The Firework Exploded (The Holidays #3)(20)

Noel takes her time cleaning off my zombie cat wounds, pausing every few minutes to kiss me and tell me she loves me. At least one good thing came from the Turd Ferguson attack. She’s stopped obsessing about making sure I’m calm, she’s calm, and everyone around us is calm. After what just happened, I think she realizes all hope is lost where that shit is concerned. I’ll get this nonsense with Reggie over with as fast as I can, then take Noel home and finally tell her why I’ve been having problems in the bedroom.

Thankfully, there’s a light at the end of the tunnel. I know without a doubt that this medication will kick back in at any moment. At least that will be one less thing for her to worry about and we’ll have nothing left to do but look forward to our backyard, all-American, wedding, where hopefully Turd Ferguson doesn’t try to drag anyone back to hell with him.





Chapter 9




Drunk in Love

Noel


The last week flew by faster than I thought it would, each day becoming more and more hectic and not allowing any free time for Sam and I to talk. We’ve both been so busy that we barely have more than a few minutes alone together at the end of the day to kiss each other goodnight and pass out from exhaustion.

Sam’s been working a bunch of overtime so he’ll be able to take two weeks off for our honeymoon, and I’ve been doing my best to let my mother, Aunt Bobbie, and Scheva finish organizing everything for the wedding so Sam doesn’t worry about me freaking out. I’ve also been working a lot of long hours at my greeting card job, making sure I have plenty of new card samples available for when I’m out of the office at the wedding. After being unemployed from Christmas to Valentine’s Day, and that being one of the main reasons why I wouldn’t initially move in with Sam when he asked because I didn’t want to live with him if I couldn’t contribute, being offered a job at a place called Seduction and Snacks was like a dream come true. When the owners of the sex toy store, slash bakery read a few card samples I’d designed that my mother sent to them, they hired me on the spot and I’d never been happier. I got paid to design cards for the seduction side of the store, with insults and sarcastic comments I’ve used my entire life.

Sadly, the current designs I’ve been working on revolve around everything that’s been happening lately and they all suck. Since Sam won’t be home tonight because the guys decided to take him out for a small bachelor party celebration, I stopped by my parents’ house after I got out of work to help my mother put the wedding invitations together. While she gets everything set up on a picnic table outside, I’ve spent the last hour trying to squeeze in a few more greeting card ideas.

“Even if your penis is broken, I’ll still love you forever…because you protected me from a zombie cat,” Scheva reads out loud as she looks over my shoulder at my laptop screen.

“I’m sorry you’ll always hate Mister Ed…because Mister Ed actually means your dick is defunct.”

“Please don’t hate me because my family gave you high blood pressure…you should hate me because my coochie can’t bring you to completion.”

“I really want to have sex with you, but it always ends with one of us crying, because…elbow fisting.”

“Everything sucks, nothing is good, blah, blah, blah…f*ck you, f*ck your mother, and f*ck off.”

I sigh loudly when Scheva finishes.

“Well, that last one is certainly direct and to the point, but I have to say, the elbow fisting one might be your personal best.”

Slamming my head down on the dining room table, I thump it against the surface a few times before Scheva grabs a handful of my hair and yanks my head back up.

“Stop feeling sorry for yourself,” she scolds.

“How am I supposed to do that? Sam and I still haven’t had time to talk, and now I’m probably going to get fired because I can’t come up with a good card idea to save my life,” I complain.

“First of all, you’ve designed hundreds of cards since you started working there and they’re all amazing. As soon as you get your shit together, you’ll get your mojo back,” she tells me, pulling out the chair next to me and flopping down in it. “And second, you can’t get your shit together until you admit that you and Sam haven’t talked because neither one of you is making an effort, not because you haven’t had time.”

I open my mouth to argue and she holds up her hand to cut me off.

“Don’t even try to deny it. If you really wanted to talk to him and get to the bottom of everything, you’d make the time. The good news is, you both seem to be equally dysfunctional and are obviously a perfect match.” She smiles. “Just admit it that you’ve been too afraid to talk to him. You’re scared he’s going to confirm your stupid worries that he doesn’t want you anymore, your family is too insane for him, and that he’s been avoiding talking to you because he wants to call off the wedding.”

“I’ll admit to all of that if you admit that the reason you broke up with Alex is because you were scared,” I tell her, turning the focus on her so I don’t have to think about how stupid I’ve been acting and say out loud that she’s right.

“Fine. I admit it,” she replies easily, which makes my mouth drop open in shock.