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He’s piecing our night together collectively. He’ll get a working timeline of our evening together. Hence the name ‘recall brunch.’ Colton’s like our anarchy archivist. He’s currently scrolling Robbie’s phone.
“You seriously text Claire that much?”
“What? We’re codependent.” He scoops a mountain of brisket hash into his mouth.
“Did you marry Makenzie?” my brother asks.
I grin. “Thought maybe I’d get divorced first. But the genuine answer is, not yet.” I waggle my eyebrows.
Robbie smirks, “Do it. Claire wants to put in a pool and buy a beach house. We need the cash.”
Robbie can afford anything he wants. Turns out his wonderful wife is an investment genius and has their money in all the right places. I tossed Claire some cash, and apparently, it’s doing well. She’s actually studying for her broker’s license so she can be more than a day trader. She says she wants to manage hedge funds. I love her dearly, but I never saw her becoming a Wolf of Wall Street.
“What did I miss?”
Colt says, “Nothing much. Law took off with a redhead.”
Law grins. “Yeah, I did. Wild shit. I mean, wild shit. At one point I was upside down and there was like a ghost in the corner.”
“Someone in a ghost costume watched?” Robbie asks.
“Maybe. Or maybe she has like a sex ghost. My dick might never recover.”
Hayden asks, “You had sex with three different women yesterday and that one was wild?”
Law looks up curiously. “Two. The chick at the club and the redhead. And technically, the redhead was after midnight.”
Dax tosses a matchbook to Law. “Steakhouse waitress.” We all nod in agreement, and Law exhales loudly and concedes.
“Yeah, but the redhead and the ghost will live in infamy.”
I ask, “You had a celestial three way?”
“Who the fuck knows what happened.”
Hayden grins and says, “And her name?” He’s ribbing his little brother, who never remembers women.
Law grins smugly at us after looking up at the ceiling momentarily. “Celeste.”
Dax slams his hands on the table as all our eyes bug out of our heads.
Robbie cocks his head. “WHAA? Baby bro. What the hell? You made that up.”
Colt holds up a receipt. “Can confirm.” He passes it around, and it’s a casino bar receipt for $124.16 with a lipstick number and the name Celeste.
Law screams, “Burn.” Then he shovels half a steak into his mouth. “Shocks the hell out of me, too. Let’s call it maturity.” We all laugh, then chatter insults at him, tossing our napkins at his head.
“Quick clarification,” I interrupt the assault on Law.
Colt looks up. “On what?”
“What constitutes sex?” I ask.
Robbie says, “Ejaculation.”
“Let’s go with that,” Hayden confirms.
“Fine. Cool. So I can only masturbate once? Cuz, I’ve already lost the bet.”
