Page 166 of Sinful Like Us
Bodyguards shift, realization striking some.
“This meeting is about menstruation,” I announce.
Silence.
Dead.
Utter.Silence.
Concern is the prominent emotion from Omega’s corner. From Maximoff and my brothers as well.
Epsilon’s side is another story. O’Malley is leaning back in a rocking chair and suddenly enamored with the ceiling. And Tony looks far too amused.
Joana threads her arms. “Menstruation is aperiod.”
“Shark week,” Sulli adds, drawing a grin from all the girls, and she whispers to us, “It’s what my sister and I call it.”
Oscar bows forward on the couch. “We know what menstruation is, Jo.”
She nods to her twenty-one-year-old brother. “Quinn looked confused.”
His brows are rather scrunched.
Tony interjects, “Wait.” He licks his lips, a laugh on them, and he talks directly to me. “You came here to discuss being on the rag?”
I cringe.
On the ragmight be my all-time least favorite phrase, and before SFO, Maximoff, or my brothers jump down his throat, I answer quickly—and hotly, “Yes, we did, Tony, and we’ve called this meeting to let you all know that we’re running out of feminine products.”
Thatcher stares off a little, and I bet he’s mentally counting to determine my next period. He can easily keep track of my cycle since we have sex so often.
Quinn scratches his unshaven jaw. “Shouldn’t you have planned for that?”
We’ve discovered the source of his confusion, ladies and gentlemen.
“Like we all planned to be stuck in this house?” Joana says, hurt in her voice. “Like I planned to miss my fight in London?”
Quinn grimaces. “Sorry, Jo.” His apology to his little sister sounds sincere.
“We’ll fix this,” Oscar says to his sister. “What do you girls need?”
I interlace my fingers. “Well, this trip was supposed to beoneweek. And the only person who packed tampons was the girl who knew she’d have a period here. The rest of us brought one emergency item.”
I purposefully omit names. Even if Sulli wouldn’t mind, the men don’t need to know she started her period at the beginning of the trip.
I continue, “And since we’ve been in Scotland for almost three weeks, some of us are now having periods that we didn’t anticipate—”
“If I were a girl, I’d just bring a box of tampons everywhere with me.” Tony is the loudest, most obnoxious man I’ve ever had the misfortune of meeting. At least it feels this way stuck here with him. I’m sure once I return to strangers heckling me in Philly, I’ll feel differently.
Thatcher glowers at Tony. “Cut her off one more time, and—”
“And what?” He chuckles. “You’re gonna hit me again, Banks? Let’s do it. Right now—”
“Do you ever shut the fuck up?” Farrow glares.
Tony smiles more. “You think you’re such hot shit, Farrow, why don’t you go outside with me then? I’ll show you and Moretti who’s the better fighter.”
Farrow raises his brows. “You were literally knocked out unconscious seven days ago.”
