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“Did you take the stairs down on your own, Berk?”
“Naw. I took the stupid elevator so neither you nor Berlynn would get onto me. I remember what you said, Aris. I’m not allowed to use the staircase unless one of you is with me,” he says, sounding indignant.
“It’s just until you’ve graduated from physical therapy and the doc says you can do it on your own, Berk.”
“That’s gonna take forever. They said it could be anywhere from months to years, Aris. It’s not cool that you two jump on my dick whenever I try to be independent.”
“We don’t jump on your dick,” I counter. “Dude! That’s fucked up to say that shit when it comes to your sister and me.”
“That’s because you’d rather her be jumping on your dick,” he argues, giving me the side eye. I snap my mouth shut because Idon’t have any argument for that even if I don’t want to have this conversation with her brother and my best friend.
“Are we gonna work out or what?” I ask, redirecting our conversation.
“Depends,” he replies.
“On what, Berk?”
“On if I’ll be able to keep my balls attached to myself or if you’re going to emasculate me and drop them into my sister’s purse.”
Shocked, I twist my entire body around and stare at him in disbelief. His words have been more simplistic since we’ve reunited, and I’m astonished at hearing the word emasculate come from his lips. “What’s gotten into you? I have zero interest in playing with your nuts, you freak.”
“I’m a freak in the bed,” he says, doing what I think is supposed to be him swiveling his hips.
“Umm,” I stammer, wishing Berlynn was here to play middle man when it comes to him because as his bro, I’m not supposed to be the one who makes him feel like he’s doing anything wrong. Castrate him as he accused me of doing earlier. That’s her job as his sister. She’s usually the one to deal with shit when his words and actions are staggering. “How long has it been since you were… a freak in the bed, Berk?”
“Last Tuesday,” he answers nonchalantly. Slowly, with the use of a crutch I just noticed, he ambulates his way toward the weight bench.
“Okaaay. Where did this happen and who did it happen with?” I probe. “Please say that you remembered to wrap it up.” The lastthing he or Berlynn need is an unplanned pregnancy. Wouldn’t that just be the icing on the cake?
“Of course. There’s no loving without gloving,” he tells me as if I’m dumber than a box of rocks. “And it was with Janette.”
“And who’s Janette?” I inquisitively ask.
“She’s in the trials with me. She had a spine injury after falling off her bike,” he answers. “She’s hot. I mean she’s stacked, bro.”
See, back in the day this is the kind of conversation I’d have with him that didn’t make me cringe. However, with everything he’s been through and with the fact that his mental faculties are behind, I’m concerned and feeling overprotective to the point where I want to track this Janette down and interrogate her.
“So she fell off her bicycle, Berk? Was she a competitor?”
“No,” he laughs. “She didn’t fall off a bicycle, she fell off her Harley when someone cut her off.”
My head bounces back on my neck so fast I hear it snap. “She rode a motorcycle?”
“She sure did, and one day, she will again and she promised to take me for a ride! I’m gonna ride bitch, Aris.”
I can’t help it. I really can't, no matter how much I try to hold it back, I fall in on myself until my abs are crunched and I release a full belly laugh. I cackle so fucking hard that I get a stitch in my side.
When I finally have myself under control, I say, “I wouldn’t go admitting to anyone that you’ll be riding bitch, Berk. Then you really will lose your masculinity.”
“But what a way to lose it,” he dreamily says.
“Touche, brother. Tou-motherfucking-che.”
CHAPTER
ELEVEN
BERLYNN
