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Jet who’s gone to open the door, turns to look at me, his dark eyes wide. “Cat,” he mouths.
“Spot on,” I mouth back.
Jet sighs. “Come on in,” he says, “Girls and animal.”
Brylee is holding the cat, and Simone is holding a tray covered in tin foil, her pink hair pulled into two puffy pigtails on top of her head.
“Guys, this is Brylee and Simone.” I go to meet them halfway.
“And Fluff,” Brylee says. “Fluff, say hi.”
The furball glares at us with baleful yellow eyes and says nothing.
Okay. I’ve got this. I usher them into the living room and introduce them to Evangeline and Micah, then my brother, drawing them all together into a group.
Simone places the tray on the table where we’ve already placed ten thousand kinds of snacks and dips that Joel spent two days making, and uncovers it.
Micah squints at the oddly-shaped cake. “Interesting.”
“Hey, I’m only the tray-holder,” Simone says and l
icks her lips. “But I’m up for anything.”
Silence greets this enigmatic statement.
Okay, then…
“What is this?” Joel drawls, wandering over to us and slipping an arm around my waist. “Brylee, you made a cake?”
“Yes. It’s pussified.”
Pussified. Somehow I don’t think this conversation is going right. “Bry…”
“It’s shaped like my pussy,” Brylee goes on.
Micah chokes on his drink.
“Your pussy,” Evangeline says, her face red.
Joel leans closer. “Not sure I see it.”
“A pussified cake?” Jet appears on my other side, intrigued.
“Well, Candy said I wasn’t allowed to make a dick-shaped cake,” Brylee pouts. “Because of parents coming.”
“Right. No dick-shaped cakes tonight.” I lick my lips, frown. “Bry, really…”
“A cake in the image of your pussy?” my brother asks, leaning over the cake. “Is this for real?”
Brylee lifts the grumpy cat she’s been holding. “Yes! Isn’t it a spitting image? She used to be called Fang, but I changed it to Fluff, because of the fur.”
Oh. OH!
“Behold the pussy that launched a thousand ships,” Joel mutters, and I swallow a snicker.
“Goddamn,” Jet breathes, nuzzling my neck, sending goosebumps over my skin. “I prefer your pussy, Sugar Pop.”
“You’d better.”
