“You, Marshal Michaels, considered the possibility that you could be wrong? Wow.”
My expression turns sober. “I wasn’t, Sami. I knew that, but I didn’t want to be the one to tell you. I saw how controlling he was, and I didn’t want you to be put in a position where you had to choose. Maybe I didn’t just consider I could be wrong, I considered I could be right and it would cause problems between us. Fuck, I couldn’t bear to lose my best friend.”
She wraps her arms around my torso and lays her head against my chest. “I don’t know what I would have said. It would have hurt coming from you because you’re the one person I know has always told me the truth.”
I kiss the top of her head. “I’m sorry.”
“No. Seeing Jackson for the ass he is was something I had to do. I don’t even think you could have gotten through to me.”
“I’m still sorry, Sami. He should be fucking dust in your rearview mirror, not still causing you and your parents heartache.”
“He lies. He says what he thinks will help him.” She sighs. “Remember what he said about the honeymoon, in Mom and Dad’s kitchen?”
“France.”
Her head shakes. “It wasn’t true. He’d booked a week in New York.” She looks up at me. “I need ideas, Marsh. Come on, you and I defeated the stormtroopers every night before the sun set. We waged battles on our bicycles against make-believe bad guys.” Her emerald stare shines through her lashes. “This time the bad guy is real. He’s a prick with a tiny dick who thinks he has the power and that he’s better than everyone else. He’s taking his embarrassment at my canceling the wedding out on my parents.”
“It goes without saying that your parents aren’t paying that.”
“I’m sure that Jackson knows that legally, he doesn’t have a leg to stand on. I know him. He’s just trying to get in one last jab.”
“Tiny?” I ask.
Sami soft-punches my back. “Focus.”
“You saidtiny.”
“I thought we weren’t supposed to share details.”
“I don’t want details on what he did with it, but you could elaborate on your description. Mushroom head? Weird kink or bend? Go on.”
Shaking her head, she steps away. “I’m pretty sure that every man in the whole world will seem tiny from now on.”
Friends with benefits means we are willing to accept that our friend will most likely move on to someone else. However, as more seconds tick by, I’m having trouble accepting that fate. While I’m happy to be the new gold standard, I’m not a fan of any other dick—big or tiny—getting near Sami.
Not now.
Not ever.
“What, Marsh? No comeback about how I could add that testimonial to your website?”
“One thing at a time,” I say, reaching for her hand. “How do we stop tiny-dick?”
“I’ve been racking my brain ever since Mom gave me that paper. That’s why I called my always-and-forever partner in crime. I mean, if we could defeat make-believe bad guys on the daily, together we can come up with a plan.”
This is my Sami, the one who never gives up, who is always thinking. “Let’s go get some dinner and keep working on this.”
She looks down. “I’m not exactly dressed.”
As I scan from her head to her painted toenails, my grin broadens. It’s as my gaze lingers on her spectacular tits that her nipples harden, tenting the tank top.
“Jeez, Marsh, stop. You’re...” She didn’t finish the sentence.
“What? I’m just looking at you.”
“Yeah, but your eyes are all molten and simmering.”
“I don’t even know what that means.”