Page 5 of The C*ck Down the Block

“Oh. Shit.” The actual seriousness of this situation finally hit her.

“I know.” I slid the fashion magazines to the side and waited for her sage advice. Lulu always knew what to do.

“Wait. Why are you going to Manniway’s? You don’t eat meat.” Not helpful. I already knew that.

“Chris asked me.” No big deal. He asked me to do lots of stuff with him and the family. I was practically a Kingman. Like a cousin or something.

“Chris? As in Chris Kingman, quarterback of the Denver Mustangs, Denver Post’s most eligible bachelor, your ultra hot next door neighbor Chris, asked you out on a date?” The sound on her end went muffled like she was covering the receiver, and she might have squealed. “Finally. Thank the sweet baby Jesus you said yes. It’s about damn time.”

Lulu had been shipping me and Chris since high school. It was never going to happen. He wasn’t interested in me. Not like that. We were friends. Had been for a long time. I liked it that way. He was nice, safe, and an all-around good friend. “It’s not a date. It’s just Chris.”

“You been sniffing the children’s librarian’s glue supply?”

“Come on. I need real help here. I don’t want to look dumb.” That gave me mental flashbacks to high school, and the Queen Bees’ sing-songy cheerleader voice whirred in my head. I’d been teased for a lot of things back then, but it had helped me build up some good shame-proof body positive armor early in life thanks to my mother.

I knew my true worth wasn’t in what I looked like, and I needed to remember that right now. It would be fine. Whatever I chose to wear would be good enough. It wasn’t like this was... an awards show.

A gaggle of teenage girls walked up the stairs, startling me out of my brain freeze. “Gotta go, Lu. A bunch of teens are here.”

Jules Kingman led the pack over to my desk. I pulled out the snack box I kept in my desk for them. “Got the new Dragons Love Curves book in yet?”

“I heard this one is about the mysterious purple dragon.” I pushed the stack of newly added to the catalog books across the desk, and they were snatched up instantly. The girls headed over to the silent reading area and its mass of bean bags. I waved Jules over to me before she got far. “Hey, you know how the boys are all going to Manniway’s tonight?”

“Sure. Not that I get to go. Twenty-one and up only.” She sighed, rolled her eyes, and crossed her arms as only a put-upon teen could do.

“Uh, sorry if that’s a sore spot. But Chris asked me to go too, and I have no idea what to wear. Any ideas?”

She went from sullen teen to sparkling in a hot second, then back to cool and apathetic like she’d been caught being excited about something she didn’t want anyone to know about. “Oh, uh, yeah. Like, anything navy and cream. Wear that navy blue high-low maxi you had on for the college application thing we did right at the end of the school year. That was classy. But not with a sweater. Just some jewelry.”

Huh. Yeah. That would work. I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought of it. I did look good in that dress, and it wasn’t fancy, but it wasn’t casual either. Without a cardigan to cover up the top, it showed off my girls a bit more than was appropriate for the library but would be perfect for a fancy restaurant opening. It was exactly right for tonight. “It’s not too, you know, librarian-ish?”

“It is, but hot, sexy librarian. Chris will go all ga-ga for it.” She made a face and walked away before I could say that’s not what I was going for.

“Don’t ship me and your brother,” I half shouted after her.

“Too late,” she yelled back over her shoulder.

Teenagers and their over romanticized hormones. I knew better.

JUST FRIENDS

CHRIS

You would think I’d never been on a date before in my entire fucking life. My hands were sweating so much I couldn’t even hold onto my thinking football. I tossed it around when I needed to occupy my body and let my mind just do its thing. The ball just bounced off the couch and knocked over a lamp, and all I’d done was pick it up off the floor for the third time.

This wasn’t even a real date. It wasn’t exactly a fake one either. I was dressed in my game day suit and tie, ready for this grand opening thing, and I had a hard-on and a half imagining what Trixie would wear.

I’d dragged her to a family events before, but nothing like this. Most of what I invited her to was casual. Jeans and jerseys, burgers and fries. Not suits and ties, definitely not dresses and heels.

This felt like a fucking date.

It wasn’t and my mind and body needed to calm the fuck down.

Should I have gotten her flowers?

“What the hell is up with you?” Everett leaned against my fridge, drinking a Fat Tire. There were only a couple left in my summer stash anyway. He might as well drink them. With training camp starting in a few weeks, my alcohol consumption would go from one or two drinks a week to none.

Everett could use and abuse his body and still play ball just as well the next day. I couldn’t, and he knew it.

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