“That so?” Gary managed to say. “How do you figure?”
“Just seems like it, I guess.”
“Plans, have you?”
“So many plans.”
“Rimming plans.”
“Why the fuck not?”
He sighed. “I remember when you were a prude. My little boy who got flustered even saying the word sex is now talking about rimming. Kids. You grow up so fast. Pretty soon you’ll be getting fisted and I won’t know where the time has gone.”
“I was never a prude,” I said. “I’m just not as sexually liberated as you. Especially with fisting. I can’t honestly think of a time in my life where I’d find that to be a good idea.”
“What rimming?” Tiggy asked.
“Butt stuff,” Gary said.
“Seriously,” Ryan groaned. “You guys.”
“It is,” Gary said. “Didn’t you know that?”
And before I could start to think about Ryan and rimming, I said, “It doesn’t even matter. It’s a beautiful day. We are alive and healthy and not in any peril and we’re on our way to save the day!”
“I think he’s broken,” Gary said to Tiggy. Then he looked over at Ryan. “You broke our best friend.”
“Me? What did I do?”
“Everything,” Tiggy rumbled. “Sam broken. I smash Knight Delicious Face?”
“Maybe,” Gary said.
“No smashing,” Ryan said. “And can we please talk about Knight Delicious Face? What the hell does that mean?”
“Don’t even care about what’s going on around me,” I said, trying to maintain my cheer and most certainly not completely focusing on the alliteration that is really rimming Ryan. “Doesn’t matter to me at all. Wesley York IV has a date with my asshole.”
“Who the fuck is Wesley?” Ryan growled.
“Your asshole?” Gary choked. “You just made everything hurt.”
“Smash so good,” Tiggy said, curling his fists.
And, of course, that’s when a tree at the edge of the Dark Woods burst into flames, the fire green and orange with shots of blue running through it.
We all froze.
“No,” I muttered. “I am having a good day and this is not part of having a good day. Sloan Fontaine will bring me great ass pleasure and I won’t even know what hit me.”
“Are you a secret slut?” Gary asked. “Do you covertly have all the mens? Who is Sloan and why don’t I know him?”
“Sloan Fontaine,” Ryan scoffed. “Sounds weak. I bet I could take him in a fight. Probably doesn’t even work out or anything. I work out. Like, a lot.”
“I don’t even work out,” I said, trying to figure out why I was defending two people who were imaginary and most definitely not going to rim me.
“Smash smash smash,” Tiggy muttered.
&