mouth.

“You are truly demented, my man.”

“So hey, back to Lucy. Did she really agree to a date? Are you sure you aren’t mistaken or something?” Jonas asks.

Dick.

“I got us tickets to the symphony.”

Rake laughs so hard a couple grains of sushi rice spray out of his mouth onto the cards he’s holding.

Yup, this deck will go right in the garbage when the game’s over.

“The symphony? Like the kind with music? Dude, do you even know the difference between a violin and a viola?” he asks.

Like he does?

“Yes, asshole, the kind of symphony where you sit in the audience and listen to music. And a viola is bigger. No. Wait. A violin is. But really, who gives a fuck. I checked out her Instagram and saw she likes cultural shit like that.”

“Too bad she hates hockey,” Rake adds.

“Whatever. You two are just mad I’m making progress on our bet. Ninety days are gonna fly by, and before we know it, you two will be out on the ice wearing dresses and tights.”

Rake rolls his eyes. “Don’t be so sure, buddy. A lot can happen in three months. Hey, you gonna tell her about your cookie baking?”

I knew someone was going to go there.

“No, and you better not breathe a word, not even to your trusted wife. You know this is my thing, my private thing, and the only reason you two know about it is because you are nosy fucks.”

Yes, I bake cookies to de-stress. What about it?

“Jesus, guy, relax. I’m not saying a word, not even to my wife. But next time you make those snickerdoodles, I’d like one or two,” Rake says.

“I’ll think about it.”

Jonas wrinkles his face. “What the hell do you do with all those cookies, anyway? You can’t possibly eat them.”

“Don’t worry about it. Hey, I’m feeling good about my cards here. If you two would stop flapping your gums, I could win and send you home penniless. So let’s get on with it,” I say.

Rake looks at his cards in disgust. “Guess it’s just not my night. Folding.” He throws his cards on the table.

We look at Jonas, who purses his lips, then looks hard at me. “Fine. I’m folding too.”

Another win for me.

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