And the tingles just kept coming.
“I’m very disappointed in you.” Becca pointed her cheese-laden pizza at Max. “I mean, what kind of father are you going to be if you just lead everyone astray?”
Reid choked on his swallow, while Colt stared straight at Becca and said clear as day, “Take it back!”
“Take what back?” Becca grabbed her water with one hand then placed her other hand on her flat stomach. “Are you still drunk?”
Reid gasped.
And Jason made a cross motion, muttering, “God save us — or it.”
“You’re pregnant?” Milo gasped, then pulled Becca into her arms.
“Yes!” Becca started to tear up while Jordan — who I assumed belonged to Reid, since the other two were taken — gave him a sly smile and winked.
Okay…
“You too?” I blurted out toward Jordan.
Max took a look at his brother, shrugged, and said, “Those Emory swimmers work fast.”
Milo gagged.
Colt patted her on the back soothingly, as if he, too, understood the visual depravity it gave.
“What?” Max shrugged. “It’s true. I bet mine even beat Reid’s. If there was a race between my sperm and his, his would just give up and die while mine would hit—” He slammed his hands together. “—home—” Another slam. “—every—” Slam. “—damn—” Slam. “—time.”
Jason moved his hand from my thigh and covered my eyes. “I’m sorry you had to witness that.”
Everyone burst out laughing while I tugged his hand down and smirked.
Max just shrugged and said, “Slam,” again, earning a few tossed napkins in his direction and a full water bottle from Reid.
Nice.
“You’re full of shit,” Reid sneered. “But also, congrats. That’s awesome, man.”
“Thanks, bro.” Max grinned. “You too.”
“Aw, guys…” Becca wiped under her eyes, “…I love it when you get al—”
World peace between Max and Reid had lasted about five seconds, and then suddenly, the earlier thrown water bottle was chucked back toward Reid’s head by Max.
He dodged it, and it went soaring…
Into Jason’s face.
The plastic bottle slammed into his perfect nose and then sprayed all over the table.
“Son of a bitch!” he roared, as blood ran out of his nose. “Seriously, guys? Can we not have at least one normal meal where someone’s not trying to kill me?”
Max reached across the table to grab him napkins but, no doubt because of his drunken state, instead knocked over my Diet Coke and created a brown trail of bubbly, all the way to Jason’s crotch.
Jason didn’t retaliate, or even make a noise, just sat there and stared daggers at the man responsible for it, as the entire thing emptied on the front of his shorts and blood trickled from his chin.
Becca jerked Max back while I grabbed the napkins and held them out to Jason, his eyes still on Max as he took them and patted his chin.
“You missed a little.” Max pointed, but Becca slapped his hand down.