Page 88 of Everything After

“You’re fucking sick, dude,” I muttered with my brows bunched so tight they felt painful.

“We’ll see,” Lily replied.

I almost choked as I reeled around, nearly giving myself whiplash when I looked from Jack to Lily. “We fucking well won’t,” I countered again, pulling Lily away from him and wrapping my arms possessively around her. “My kid, my wife’s pussy. I won’t have her treated like a fucking circus act,” I ordered.

“Like Lily said, we’ll see. I’ll take that for now. I still have plenty of time to talk you into the benefits of having me in the room for the main event,” Jack taunted, wagging his eyebrows

“Did I ask to be at your kids’ births? No, because that would be fucking weird.”

“It would have been,” Jack agreed. “But you and Mya didn’t grow up together. You’re not as close in the same way as Lily and I are.”

“I’m not having this conversation with you anymore,” I said shutting him down.

“Jesus, I thought this was going to be a chill day. This is the second argument I’ve heard in the past thirty minutes,” Gibson confessed.

“It’s not an argument, it’s a debate,” Jack informed him.

“Debate?” Rick interjected, stepping into our circle. He held a fist up to Gibson and once they’d bumped fists, Gibson probed further. “What are you debating?”

“Nothing. The topic isn’t up for debate,” I informed them with a warning note in my tone.

“I happen to think it’s an extremely important topic,” Jack countered, breezily.

“Well, are you going to tell us so that we can judge for ourselves,” Gibson questioned.

“Excuse me, Gibson. I know all these people are famous, but I never in a million years thought I’d be at the same social event as Gibson Barclay. Would you mind if I took a selfie with you?” Delilah asked, stopping the conversation.

“Really, Delilah? Now? You’ve been so cool, hanging with us and never once asking anything of us,” I chastised.

“I’m guessing I might not have the opportunity after today. I know that I’ll see everyone else because I’ve already met everyone several times now.”

“You don’t want a picture with me?” Rick muttered. “I was a rock God while this lot were still shitting their pants and wondering what that fascinating, rubber, dangly bit between their legs was,” he informed her.

“Oh, I didn’t mean to offend you by not asking. It’s just that you’re a bit odd sometimes and it scares me,” Delilah confessed, her eyes darting from me to Gibson for reassurance.

Gibson chuckled. “Who are you and didn’t your mom teach you about filtering your conversation?”

I laughed. “Gib, this is Delilah. She’s a music student just about to graduate from FSU. I was asked to mentor her, but she’s got it all going on. You’ll want to have your picture taken with her for when she’s famous.”

“Is that right?” Gibson muttered playfully in his rich, low timbre. “Then you heard the man, let’s do this,” he said, sounding much more enthusiastic about the task than he did before. I knew he’d have no issue granting Delilah’s request in the first place, but I loved that the guy went along with my effort to boost her confidence.

“Would you mind if I took a selfie?” Rick asked, pretending to be timid as he waved his cell phone in Delilah’s direction.

“Sure, but then, I’ll politely ask you if you would give us our privacy and not post it on social media. The last thing we need is swarms of small boats turning up here and mobbing me,” Delilah joked.

“Damn, a diva already,” Gibson said, chuckling.

“With good cause,” I insisted. “Just wait until you hear her play for us later. Her talent is insane.”

“Insane enough to let her open for you?” Gibson questioned with a raised brow.

“Dude, she’s that good. I’d bet at some point she’ll have someone like us open for her… Madison Square Garden, mark my words.”

Delilah grinned at my praise as Rick stepped forward, posed sweetly for the first picture, then looked like he’d pretended to lick her face for the next. It was only when Delilah said, “Ew,” and she used the back of her hand to wipe her wet cheek that I realized he’d done it.

“For goodness’ sake, Rick,” Coral scolded, pulled a small silk handkerchief from her purse and handed it to Delilah. “Please forgive our poorly mannered partner, he forgets himself sometimes. He’s used to partying with animals, we don’t get many invites to these civilized small gatherings.” She smiled a sympathetic smile and turned to scold Rick again. “Honestly, we can’t take you anywhere. I swear you’re getting worse the older you grow.”

“God help the retirement community that gets you,” Gibson agreed.