Read Manties in a Twist (The Subs Club Book 3) for Free Online Page B

That was the only thing I could think of that would get Gould pistols-at-dawn mad.
    I was right.
    “I was making a joke about—” Ryan shook his head at me. “I don’t know, we were doing BDSM puns. And I said something stupid, like, ‘I already used all my best gags , but if I think of smother one, I’ll throat out there.’” He gave me this look that was possibly defiant. “I wasn’t even thinking about what happened to your friend. I was just thinking, like, gags, smother boxes, breath play, etcetera.”
    “It’s fine.” Dave tightened his hold around Gould’s middle. “It just caught us off guard.”
    But I could tell from Dave’s tone and the way he was eyeing Ryan that it wasn’t fine. Normally I was all for puns. But, yeah, I could totally see how this had blown up. Gould really didn’t do great with reminders about Hal dying. And since he hardly ever got drunk, probably the alcohol was making this ten times worse.
    “How could you not’ve known what you were saying?” Gould demanded, still staring at Ryan. “You know about Hal.”
    “Yes,” Ryan snapped. “I wasn’t thinking. Take it easy .”
    Ryan’s friends were still watching kinda wide-eyed from the yard, and I didn’t see any of the people who would’ve been a real help in this situation: Mom, D, Miles, and Drix . . .
    “Hey.” I wasn’t sure who to reassure first. “Why don’t we all go back in? It’s cool, Ry, they know it was a joke.” I glanced at Gould. “Dude, he really didn’t mean anything by it.”
    Gould was breathing hard. He looked into my eyes like maybe I’d betrayed him a little. The weirdest thing was that when I’d heard Ryan’s joke, I’d gotten a little jolt of, Whoa, too soon . But it didn’t feel too soon. Like, the joke didn’t offend me personally. Maybe I should have been upset, but I mostly just felt like, yeah, the world was still allowed to make jokes, even jokes about stuff that wasn’t funny to us anymore.
    Dave helped Gould inside, and I held the door for Ryan, putting a hand on his back as he walked through. He turned to me once the door had swung shut behind us. “I’m sorry. It was stupid.”
    “It’s cool, seriously. They’re just—” I didn’t want to imply my friends were making too big a deal of this, because their feelings were, like, their feelings . But I wanted to make Ryan feel better. “They know you weren’t trying to be a dick. Let’s get back to partying.”

    Around 2 a.m., Ryan and I lay on the couch in the dark, exhausted. The only light came from the streetlights outside and the glowing red switch on the power strip next to the TV. A veggie tray strewn with broccoli remains and random baby carrots sat on the coffee table next to a bunch of open dip containers, and the houseflies were having a field day pooping in our hummus and stuff. Empty beer cans were everywhere, and the empty brownie pan had a pile of plastic spoons in it.
    I blew out a breath, making my lips flap. “That was crazy.”
    “Wild,” he agreed.
    “I didn’t even know some of the people who were here at the end.”
    “Those were friends of my friends.”
    “Well, it was nice of them to bring us Fact or Crap.” I glanced at the game cards littered across the floor.
    Silence. I scratched my crotch. My balls smelled like sweaty bacon, which was a thing I wanted to change with some shower magic. But also I didn’t feel like getting up.
    Ryan had been in a shitty mood since the incident with Dave and Gould, and after a couple more beers he’d come up to me and been like, “God, do they overreact much?” I could tell he wasn’t trying to be mean—just when Ryan felt guilty he got extra snappy. I hadn’t known how to defend my friends without making Ryan feel worse. So I’d given him another beer because alcohol is like a grown-up pacifier.
    Ryan’s voice was quiet when he spoke again. “It feels like it’s finally happening.”
    “What?”
    He turned toward me. “Like we were