The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)(13)

Clearly I have no idea what I’m saying, and I’m in full-on panic mode now as Sam sits at the opposite end of the couch with his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands, rocking back and forth. The muffled sounds of a woman screaming, “Yes! Yes! Yes! Give me the elbow, too!” come from my phone wedged down in the couch, and if having my cold palms pressed against my vagina didn’t feel so f*cking good right now, I’d reach down there and turn the damn thing off.

“I’m just…I need…I don’t know…” Sam stutters.

I try to push myself up so I can scoot to his end of the couch and apologize for trying to fix things, but my vagina is angry and won’t let me move.

“Why do we even HAVE elbows?!” he shouts, his wide eyes looking everywhere but at me as he suddenly jumps up from the couch and stomps across the room.

“Where are you going?!” I yell to him as he disappears down the hallway. “Just give me a few minutes to recover and we can try again!”

If my vagina had a voice and hands, she’d most likely scream, “THE FUCK YOU SAY?” while smacking me across the face. I hear the door to the bathroom slam shut and the shower turn on and I ease myself back down on the couch, keeping my hands between my legs and my knees tucked up to my chest.

So, trying to keep Sam as calm as possible didn’t work. NOT having sex with him didn’t work, and forcing him to watch porn didn’t work. I am quickly running out of ideas that will keep his blood pressure down so maybe he can stop taking those pills and we can stop all of this insanity.

The only thing left at this point is to continue doing whatever I can to not stress him out. It didn’t work in the sex department, but hopefully it will work with the whole not having a heart attack and dying thing. We only have a few weeks left before the wedding and as much as I hate it, I’m just going to have to let everyone else handle things from here on out. I’ll focus on doing easy, peaceful things that have nothing to do with sex or wedding planning to avoid anxiety and undue strain on his poor heart that my family caused in the first place.

It’s fine. It’s totally fine. We can just wait until after the wedding to try again. At this point, my vagina might rip itself from my body and stab me if Sam and I attempt to have sex again, so it’s all good. I’ll be able to reassure my father that we’re waiting until the wedding night while keeping a straight face, and Sam won’t have an aneurism or take my father up on his suggestion of running. Everybody wins.

Especially my dead vagina, may she rest in peace.





Chapter 6




Chicks with Dicks

Sam




“I just need you to put your arm around me and smile. We don’t have to kiss or anything, just put on a good show. We need to start practicing so it’s believable the next time I see her.”

I shake my head at Alex as we stand by the bathrooms at Target and wait for Noel and Aunt Bobbie to finish returning a bunch of things Bev bought during her wedding shopping spree. Thankfully, Noel was able to convince her that seventy-five candles that smell like ocean mist were overkill and unnecessary for an outdoor wedding. I still have no idea why Alex felt the need to tag along, other than to annoy the hell out of me.

“How is pretending to be gay going to win Scheva back?” I ask in a low voice, glancing over at the customer service desk to see how much longer this is going to take. “I told you, she freaked out because you got all serious on her too quickly. You need to just back off a little, give her some space and then ease your way back in.”

He made me repeat exactly what Scheva said the other night all day at work for the last few days, coming up with one stupid plan after another to get her back, including sending her a bouquet of Vagisil boxes along with an apology card. I don’t know why I’m even shocked anymore at the things he says and does.

“I’m pretty sure I’m not going to take advice from a dude who has nightmares about elbows,” he laughs.

“It was horrifying! You have no idea the things I saw,” I argue, trying to block out the images from the video Noel played for me the other night after we had dinner with her parents.

Instead of sitting down and talking to my fiancée like a normal person, I ran away into the bathroom and took a cold shower to try and erase all that I saw from my mind. It didn’t work. I couldn’t close my eyes without seeing all of that disappearing elbow, and I didn’t sit down and talk about it with Noel because I honestly wasn’t sure if I’d be able to speak of it without throwing up.

She seems to be on the same page as me, both of us completely avoiding the subject ever since it happened. She also informed me that she was handing over all the wedding planning reigns to her family and that we had nothing to do for the next few weeks but relax. She’s really starting to worry me with all the “relaxing” talk and I’m beginning to think she really is freaking out about my dick malfunction. If she hadn’t asked me to drive her and Aunt Bobbie to Target to return the candles so her mother could use the money toward the wedding cake, I was almost on the verge of thinking Noel only told me she was handing everything over to them so she didn’t have to come right out and say she didn’t want to marry me. No matter how many orgasms I give her, it can’t erase this issue and it’s clearly made her lose her mind. More so than normal.