That Secret Crush (Getting Lucky #3)(50)

“And then I whip out my dick for a handshake, or dickshake, if I may.”

“You may not.” I chuckle. “Your dick is not for handshakes; it’s for me only. And why did I think of a milkshake when you said dickshake?”

“Because my dick has deposited some pretty impressive milkshakes inside of you.”

“Ew! Reid. What the hell is wrong with you?” He’s laughing so hard I don’t think he can hear me. “Don’t ever say that again.”

“Are you complaining about my milkshakes?” he chokes out, still laughing.

“And we’re done. Have a good night.” I hang up before he can talk about his “milkshakes” any longer.

Seriously, men are so disgusting.

I’m about to toss my phone to the side when it starts ringing again, Reid’s name lighting up the screen.

“What do you want?” I answer, a smile creeping across my face.

“Hey, you’re using too much salt right now; tone it down.”

“You called back to lecture me?”

“No. I called back to say I miss you.”

Well . . . damn it.

“Don’t say shit like that when I’m trying to be annoyed at you.”

“I wish you were in my arms right now with my lips pressed against your sweet neck.”

I nibble on my bottom lip, practically feeling his lips on me. “Stop it. You were just talking about dickshakes.”

“I wish I could taste your lips right about now, the sweetest pair I’ve ever kissed.”

“Laying it on thick.”

“You want something thick?”

Poof, the romance is gone.

“Oh my God, Reid! Seriously, you need help.”

“I wasn’t talking about my dick, Eve.”

I roll my eyes, shifting in the tub. “Sure, okay, then. What were you talking about?”

“My thumb. Want to sit on it?”

“Night,” I groan, then hang up again.

Seriously, he’s absolutely impossible. I haven’t had any intimate conversations with the other Knightly boys, but I would bet on Reid’s “thick thumb” that he’s the most pervy of them all.

And for some reason, some sick and demented reason, I like it. Maybe that makes me a little pervy too.

My phone rings again, and of course I answer it. “This better be good.”

“Just wanted to tell you good night properly. I miss you, Eve.”

I sigh, dropping my fake annoyance. “I miss you too, Reid.”

“I’ll be back soon. Can’t wait to have you in my arms again.”

“I can’t wait either; it’s my favorite place to be. Good night.”

“Good night, beautiful.”

I hang up and stare down at the dissipating bubbles of my bath. Everything is going to be okay. If I learned anything out of that phone conversation, besides confirming just how perverted Reid is, it’s that we’re going to be okay.





CHAPTER FIFTEEN





REID


“Are you nervous? I’m nervous. My legs are shaking. It’s like long-lost lovers being reunited.”

“Can you shut the fuck up? Christ, man.”

Why I brought Brig with me to talk to Eric I have no idea. I was having a weak moment, and after he asked to come for the tenth time, I finally gave in.

The drive to Boston is only about four and a half hours, so I could have easily done it myself, but the thought of having company was appealing at the time. Now I’m wishing I was alone.

Although I have to admit, all the sightseeing we did yesterday was kind of fun. Instead of jumping right into bombarding Eric, we decided to take a day and walk around Boston. I showed Brig all my old stomping grounds and brought him to some of my favorite pubs, and then we spent the night in a fancy-as-shit hotel because Brig “has standards.” Though those standards somehow involve sharing a king-size bed.

And I’m fucking tired this morning because he gabbed the entire night like we were two tweens at a slumber party. He kept telling me about this girl who he thinks is the one. Cue the eye roll. That’s what he says about every girl. But I know for sure she isn’t the one because she was a random woman we saw passing by on one of those drink-and-bike tours. He didn’t even talk to her—just glimpsed her for about a half second. He said if they were meant to be, the universe would pull them together again.

I think at this point everyone in the family hopes Brig finds someone to spoil and fawn over—and soon. Because his tireless pursuit of love is starting to drive everyone crazy. Myself included.

Maybe if he stopped trying so hard, it would just fall in his lap. But I know better than to tell the lovesick puppy that.

“I’m going to act like you’re not really angry with me but just lashing out from nerves. Do you want to talk about it?”

“No, I want you to stop talking.”

“I understand you’re getting anxious about seeing Eric again, but that doesn’t mean you need to pick fights with me. I’m not going anywhere, bro. I’m here for you, no matter how hard you try to push me away.”

Jesus. Christ.

I reach into my pocket, pull out my wallet, and, just like when we were kids and I wanted him out of the way, take out a twenty and hand it over. But he doesn’t bite. No, he just stares at it and then back up at me.