“Holy shit, Wes Hunter?” a voice behind me shouted. I quickly held my phone to my body.
I twisted my head around, and said, “Hi, how’s it going?” to the three guys standing behind me.
“Fucking hell, it is you!”
That started another twenty minute conversation with these guys about games I played years ago.
More selfies.
More praise.
They seemed like really great humans.
However, I wanted nothing more than to race upstairs to my wife.
We all got into the elevator, and when the older of the men bent down to tie his shoe, he dropped some papers from his hand.
I leaned over to help, and one by one, plop, plop, and plop—the three bottles of lube fell out of my pocket.
Son-of-a-bitch.
My hand dashed out to grab them, but instead I ended up dropping my phone.
My phone that I’d been video chatting on with my new wife.
My new, naked wife.
Of course, my phone landed screen up.
For everyone to see.
“Eek!” Marianne screeched loudly before the screen went black, and we heard a bunch of rustling around. “Weston Hunter, I’ll have your balls for that!”
Sonofabitch.
“I got it,” one of the younger guys said and picked it up for me.
He and his friend also picked up the escaped bottles for me.
I handed back the papers the older man had dropped.
My knee gave me a shot of pain as I stood.
“You’ve got a busy night ahead of you, I see,” the older man said, and we all laughed.
“Maybe not anymore,” I quipped, and that only made them laugh harder.
Christ.
Marianne better still be in the bed when I got up there.
Ten more minutes of goodbyes in the hallway later—I finally headed back to our room.
I barged in and panicked.
Marianne was not on the bed.
However, I did hear the shower on. Hopefully, she wasn’t getting ready to leave.