Page 92 of West Bound

Wow. Cami wasn’t kidding. When you’re the one in a relationship, having your personal details shouted across a restaurant is quite humiliating.

“I…he…,” I stutter.

“He did. He so did,” Cat laughs. “Was it good? I’ve never had a guy do that to me. Kinda grosses me out, if I’m being honest. I mean, if it’s planned in advance, you have time to flush and clean and make sure your plate is sparkling. But a spontaneous ass eating…that could get tricky if you’ve had too much coffee or, God forbid, are bloated.”

“Eww,” Cami cringes.

“Okay, that’s enough of that. I’m refusing to answer that question on the grounds that this is just too gross for brunch. Dick, pussy…okay. Ass eating…that's a girls night discussion.”

The waitress choses that very moment to walk up to our table for our order.

“So sorry,” Camille apologizes. “Can we have one more minute?” The poor traumatized waitress nods and walks off.

“Okay, now that the poor girl’s ears are bleeding, can I ask my question?”

“Yes. Please proceed,” Cami rolls her hand for me to continue.

I huff and close my eyes. “I’m-thinking-of-asking-Phoenix-to-move-in-with-me,” I rush out.

I crack an eyelid and see three faces much like those monkey’s people have as tchotchkes on their bookshelves. CeCe has her head hanging and her hand covering her eyes like she has a headache. Cat’s mouth is hanging open wide enough that, well…Phoenix could probably fit his dick inside. And Cami is staring at me like I’ve dropped down from another planet.

“You’re…you’re serious?” Cami asks and I nod my head. “You know you can take it slow. You don’t have to jump from first kiss to living together all in one leap. There are several steps between the two.”

“I know. I mean, I don’t since I’ve never had a boyfriend before, but I know I don’t have to ask him to move in. But he lives in a hotel and spends pretty much every minute he’s not at the field or on the road at my place. And yes, we haven’t been together that long, but I feel like our relationship has been fast tracked because of the amount of time we spend together. At work, at home, on the road. It’s a lot and–”

“Slow down Rambling Rita and take a breath.” CeCe breathes in and out until I’m mimicking her and finally chill. “Okay, babe. Listen. Relationships are like buttholes; no two are the same. If you are ready to take the next step with Phoenix, then you take it. Just because Cam is giving poor Vaughan metaphorical blue balls by not moving in with him, doesn’t mean you have to move at a grandma driving to church on Sunday speed.”

“But what if he freaks out and says no? How embarrassing would that be.” My panic starts to rise and I can feel the color of my chest turning red and splotchy.

“Viv…the guy got a fucking tattoo of your ass on his chest. He’ll say yes.” Cat lifts her hand to get the waitresses attention. “Ask him to move in, eat ass, choke on a dick, and live happily ever after. Can we order now? I am so hungry.”

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is why my friends are the best of the best.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

PHOENIX

“Peaches & Cream” - 112

Vivian signs off from her broadcast after our interview, and the red light on the camera turns off.

“Good job, baby,” I tell her, with a kiss to the cheek and a hard slap on her ass that ends with a squeeze.

Her little body jolts and she practically falls right off her stool. I reach out to grab her and she steadies herself with a hand on my chest which she immediately pulls away like it’s been burnt by a fire.

“Oh gosh, I’m sorry. Did I hurt you? Is it okay?”

“Peaches, I’m fine. You didn’t hurt me. Relax.”

She’s been jittery and off all night. In between innings, I’d sit close by and share a piece of gum with her, but her banter was off. She’s usually so witty and quick on her comebacks, but she was definitely off her game. And now I’m worried there’s more to it.

“Okay. Good. It’s only been a few days and I don’t know how long it takes for tattoos to heal.” She steps down and now I’m looking down at the top of her head instead of looking down into her eyes.

“C’mere,” I tell her and pull her to me. “What’s going on? You seem like something’s bothering you. Are we okay?”

Yes, I sound like a needy bitch but maybe I am. It took me so long to break down her walls and get her to go from “I hate you” to “I love you”. I don’t want to imagine what it’ll feel like to have her pulling back now. I assume it would feel like having my heart cut out with a rusty spoon and emulsified until it’s goop.

A bit graphic, but totally necessary and accurate.

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