Page 37 of Bleeding Hearts

“Don’t change the subject.” Cora swats at my hand and places hers on her hips. “Explain.”

Walking around her, I toss the cards in one at a time, while I give her the briefest of all explanations. “It’s not a big deal. Bethany and I had a date. Susanne did what she always does. That’s it.”

“Hold up!” Rylee emits a high-pitched shriek. “You fucked Bethany? Your neighbor? The neighbor across the street who put a snowman blowup in her yard immediately after Halloween, done in response to your complaint about her putting up Christmas decorations before Thanksgiving and leaving them up to piss you off? Your sexy neighbor who wears those wraparound skirts and tight tank tops with no bra when working outside in her yard on sweltering summer days? Her? The psychologist?”

Tossing the rest of the cards in the flames, I turn and glare at Rylee. “How do you know all that?”

“Who do you think gave her the idea for the snowman?” My sister’s best friend snickers when I grunt. “Oh, come on. You make it so easy to rile you up. I like her. She seems like a lot of fun. I’m actually enrolled in one of her classes this semester.”

“I thought you were a criminal justice major.”

Just like Cora, Rylee dove headfirst into the work world after graduating high school. She didn’t have a lot of options beingraised in the foster care system. At eighteen, with high school still to complete, she came to live with us, having nowhere else to go. Her foster family kicked her out on her birthday, and Cora dragged her to our house. The idea of leaving her to fend for herself, destined for failure and a life on the streets, didn’t sit well with me. So, we made a deal. She would keep her part-time job at the grocery store to help pay for food and finish high school, and I allowed her to stay as long as she took it seriously. We had some bumps, but it worked out and she graduated with decent grades and a plan. Her job at the 9-1-1 call center allows her to earn her associate’s degree while working nights. She’s been steadily working toward a criminal justice degree from Georgia Southern University, utilizing financial aid and scholarships.

“It is. But I decided a minor in mental health would be helpful. You know my plan is to work with domestic violence victims and children of domestic violence. After working at the center and seeing how many of them have mental health issues, I thought it would be useful. Can’t hurt.” Rylee walks over to the box and starts moving things around. “I like her. She’ll be good for you. And since she’s older, you’ll avoid the young-woman drama. No games. She knows what she wants, how she wants it, without the melodrama someone our age would bring to the table.”

Cora takes a handful of cards and tosses them on the fire. “Maybe that’s what I need next time. An older man who already has his shit figured out and set in his ways. None of thisI need to go live my life and not feel tied down. He’ll be done living the free life and ready to chill out.”

“How much older?” Rylee wrinkles her nose in disgust. “I mean, you could go for a sugar daddy, but then you’d have to fuck a wrinkly old dick. I’ve seen a few old man dicks, and they aren’t pretty. Unless you’re into that, then go you. Though,someone in their mid-to-late thirties would probably make a good candidate. But then again, that’s about the age most suffer a midlife crisis, so maybe not.”

“Guys suck!” Cora grumbles as she tosses more cards on the fire. “Maybe I’ll stay single. Or become a lesbian. You’re single, Rylee. Wanna test the waters with me?”

“Not all guys suck.” I point to myself. “I’m a guy. I don’t suck.”

“Good point, Nolan. You’re a rare breed.” A quick grin is followed by a shake of her head. “But your sister is right, most guys do. At least the ones I’ve been around lately. And not like they suck my clit. I swear most don’t even know where that this. It’s so sad.”

“Ain’t that the truth!” With a grunt, Cora lifts the box and dumps its entire contents onto the fire. “Men are selfish assholes who think with the fucking tiny brain between their legs. And that little thing only cares about one thing, blowing its load. And once that happens, they no longer have a damn brain. After I get back, I’m switching teams. No more sorry dicks.”

Rylee draws Cora in, tucking her securely against her side with a comforting arm. “It can’t be any worse, right? I mean, most lesbians use strap-ons that are huge and meant to ruin your pussy. I think I’d be down with that.”

The jokes kept coming, and I fight hard to contain my laughter, but that last one is too much—I double over, tears streaming down my face. “I swear, you two are crazy. Don’t switch teams unless that’s what you really want. Maybe date better men. Have a test you give them. Ask them up front where the fuck is my clit and demand a demonstration on how he stimulates it. If the guy runs, he ain’t for you. A real man would gladly show you he knows where it is and give you a sampling of how he’d rock your world.”

“Is that what you did with Bethany?” Rylee bats her eyes flirtatiously. “Is that how you got the hickey? She got excited and gave you a demonstration of her own?”

“I don’t kiss and tell.” My stomach growls and I rub it. “Are you staying for burgers?”

“Bet your ass I am.” Rylee leans into Cora. “You’re better off without him. I have faith there’s a man out there who’s fifty times better than limp dick. You still going on this trip?”

“Yep. I need time away. You could come with, you know. We could pretend to be honeymooning together.” Cora laughs at Rylee, who’s shaking her head no. “I’m not good enough for you, either?”

“It’s not that. You’re amazing. But I don’t think either of us would be happy. As much as we hate men, we love dick. So maybe you take a break from it for now and after you get back, we see what we can find.” Rylee releases Cora and runs for the house. “I need to pee.”

As soon as she’s gone, I walk up to my sister and step up behind her. “Rylee and I don’t always agree, but this time she’s right. Don’t you dare tell her I said that.”

“Mum’s the word.” Cora snickers as she pretends to toss a key away. “I’m glad you’re getting back out there again. So how did you get the hickey?”

“You really don’t wanna know. All I’ll say is that unlike the limp dicks you’ve dated, I know where the clit is.” I kiss the top of her head and turn around to go make the burgers.

I got it because I showcased my expertise in pleasuring her clit to the point where the only way she could stifle her noises was by biting me. And the reason I needed her to be quiet was because her boys returned early, and I was helping her clean up in the shower before going home to tuck the girls in bed. But that’s for me to know and not something I’d freely share with anyone else.

Cora makes a gagging noise. “I did not need to know that. Gross. I mean good for her, but yuck. Please never say anything like that ever again or I’ll have Rylee share a few?—”

“Scout’s honor.” I hold up three fingers. “Now let’s make lunch. I’m starving. The fire should be about perfect by the time we come back. While we eat, you can remind me what I need to know next week when you’re gone.”

Chapter 19

Bethany

The sound of a woman raising hell across the street prompts me to step out of my house. It’s Susanne, and she sounds unhappy about what’s going on in Nolan’s driveway.