Page 13 of Love on the Rocks

I shake my head. “It's really a shame you didn't become a psychologist.”

He nods his head. “Right? If I didn't fix cars I could fix people.”

“I was being sarcastic, jackass.”

Griffin shrugs. He honestly doesn't give a shit what I think. “I don't think the problem is that you played a little game of bang the boss. I think the problem is that you left her after saying we need to talk.”

As soon as the words are out of his mouth, a lightbulb goes off over my head, and I know that what he is saying is the absolute truth, and I’m a moron. I know better than to leave a woman bysaying we need to talk. At one point in time, I was actually good at dating and I knew there were certain phrases that you never say to a woman. We need to talk, I'll call you, let's be friends, it's not you it's me.

I always tried to be honest. I'm not saying I wasn't a little bit of a douchebag here and there. I had my fair share of one-night stands, I did own a bar after all, but what I never did was leave them with false hope that it was something more than what it was. I never said I would call when I knew I wouldn’t, and I never told them that I wanted a friendship when I really hoped to never see them again.

Yet here I go and leave my wife at home and my parting words were the one thing I've never uttered in my life, “We need to talk.”

I should just punch myself in the nuts.

“I can see that it's sinking in what the actual problem is, so how about you tell me what she said last night and maybe I can help you fix this shit storm. You know, that thing I do that you were just mocking?”

I take a deep breath and exhale. Honestly, he's being a lot better about this than I thought he would be. I'll probably get a lot of shit for this on our next poker night, but right now he's not busting my balls so I'm just gonna take his help. “You're right, I'm sorry. I need your help. I can't believe I'm gonna tell you this.”

“Stop being a girl and spit it out. Those moms take a long time to get out of the parking lot, but it won't be forever so get talking,” he demands.

I groan. “Okay, so she said that she wants me to be a mountain man and—uhm—hunt her down, and keep her as my captive—and force her to do stuff—like you know.” Why is it so hard to talk about this? Why can't I just say she wants me to chase her down, catch her, and force her to be my sex slave? Griffin is the kinkiest fucker I know, he's not gonna judge me. If I can't tell him, who can I tell?

A knowing smirk spreads across Griffin’s face. “A little primal play. Sweet. You'll have fun with that. I have an idea, we should call the kid.”

I massage my temples trying to fight off a growing tension headache. “I'm not sure I want to get anyone else in the group involved in this.”

“I'm not sure I give a fuck,” he says, in a mocking tone. “You're the dumbass who left his wife sayingwe need to talk.”

Yeah, he’s got me there. “Well, you are older and wiser. I mean you're at least older. But just for the record, I don't think Scott wants us to call him ‘the kid’.”

“I also don't give a fuck what he thinks. He's twenty-one. When he’s been able to drink for more than a year, maybe I’ll listen, but I’ve got a kid older than him,” Griffin says, while he searches for Scott's number in his phone.

“You've got kids younger than him too. Hell, you’ve got a kid older than yourwife. I don't think that's a rule you should be using for anything,” I remind him. Not for the first time I remember that I have a really weird group of friends.

Griffin surprisingly ignores me. The phone rings a few times, and Scott answers. Griffin puts him on speaker. “What up old man?”

“Hey kid, I got a favor I need to ask you,” Griffin, replies. I guess Scott figured out a way to make himself okay with being calledthe kid. I'll give it to him he's got balls. Not just the ones he used to hit with the bat.

“Anything, you know that. For what you and Wren have done for Harlow, I owe you more than I can ever pay back,” Scott says sincerely.

“Nah, she's family you don't pay us back for what we do for family. You’re family too kid, I'm asking this favor as family.” I give it to Griffin, he’s smooth. “You mentioned the other day that you have access to a cabin in the mountains?”

Scott chuckles. “Uh, yeah, there was this thing that Harlow was into a while back so I went and kind of bought an old hunting cabin. We still use it every once in a while. I can bring you the keys if you want to go up and play a little kinky recluse.”

“It’s not for Wren and I. Donovan and Bess are looking to spice things up. It’s taken them a decade to get to this point, and you have your own sex cabin. You’re awfully young to be this kinky. I am very proud of my little protégé,” Griffin teases.

“I always have been an overachiever. That's why I skipped the young, insecure girls and went straight for the sexy, older woman. I knew I just had to keep her. I’m on speaker, right?” Scott asks.

Griffin grunts, as is his usual reply to pretty much everything.

“Perfect. Don’t worry Donovan, we’ll get you sorted out. I’ll swing by and drop those keys off at the bar, yeah? I actually need to go and run class, talk later.”

“I can't believe this is what my life has come down to. I'm taking advice from a fifty-two-year-old man and a twenty-one-year-old man, and I actually need it,” I grumble to myself.

Griffin slaps me on the knee and grabs the door handle because the cars in front of me are starting to inch their way out of the parking lot, putting an end to this extremely awkward conversation. “There's no shame in talking to your friends. And age doesn’t mean shit in our marriages, so it shouldn’t in our friendships either. So what Scott's twenty-one? The kid knows his shit. And this old man still manages to keep up with a whole brood of young kids, and a thirty-four-year-old wife, so age is just a number. After you take those keys from the kid, you're gonna be feeling like a whole new man. Trust me on that.”

Griffin opens the door, starts to step out, and pauses. “I almost forgot, the other day when I was inside picking up the twins and Parker, I heard those freaky-ass, clone moms, talking shit about Bess. They were ripping apart the way she dresses, the bright colors in her hair, that she works at a bar, you name it. I don't know if you've noticed, because I certainly have, Bess has started dressing in a lot of brown, and her hair is missing a lot of extra color. There's no way she hasn't heard the shit they've been spewing. So, if there are some issues going on in your marriage right now, I would start with the bullshit these bitches have been spewing and not putting all of it on your shoulders. Wren thinks she’s having an identity crisis, and that Bess is afraid you’ll see her the same way those cunts do, but yeah, you do actually need to talk to your wife. Just don't walk away and say that shit out loud. Keep some of the inside thoughts from going outside okay?”

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