Page 11 of All Twisted Up
“You—I—? Highlights?”
“Yeah, and—” I twisted on the couch to look down at his clothes before shaking my head. I plucked at the oversized white tee he wore. “And what’s with the T-shirt? I mean it’s like three sizes too big for you. Is that a 3X or something?” I chuckled again.
“No—I—”
“Yeah.” I reached for both sides and pulled it wide. “Look! It’s way too big.” His mouth opened and closed soundlessly, but I ignored him, hopping off the couch and gesturing at him. “Stand up.”
He stayed right where he was.
“Well…hurry up! Let me look at those pants.”
He frowned, looking down, but did as I asked.
I reached out and lifted his T-shirt, totally ignoring the gun tucked into the front as I quietly shuddered. I tsked, taking hold of the gun. “This won’t do at all.”
He grabbed my wrist, frowning at me. “No!”
I instantly let go and waved at him. “Fine. Fine. You do it. Put that thing on the table. I want to check the fit of these—” I pointed at his drooping khakis, visibly scrunching up my nose. “Horrible excuse for pants.” When he just stared at me, I waved again. “Come on, Chico. Get a move on. I can’t show you what I’m talking about when you’re holding…that.”
I held my breath. Miraculously, he did as I asked, pulling the gun from his waistband and setting it down on the table. I marveled, kind of surprised all these guys didn’t shoot their dicks off. One sneeze and I’d have had a higher voice.
He stood in front of me and pulled up his tee so I could resume looking at his pants. I tsked again, shaking my head as I cocked it to the side and chuckled. I reached for both sides of hiswaistband and hiked the pants up where they should be and then held the waistband out, leaving a one-inch gap on each side.
“See? These don’t fit either. You definitely need atotalmakeover, Chico.” I let go of his pants and stepped back. “I can help you if you let me.”
He frowned for a minute and then smiled, reaching for me. He pulled me back to the couch, sitting us both down. “You know, I think you’re one of those guys from that Queer show,” he said, honestly.
“Queer Eye?”I grinned then let out a high-pitched laugh, clasping both hands over my heart. “Do you watch it? Don’t you just love Jonathan? He does hair you know. That’s what I’m talking about. Highlights. That’s all you need, Chico…well—” I leaned in looking closely at his face. “Okay, maybe you need someone to attack those brows with a hedge trimmer.”
He stared at me for a few seconds before doubling over in laughter.
Charmed and disarmed and he hadn’t even realized it. My sister, Barbie, would have been proud.
Chapter Three
NASH
Back at the BearCat, the boss passed out assignments while the DEA geared up beside us. They headed out first since they had a ten-story climb.
I watched them jog away from the vehicles and then turned to my best friend who was pointedly ignoring me. I had to talk to him, but now was the wrong time. Silently, Mickey and I retrieved our rappelling gear from the truck and stepped aside so the others could gather what they needed. I was now convinced Mickey and I were being sent to the roof as punishment. Me for showing up at yesterday’s briefing with a hangover—and Mickey for not stopping me from overindulging at the club.
Yeah, I was an idiot, and Mickey still wasn’t talking to me. Still, I hated the tension between us, so once we’d gathered what we needed, I pulled him aside.
“How long are you going to stay mad at me?”
He gave me a sideways glance. “As long as I want to.”
I grabbed his sleeve and walked around to face him when he refused to look at me. “We can’t go into an op like this. We need to be able to talk.” He glanced up, meeting my eyes. “I’m sorry, Mickey. I shouldn’t have done that. I shouldn’t have ditched you and gone with those two idiots, and I shouldn’t have treated my best friend like a casual acquaintance. I value you much more than that. It was a crappy thing to do to you.”
He practically growled at me, obviously still mad. “I shouldn’t be angry. You’re a selfish person, Nash, and I should know better. You told me yourself. You were there to get laid, and you accomplished it. Why should you care that you left me holding your beer to do just that the minute you had the chance?” He shook his head. “I don’t want to talk about it anymore.”
“Mickey—” I pleaded. “I’m sorry. Please…let’s talk about this.”
“Not now, Nash! We’ve got a job to do.” He turned and walked away, joining the others as I called after him.
“Mickey!”
He totally ignored me even as a few of the others looked over. I stepped into my harness and grabbed the Heckler & Koch MP5 Patsy handed me. “Thanks, buddy.”
