Page 3 of Inspiring Dominic

“Sounds just like sis.”

I’d met Alex years ago through Owen, and instantly, it felt like we’d known each other for years. When I heard that him and Mac were together, I was the only one in the crew who had called that relationship a mile away. Even before they met, I got a sense that the two of them were perfect for each other. Alex needed a woman who would understand his struggle and love the man he is, while Mac needed a man who would appreciate her feistiness and not try and change her. They may seem as different as rum and Coke, but when placed together, they just fit.

“Have you seen my mom?” I asked Johan, the one who I was the closest to out of the guys. “She asked me about you earlier.”

He nodded. “You know I had to see my second mom. It was hard to find her after the service though. I don’t think I’ve ever been to a funeral this large before.”

“Exactly,” my guy Wesley cosigned. “So how is it that this town is packed with people and I still don’t see many single women?”

Johan and I met Wes back when we were all in college, and for as long as we’d known this dude, he’d always been a self-proclaimed ladies’ man. Meaning, even though he always claimed to get hella women, I’d seen him get shut down more times than I could count.

Johan had always been closer to him since they grew up together and he often kept him in check. For a while after college, we didn’t keep in contact. However, when he moved a couple hours away to Charleston, South Carolina, we started hanging out again.

Alex nudged Wes in the arm. “Bruh, have some respect. We’re at Mr. Prescott’s funeral for Christ’s sake.”

Wes smacked his lips. “Don’t act like you ain’t never tried to get some pussy at a funeral before.”

Johan dropped his head, shaking it, at the same time that I asked him, “Do you think about the shit you say before you say it?”

“And did you forget Alex was celibate before he met Mac?” Owen asked

Wes shrugged. “Whatever. Y’all know what I mean. Dom, you tryin’ to tell me that you ain’t think about pulling that sympathy card on a few of the women here?”

“No, I didn’t,” I admitted. “Not everybody thinks about sex as much as you do.”

Wes snorted. “Man, maybe if you did, you wouldn’t be wound up so tight.”

“I got a lot of shit on my mind,” I defended. “Besides, sex won’t help ease the tension of how life-changing Granddad passing will be on my entire family.” Out of instinct, I glanced to the others for backup, but was met with each of them faking distraction.

“Y’all not gonna back me up on this?”

Alex shook his head. “You mean with sex not easing tension? Bruh, sex is the only thing that helps Mac and I overcome stress sometimes.”

“Same for me and Ava,” Owen agreed, although I kind of blocked out his response since he was married to my sister.

Johan took a sip of his drink before adding, “I can’t ever imagine sex not easing tension.”

“You know the only kind of guys that say shit like that?” Wes asked. “Muthafuckas who’ve forgotten what being inside of great pussy feels like.”

I disguised my cringe by chugging the rest of my drink, not even wanting to think about the last time I fucked a woman. And not just some quickie shit if we’re both backed up. But an intimate connection in mind, body, and soul.

I’d never been a one-night stand kind of guy, but I’d had a couple regulars over the years to pass the time. Besides Johan and Wes—and my brothers, but they were a different story—I didn’t have any single friends. Everyone I knew was already married, some married and already divorced, and those who hadn’t done either yet had kids. For me, I had family obligations and responsibilities which all boiled down to my life being boring as hell.

“All I know is, y’all better slap me if I start to forget what it’s like being with a woman,” Wes announced. “Real talk, don’t let me be walking around Charleston with my dick hanging out begging for any woman who’s willing to give me a chance.”

“How is that different than your regular MO?” Johan teased, causing all us to laugh except for Wes.

He opened his mouth to retort, but was cut off.

“Wes, baby, is this charade over?”

I lifted a curious eyebrow, as did the others, when a woman approached and placed her hand on Wes’ arm.

“Baby, I thought I told you I’d get you when it’s time,” Wes said, pulling her to him.

“But I don’t know anyone.” The woman pouted, giving Wes sad puppy-dog eyes.

Sighing, Wes disclosed, “Okay, I guess the gig is up, fellas. I have a confession to make.” He lifted the woman’s hand. “This is my beautiful fiancée, Denise, and we’re getting married in six months.”

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