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Buck, how could I forget? Rhymes with fuck, which is what I say to myself every time this dude shows up at one of our parties.
Pip snickers. “That’s insulting to raccoons.”
“Chill, E.” Buck raises and lowers his hands in a calm down gesture that’s bound to infuriate Eraser even more.
“Don’t tell me to chill,” Eraser grumbles. “Pull up your pants. You look like you escaped the circus.”
I sigh and take another bite of my burger. Maybe I should move to a different table.
Molly returns and sets a huge square piece of yellow cake with cherry-red filling and white frosting in front of me. “It’s vanilla frosting and cherry filling.” She beams, clearly pleased Remy chose the right cake.
I tip my head back and grin at her. “Thanks, Muffin.”
Buck busts up laughing across from me and elbows Spoons who’s cackling like a rabid hyena. I glare at them until they both shut the fuck up.
Molly’s gaze flicks from me to the guys. I shrug slightly. Who knows what those jackasses are laughing about. I pat the spot she’d been sitting in earlier. “Sit with me, birthday girl. You barely touched your burger.”
“I forgot napkins.” She squeezes my shoulder. “Want anything else?”
She’s standing so close, I “accidentally” brush my knuckles against her leg. A faint scent of vanilla teases my nose again. The cake on the table isn’t the one I want to get my mouth on.
Eraser narrows his eyes and stares at Torch for a second. “You good, cuz?”
“I’m fine.”
Eraser slaps my shoulder and pulls himself off the bench. “I’ll be right back.”
Molly follows him over to the table where all the supplies are.
“Yo, yo, Griff?” Buck waves one of his hands in front of my face. “You call her Muffin?”
Spoons ducks his head and coughs into his elbow, but it sounds a lot more like a laugh.
“Don’t worry about what I call my girlfriend,” I warn.
“Muffin?” Buck brings two fingers in a V shape to his lips and wiggles his tongue between them. “As in, you go muffin diving?” He grins and laughs like he’s some sort of genius.
“What?” I stare at him in confusion then frown. “No. Shut the fuck up.”
“Seriously…” Buck reaches around Spoons to tap Torch’s shoulder. “He butters her muffin gooood.”
“Bro, I’d stop if I were you,” Torch warns.
“Take his advice.” I growl. Under the table, my hands curl into fists. I really don’t want to start a fight at Molly’s birthday party. Maybe I can get Eraser to sign Buck up for a fight at The Castle next weekend. There’s gotta be half a dozen guys eager to knock him around the cage for a few rounds.
“You’re the one who calls her Muffin,” Spoons says to me. “What’re you gettin’ so pissed about?”
Buck shifts his gaze toward Molly. “I’d lick her muffin?—”
Blind rage seizes me from the inside out.
I jump out of my seat, shaking the entire table, and reach over the wide, wooden surface, then hook my fingers into the neck of Buck’s shirt. I yank hard until he’s balanced on my arm, hanging in the air, caught between the bench and tabletop.
I press my face close to his. “Wanna say that again?”
“Dude, chill, chill!” Buck flails his arms in the air. His sneakers thud against the underside of the bench as he tries to free his bottom half. “Muffin’s slang for pussy,” he hisses. “How do you not know that?”
Horror washes over me.
