Page 8 of Playboy

Not that I’m bothered by his player status. I like a man who knows what he’s doing, and like they say, practice makes perfect.

Not that I’d ever go near him. There was a time when I had the tiniest crush on the guy.

But sex with the brother of one of my besties would be complicated, and one thing I don’t do is complicated.

“He finally got bedazzled!” Sara does jazz hands to celebrate.

The table erupts in laughter.

Everyone except Millie, whose face is twisted in disgust. “Ew. Why?”

“Why does he want to get pierced?” I lean forward, brows raised, and hold up a finger so I can count off the many reasons he may have chosen this path for himself. “For one, it’s hot. Two, it’s hot. Three, have I mentioned before, it’s fucking hot?”

Lennox and Sara both nod obnoxiously in agreement. When Millie sees Ava biting back a smile, she points at her. “You too?”

Our sweet, reserved friend holds up her hand. “What can I say? It feels fantastic.”

Millie’s head falls back. “Gah, even she gets to ride a piercing.”

A bark of a laugh escapes me. “She married Tyler Warren. Was there ever any real question that he was pierced?”

Arms folded, Millie huffs. “I guess not.”

Sara presses her tongue to the inside of her cheek. “You’re just jealous because yours is the only Langfield who didn’t get pierced.”

“Please, there is no way that Beckett Langfield is pierced.”

“I have a rule!” Ava yells in a voice louder than I thought she was capable.

We all spin in her direction.

“We don’t talk about Beckett’s dick. He’s just…I like him as a person and I don’t want to think of him sexually.”

Millie throws up her hands. “That’s what I’m saying!”

“Bet you he has a really dirty mouth,” Lennox mutters.

“He’s a Langfield. Of course he does,” Sara muses.

Ava glares at them both, and they hold up their drinks in defeat.

“Fine,” Sara says. “No talking about Beckett’s dick. But Daniel’s?”

Millie scowls. “You are dead to me.”

“No, I’m your favorite sister-in-law.”

“Hey!” Lennox whines.

I roll my eyes. They’re always like this. “Who’s getting Danny Boy on the phone? I’m curious about what kind he got.”

“Don’t look at me.” Millie holds up her hands.

She’s taking this way too seriously. What’s a little dick piercing? Well, okay, hopefully there’s nothing little about it. I’d like to imagine that Hall is well endowed. Not that it matters. Like I said, not going near that complication.

“I’ll call him,” Sara offers, no shame in her game.

When the sound of the FaceTime request ricochets off the walls of the restaurant, a couple from one table over glares in our direction. Sara doesn’t bat an eye. She just lowers the sound and smiles.

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