Page 57 of My Rules

“Tired?” Henley frowns. “How can you still be tired? It’s Thursday.”

“Vegas fucked me up the ass, okay? I’m flatlining. I’ve had a hangover that’s lasted four days, I’m busy as all hell at work, my voice is hoarse, my dick is fucking sore, and to top it off, I’m now having hot flashes.”

“Your dick is sore because you dry humped a mannequin twenty minutes after you had it pierced, you fucking idiot,” Henley snaps.

I pinch the bridge of my nose as the memory swings back around. “Honestly, I don’t know what goes through my pea brain at times.”

“We need to do these speeches.”

“Tomorrow.” I keep drinking the orange juice as I peer into the depressingly empty refrigerator. “I keep hoping that the food fairy is going to miraculously deliver me groceries every day while I’m at work, but the bitch never shows.”

“Pull it together, man. Who gives a crap about groceries?” Antony sighs. “We have speeches to write.” He picks up his pen. “And why the hell would you be having hot flashes?”

“He’s in menopause now.” Henley rolls his eyes. “Nothing would surprise me anymore.”

I slam the fridge shut. “Why are you at my house doing this?”

“Because Juliet’s cousins are all at my place, and they’ve taken over everything, and I’m about to jump out the window to put myself out of my misery,” he says in a creepily calm voice as he fakes a smile. “That’s why.”

“And my brother is fighting with his wife in my kitchen while his children sleep on my living room floor,” Antony adds.

Huh?

I hold both my hands up in question but am too tired to even open my mouth to ask it. “Whatever.” I slide my shoes off and walk into the living room and lie on the couch. I kick off the cushions and raise my legs to rest on the back of the couch. “Someone at least order takeout or something. I’m fucking starving.” I put the back of my forearm over my eyes. “I really need to go to bed. Actually ...” I get up and get a packet of frozen peas, lie back down, and put them over my crotch. My cock is throbbing like a motherfucker.

“Better?” Antony asks.

“Better.”

“What do you want to eat?”

“I don’t care.” I sigh.

“Lasagna?” They have a chuckle between themselves.

“Very funny,” I snap. “Antony, we are swapping partners at the wedding.”

“No, you’re not,” Henley snaps.

“I am not talking to Rebecca, let alone dancing with her.”

“Yes. You. Are.”

“And don’t you dare go on with your jealous ape act and beat up anyone who looks at her at the wedding,” Antony warns.

“I am not jealous of Rebecca.” I screw up my face. “As if.”

“Yeah right,” Antony scoffs.

“I escorted John from the property because he deserved it.” I point to the front door. “Now ... get out of my house before I escort you both out in the same manner.”

I load the car with our bags, and Antony climbs in. “We have to pick up Chloe after we get Rebecca.”

I pull up out front and beep my horn, and the front door opens. “I’m coming.” Bec holds up her finger. “Two minutes.”

I stop the car and get out as I wait. Eventually I walk through the open front door and into Rebecca’s house. The best way to get through this weekend is to just pretend everything is normal. “Can I take this suitcase out to the car?” I call.

Rebecca comes around the corner. “Yes, please.”

---