Page 31
Story: Million Dollar High
“I know you ladies like to play hard to get, but would you just fucking spit out what the hell is going on with you two already? It’s getting to the point where I think I’ll need a code breaker just to have a conversation with you.”
Gabe shrugged. “Sure, princess. Just so you don’t hurt your pretty little head, I’ll break it down for you. My sex life is going to hell in a shit basket. I haven’t fucked my girlfriend in three long excruciating weeks, and I’m pathetic enough to admit I don’t want to fuck anyone else but her. Has she got me wrapped around her pinky like some spineless fool? Fuck yes. Do I like it? Fuck no, I detest it enough to contemplate hopping back on a plane to Bora Bora and strangling the bitch. I’ve given myself more hand jobs than a milkmaid in Texas, and I’m terrified one more jerking off will literally jerk my dick off. So tonight, I intend to get triple shit-faced so I can forget I have a dick, or a girlfriend. Is that succinct enough for you?”
Damon had started choking halfway through Gabe’s diatribe and held out his hand in a “please stop” sign when Mike went to thump him on the back a tenth time.
Gabe downed his drink and held up his hand for another round. “Your turn,” he said to Noah.
He tried to find the right words to break the news. But two whiskeys and a quickly downed beer, not to mention the brainpower he’d wasted trying to decipher Leia’s words, had worn him down. He drained the dregs of his beer and slammed the bottle on the table.
“Ashley Maitland is pregnant. She claims the baby is mine.”
Silence.
Damon made a dogged effort to chew and swallow the food in his mouth without choking again. Mike stared at him as if hewasn’t sure whether to perform an exorcism or hunt down a Hazmat suit.
As for Gabriel… he just looked intensely disappointed. “All this time, you were claiming not to know why she was trying to reach you…” He shook his head. “And you were fucking her?” he condemned in a flat tone.
“What the hell?” Noah frowned.
“Wait a minute?—”
They both ignored Damon. “What did you just say to me?” Noah demanded from Gabe.
Gabe pointed an accusing finger at him. “You claimed you had no idea why she was in Miami. If you were stupid enough to fuck that psycho bitch, I’d have thought you’d be man enough to admit it.”
“You need to stop right now, before my fist says hello to that pretty boy jaw that Playboy photographer’s been wanting to memorialize for over a decade.”
The table lapsed into silence as their drinks were delivered. It didn’t stop his best friends from glaring their anger and confusion at him though. Seeing as they’d spent the better part of two years worrying that Ashley had fucked him up for all eternity, he couldn’t blame them.
He raked a hand through his hair and grabbed his second beer the moment it was placed before him. The waitress looked around the table, rolled her eyes and muttered, “I’m not even gonna ask,” and walked away.
Noah gulped down half his beer before he glared at Gabe. “If you’d have let me finish, I would’ve told you the psycho bitch didn’t conceive my child by conventional means, asshole.”
Gabe’s glass froze halfway to his mouth and his eyebrows hit his hairline.
Mike frowned. “Fuck, I’m beyond confused.”
Damon just kept shaking his head.
Noah relayed the story of the sperm and egg harvesting two years ago. “I never hid the fact that I wanted a kid eventually. When she got ill, and the doctors thought it might affect her ability to have kids, we thought what the hell, might as well freeze mine too… just in case.”
“So she used your soldiers to knock herself up without telling you?” Damon’s face clenched in anger. “Jesus. Fuck.”
“You win the whole fucking world, my friend,” Mike muttered, his face frozen in shell-shock mode.
Gabriel’s mouth compressed into a white line, but his chest rose and fell in silent rage as his eyes met Noah’s. Seeing the clear apology in his friend’s gaze, Noah nodded his acceptance.
They clinked glasses and sucked down more booze.
“How far along is she?” Gabe asked, his tone calm but ice cold.
“She claims two months. DNA tests happened yesterday. I get the results tomorrow.”
Gabe nodded. “Lawyers involved? She can’t get away with this.”
“Ferranti’s on the case. He has a list as long as my arm to charge her with. But…” Noah stopped talking as a wave of helpless rage washed over him.
Gabe’s glass hit the table. He shook his head as a few more pennies fell into place. “But, if the kid’s yours, then you can’t really touch her, can you? At least not while she’s pregnant. Shit!”
Gabe shrugged. “Sure, princess. Just so you don’t hurt your pretty little head, I’ll break it down for you. My sex life is going to hell in a shit basket. I haven’t fucked my girlfriend in three long excruciating weeks, and I’m pathetic enough to admit I don’t want to fuck anyone else but her. Has she got me wrapped around her pinky like some spineless fool? Fuck yes. Do I like it? Fuck no, I detest it enough to contemplate hopping back on a plane to Bora Bora and strangling the bitch. I’ve given myself more hand jobs than a milkmaid in Texas, and I’m terrified one more jerking off will literally jerk my dick off. So tonight, I intend to get triple shit-faced so I can forget I have a dick, or a girlfriend. Is that succinct enough for you?”
Damon had started choking halfway through Gabe’s diatribe and held out his hand in a “please stop” sign when Mike went to thump him on the back a tenth time.
Gabe downed his drink and held up his hand for another round. “Your turn,” he said to Noah.
He tried to find the right words to break the news. But two whiskeys and a quickly downed beer, not to mention the brainpower he’d wasted trying to decipher Leia’s words, had worn him down. He drained the dregs of his beer and slammed the bottle on the table.
“Ashley Maitland is pregnant. She claims the baby is mine.”
Silence.
Damon made a dogged effort to chew and swallow the food in his mouth without choking again. Mike stared at him as if hewasn’t sure whether to perform an exorcism or hunt down a Hazmat suit.
As for Gabriel… he just looked intensely disappointed. “All this time, you were claiming not to know why she was trying to reach you…” He shook his head. “And you were fucking her?” he condemned in a flat tone.
“What the hell?” Noah frowned.
“Wait a minute?—”
They both ignored Damon. “What did you just say to me?” Noah demanded from Gabe.
Gabe pointed an accusing finger at him. “You claimed you had no idea why she was in Miami. If you were stupid enough to fuck that psycho bitch, I’d have thought you’d be man enough to admit it.”
“You need to stop right now, before my fist says hello to that pretty boy jaw that Playboy photographer’s been wanting to memorialize for over a decade.”
The table lapsed into silence as their drinks were delivered. It didn’t stop his best friends from glaring their anger and confusion at him though. Seeing as they’d spent the better part of two years worrying that Ashley had fucked him up for all eternity, he couldn’t blame them.
He raked a hand through his hair and grabbed his second beer the moment it was placed before him. The waitress looked around the table, rolled her eyes and muttered, “I’m not even gonna ask,” and walked away.
Noah gulped down half his beer before he glared at Gabe. “If you’d have let me finish, I would’ve told you the psycho bitch didn’t conceive my child by conventional means, asshole.”
Gabe’s glass froze halfway to his mouth and his eyebrows hit his hairline.
Mike frowned. “Fuck, I’m beyond confused.”
Damon just kept shaking his head.
Noah relayed the story of the sperm and egg harvesting two years ago. “I never hid the fact that I wanted a kid eventually. When she got ill, and the doctors thought it might affect her ability to have kids, we thought what the hell, might as well freeze mine too… just in case.”
“So she used your soldiers to knock herself up without telling you?” Damon’s face clenched in anger. “Jesus. Fuck.”
“You win the whole fucking world, my friend,” Mike muttered, his face frozen in shell-shock mode.
Gabriel’s mouth compressed into a white line, but his chest rose and fell in silent rage as his eyes met Noah’s. Seeing the clear apology in his friend’s gaze, Noah nodded his acceptance.
They clinked glasses and sucked down more booze.
“How far along is she?” Gabe asked, his tone calm but ice cold.
“She claims two months. DNA tests happened yesterday. I get the results tomorrow.”
Gabe nodded. “Lawyers involved? She can’t get away with this.”
“Ferranti’s on the case. He has a list as long as my arm to charge her with. But…” Noah stopped talking as a wave of helpless rage washed over him.
Gabe’s glass hit the table. He shook his head as a few more pennies fell into place. “But, if the kid’s yours, then you can’t really touch her, can you? At least not while she’s pregnant. Shit!”
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