Page 116 of Coach
“Did the sexy woodsman chop your tree?” Sisi asked before the waitress got away, earning an ear-to-ear grin from the older woman who, for a heartbeat, looked as though she might pull up a chair just to listen.
I dropped my face into my hands. “I hate both of you.”
Mike leaned in. “Come on. You know we’ve been waiting for this. Throw us a bone.”
“I think Shane already did that,” Sisi offered.
Mike choked laughing.
Then Sisi’s laser beams homed in tighter. I swear I could hear a mechanical cockpit voice screaming, “Collision! Collision! Collision! Pull up! Pull up! Pull up!”
Sisi fanned herself. “A strong, silent,nakedwoodworker, and our poor Mateo is smitten.”
“I amnot—”
She waggled her eyebrows. “You let him carry you to bed, didn’t you?”
“Can Ipleasejust tell you what happened before you pick me to death?” I groaned, swiping a hand down my face.
Sisi leaned back, smirking. “Fine. But know that I am pouncing the second you finish.”
Mike crossed his arms. “Proceed, Counselor.”
I huffed. “Okay. So, after . . .everything—”
“Ravishment,” Sisi whispered.
Mike snorted into his drink.
I clamped my lips shut and glared.
Sisi relented, waving a hand toward me. “Proceed. We will return to the ravishment later.”
I blew out a breath. There was no avoiding this, any of it. I needed to place my head on the block and let the axman do his thing . . . orherthing, in this case.
“After we did it twice, I slept in his arms. This morning, we woke up, and he, well, he”—I fumbled for words—“looks at me—like,reallylooks at me, with that intense stare of his—and says all sorts of nice things about him thinking about me all the time and wanting do more sex in more ways and, shit . . . Then he adds, ‘Will you date me?’”
I let the words hang for a second, heart kicking a little even in retelling it.
“Whoa. That’s . . . direct.” Mike’s eyebrows shot up. “It sounded more like a proposal than—”
“Exactly!” I said a little too loudly. Lowering my voice and leaning forward, I added, “Then he asked me to pass the syrup as though he hadn’t just dropped a date-bomb at the table. It was so bizarre.”
Sisi nodded. “At what point did he offer you a handcrafted ring of oak and maple to seal the deal?”
“And was it a cock ring?” Mike chirped. “Everyman needs a fashionable cock ring for his engagement. It’s gay law.”
The waitress chose that moment to appear, nearly tossing her tray as she laughed along with myformerfriends.
“Stop,” I groaned, burying my face again as they cracked up.
Mike wiped his eyes. “I mean . . . we’re happy for you. Seriously, but also—how the hell do you plan to figure out what he’s thinking? The man communicates in grunts.”
“That is my problem,” I said, voice muffled by the table. “I have no idea what happens next.”
“Don’t worry. We’ll help translate.” Sisi patted my arm. “You feed him carbs, compliment his shelves, and when in doubt—just lay back, relax your hole, and let him drill, baby, drill.”
“Sisi!”
