(Brad)
The girl turns my brain to sludge
.
COLLEEN IS SO
hot and cold all of the time that it makes my head spin. But I'm not complaining because she's been giving Mac all kinds of attention lately. I make her mad and then reap the rewards of it. It's screwed up, but it's also so typical of how we've always been. Part of it is that we don’t communicators, but I think that most of it is that she enjoys being a pain in the ass. Not that I'm an angel, but I like to think I'm the more reasonable of the two.
That Monday, after the porntop incident as
Colleen is referring to it, I was nervous as hell. I should have just told her outright what I'd had Adam do before she left the house; but she was all nice and sharing her coffee and I was naked. Plus, Mac thought she looked good in that power suit. I know it was a dumb, messed up idea. I’m an idiot. I have no defense except to say that the girl turns my brain to sludge.
Horny sludge
.
I don’t even want to get started
on the Vicky situation. I told her I called it off but once Colleen started acting up she didn’t care. I guess she’s being a good friend by looking out for me because she thinks Colleen is a spoiled princess because she strings me along. I’ve tried to tell her time and time again how untrue that is, but she won’t listen. She just doesn’t get us. Most people don’t.
Now it’s Friday and I’
ve spent all week with a serious case of paranoia. You know that saying “sleep with one eye open”? Yeah. I’ve mastered that shit. Every tiny movement in the bed at night and I’m on high alert. Wednesday night after I reached for my gun after Colleen got up to pee, she demanded that I put it across the room at night. Then she proceeded to tell me that if she was intent on killing me that I wouldn’t be able to get to the gun in time. Then she told me not to worry. Not to worry? The hell? And then she tried to cuddle me. So now I don’t even have my gun to keep me safe at night.
I know something’s coming.
Colleen doesn’t know how to let anything go and this was a big thing. I haven’t slept well in days, delirium is getting to me and I swear to God that my shampoo smells funny when I use it. I took a shower last night and asked Colleen if my hair looked darker when I got out. She leaned up, kissed my cheek and told me I looked just as handsome as I ever did. So now I’m convinced there’s something in my hair. When Colleen is that kind to me, something’s very, very wrong.
I’m in the kitchen, drinking my coffee and waiting for the devil herself to come downstairs. I check my watch. I have to leave if I want to get to work on time. I give her another minute to come downstairs and when she doesn’t I trudge upstairs to say goodbye. She may have me ready to piss myself with fear, but I still want to tell Satan’s leader good
bye before heading off to work.
When I get upstairs she’s still sound asleep. I creep toward the bed and kiss her cheek. She jumps suddenly a huge smile on her face and shouts “good morning.” I jump backwards nearly falling on my ass. My heart is about to jump out of my chest and I’m not ashamed to admi
t that I’ve nearly peed myself.
“You’re so jumpy this m
orning,” she smiles innocently.
“You’re
evil,” I mutter, my hand over my heart.
“What, you don’t like surprises? I mean, it could have
been worse. You could have been at work when it happened.” Her nose wrinkles at the thought. I narrow my eyes at her. She crawls across the bed and stands on her knees. Placing her hands on my chest she lets them wander south below my belt buckle. When her hand finds Mac and she starts stroking him through the fabric, I’m at a loss.
“I have to
go, pretty girl,” I hiss and let my head fall back. The last thing I want to do is leave but I really do have to show up. It doesn’t help that we haven’t had sex since Monday night. I have to sleep every night with that tight little butt pushed against Mac and pretend to be oblivious to her obvious attempts to rile me up.
“I know, pretty boy,” she says huskily. She unzips m
y fly and pulls out my straining erection, circling her thumb on the moistened tip. “You’re so ready to go, baby,” she whispers. I hear the bed move and next thing I know her mouth is on Mac. She feels amazing. But then, moments later her mouth is gone. She tucks me back in and zips me back up and crawls off the bed. From the doorway she’s giggling. “I just wanted to make sure you’re hard for me all day, baby.” And she walks off. I’m going to kill her one of these days if she doesn’t kill me first.
I use the drive to work to will away my
painful erection. She felt good. So warm and wet, moving up and down… damn it. I’m not convinced that I’m going to be able to leave my truck until I see James’s wide load crawling out of his SUV. A few breaths later and I’m good to go. I’d have to punish her for that later on—sending me to the station like that.
Medusa herself calls me around noon and lets me know that she’s bringing me lunch. She’s been on a really fierce bender this week and somehow negotiated with her boss to work from home today. I don’t even want to know what she said to get him to agree to that. Normally she says he’s a stickler about being out of the office. Frankly, I kind of want to call the guy up and demand that he demand she goes back into the office.
At least when she’s there I know I’m safe. I don’t know how she’s been at work and I really don’t care. He can worry about watching his back and I’ll worry about mine.
“Hey,
Brad. Come in here, will ya?” Dan calls me into his office. I stand up from my desk and stretch. I hate filling out paperwork. If I could, I’d make some dumb rookie do it for me so his sorry ass can be stuck at his desk all day. At this point I think I’d even go for being a meter maid if I didn’t have to fill out anymore forms.
“What’s up, Chief?” I ask as I walk into his office and plop d
own in one of the guest chairs.
“Is there something going on at home?” he asks slowly. The Chief is all for talking personal
stuff when it’s positive but the moment things goes south, he’s out of there. I shrug my shoulders.
“Sure. Why?” I ask.
“Um,” he sits in his chair and clasps his hands together. His head is down and his shoulders are shaking. “You just look a little blue, that’s all.” And he breaks out into a full-on chuckle. This joke is clearly over my head. I have no idea what’s funny about the color blue.
“You, uh, drinkin’ at work again, Chief?” I laugh, thinking that I’m funny. He narrows his eyes at me and I sit up straighter. “Sorry,” I mutter and rub my neck. Right when
Colleen and I were graduating high school, Louise got pregnant with twins but lost them pretty late in the second trimester. That was a rough time in the Frasier household. I knew it wasn’t their first miscarriage but it had hit them the hardest because she’d lost them so late.
“It’s okay, son,” the Chief says. He looks at me seriously and sighs. “You’re a husband now. I just want to know that you’re
taking care of my little girl.”
“I’m trying but you kno
w how she is,” I grumble.
“That I do,” he laughs wistfully. “She seems happier with you. I haven’t seen her so lively since
she went off to that damn college. She’s been all work and no play. It’s time my girl enjoyed her life.” I smile at him.
“I want
wring her stubborn neck every other minute, but she’s it for me, you know?” I say. Dan smiles at me. I gulp, a little surprised at my confession. It’s not like he didn’t know before. Like any good father, he just likes hearing it.
“Don’t think there aren’t times that I don’t want to ship
Louise off somewhere tropical.” We laugh for a moment. “So things are okay? There’s nothing fishy going on that’d make you blue?” Again with the blue!
“No, sir,” I lean forward with a slight bit of confusion. “Do I look blue or something?” And he bursts out laughing again. I stand up, annoyed now because I have no idea why he keeps talking about the color blue. He waves me off and I walk back to my desk.
Colleen is in my chair, playing with her phone.
“You come to feed me, pretty girl?” she looks up and smiles. I give her a kiss on the forehead. She stands up and pulls me down to her, kissing me passionately. I wrap my arms around her waist and pull her close. As the kiss heats up I can hear cheers from all around.
“You’ve got to be kidding me,” James mutters in complete shock. Colleen pulls away and kisses the side of my mouth. I look around to see that we’ve attracted quite the audience.
“Befo
re you eat baby, you might want to take one of these.” Colleen smirks and tosses me a prescription bottle. I look at the label. Viagra. Oh, she’s hilarious. The label is obviously homemade. My pharmacy prints my middle initial on the bottle and this label doesn’t have that. Yeah, Viagra my ass.
“My wife is funny,” I laugh and hold the bottle up so the boys can see it. “She thinks I need Viagra.” They all start laughing.
Colleen bites her lip and stomps her foot, obviously annoyed that I’m not buying it.
“Baby,” she whines, “how do you expect us to conceive
Bradley Jr. if you don’t take your little pill first? Come on, baby. Let’s have a nooner!” she says with faux enthusiasm and rubs her belly. Yeah, like this is going to embarrass me. I smile and wink at her.
“Oh, baby, that’s not
how you talk in bed.” I puff my chest out because yeah, I know I’m a stud and if she wasn’t on the pill or whatever, she would be knocked up by now.
“My ears!”
James shouts. I look at him to laugh but my dad is standing behind him and even he looks disgusted. Maybe that was too much?
“Well,”
Colleen challenges, “I’m ovulating. So go ahead, pop your little blue pill so we can get on it. Will ya?” I smirk at her and open the lid. Her eyes grow wide. I know she’s faking it. These things have to be sugar pills or something. I reach in and grab one and toss it into my mouth.
“
Bradley!” she screams. The Chief comes running out of his office to see what all the fuss is about but the moment he sees that it’s just me and Colleen, he waves us off and walks back into his office. I laugh at the Chief’s dismissal. Before I know it, Colleen is pulling me off to the side, pulling me down to her height.
“That was really Viagra, you idiot!” she seethes in my ear. I laugh
and shrug her off. I’m not going to panic, not until I have a problem that won’t go away.
“DUDE,” JAMES SAYS
knocking on the bathroom door. “Are you okay?” I grunt, incapable of voicing exactly how not okay I am at this moment. It hurts. I’ve taken care of the issue twice but figured out after the second time that that wasn’t doing me any good. Orgasms are no fun when they keep coming back and won’t go away.
“Go away!” I yell. I’m on the floor, my pants are down around my hips and my
erection is literally painfully hard. Poor Mac is so sensitive that I can’t even touch him. It may not last long but the relief is unimaginable.
“It’s been three hours!”
James yells. I kick the door and wince. That action shook my torso. “You should know that Colleen just got here. She feels real bad, dude!” James will always defend his sister. I scoff.
“Your sister is a bitch!” I shout just loud enough for only
James and whatever other nosey asshole is outside to hear. All the lug nut does is laugh.
“Porntop, dude, p
orntop.”
“Yeah, yeah,” I grumble. I’m never going to live that one down.
I scramble to cover myself up when I see the lock turn and the door open quickly. Colleen sneaks in and re-locks the door behind her. I practically growl at her. I can’t decide if I want to have my way with her until she’s as uncomfortable as I am or if I want to hogtie her and leave her for dead on the Southeast Expressway.
“I am so sorry!”
Colleen whispers. Her eyes are red and she looks truly sorry. I want to believe her but Mac isn’t buying it. If he has to take a trip to the hospital, he’s going to withhold sex for a week. I’d go for longer but I’m a sucker for her big blue eyes.
“Just forgive her, dude,”
James says through the door. Colleen turns around and pushes her face to the crack of the door.
“
James, I’m about to try some creative techniques to take care of Brad’s problem in here, so unless you want to hear, I suggest you back up.” I laugh and then moan because even moving hurts at this point. Colleen turns back to me and I notice that she’s wearing a skirt—without panties. Half of me has had this fantasy for a long time and the other half of me is about to cry because I’m not sure Mac can take it.
(Colleen)
… in an effort to be something more.
THERE HAVE BEEN
many moments in my life where I thought that I could not be more embarrassed. There have been times where I have burst out into tears in public because I just can’t handle the teasing. There have been times where I have been certain that the ground is going to swallow me whole. Most of those times have involved Brad. This time is no different.
We’re due at m
y parents’ house in a few hours; though I’m not sure we’re going to make it. We’re both suffering from some stomach issues. And when I say some, I’m being gentle. There’s a big family get-together this afternoon, which should be fun. I haven’t seen much of my friends and family since returning home from Vegas, not that I’d seen them much before that. I was always working and just plain too busy to visit. At least that’s what I told myself. The truth is probably more like I felt like an outcast around them. I don’t anymore.
All of them know who they are and they take pride in that. I had tried so hard to separate myself from them in an effort to be something more. Though now, the elusive something more still evades me. I remember wanting a nice house, a small backyard, a devoted husband, and a couple of kids. In this moment, my stomach bloated and all of
the windows open, I don’t know why what my parents had was never good enough for me. It seems I don’t know much of anything anymore, including myself.
“Can you go in the other room, stinky girl?”
Brad asks, sitting in his chair and chuckling. I cock an eyebrow at him.
“You’re not exactly smelling fresh yourself.” I grumble and throw the green and white Celtics coaster at him. “Besides, this is your fault.”
“My fault?” he scoffs, blocking the coaster from hitting his face. He laughs and another round begins. I grab the nearest throw pillow and bury my nose in it. It doesn’t help. Nothing helps. Everything smells in here. “This is not my fault, Colleen. Who bought the laxatives to begin with?”
“Yeah, but they were supposed to just be for you, not me!” I shout through the pillow, covering my face. He laughs again and I fear the worst but nothing comes. Tha
nk God.
“Yeah and you’re the idiot who fell for the old bait and switch routine. Did you really think I hadn’t anticipated that you’d put something in the creamer of my coffee?” he says, smiling and lets another one go. Now I think he’s doing it on purpos
e, if that’s even possible.
“Yeah and you’re the idiot who didn’t anticipate that I had switched mugs,” I remove the pillow from m
y face and smile at him smugly.
“Yeah and you’re the idiot who accidentally put it in both mugs! Now you’re suffering, too. So explain to me how it is my fault that you sound like Ol’ Flatulent Aunt Fanny over there?” I grimace and my stomach betrays me. Aunt Fanny is
Brad’s great aunt who passed away a few years back. In her later years she was unable to control her bowels no matter where she went and she always had gas.
No matter what
.
Out of nowhere I start laughing uncontrollably.
Brad just stares me down as though I’ve gone insane and I’m sure I have. Sitting here in the living room, channel surfing and polluting the air; I have more than I ever thought I would. Right now it really doesn’t matter how embarrassing this little problem is. Brad isn’t shaming me for it, he doesn’t find me disgusting for it, and he isn’t running away because his image of me is shattered. A lifetime of friendship has prepared us for dealing with flatulence—together—and not running like hell.
“You and me,” I finally calm my laughter. “We’re sitting here, letting ‘em rip, and it’s okay,” I say.
Brad raises his eyebrow.
“Why wouldn’t it be ok
ay, pretty girl?” He’s serious.
“Well,” I mumble and tuck a strand of
hair behind my ear. “You’re not running away from me. You’re just here.” I smile up at him, thoroughly embarrassed at having to explain myself.
“When the hell are you going to
get it?” he asks. “You’re my pretty girl and not just when you’re all dressed up. You’re my pretty girl when you’ve had too many beers and you’re ready to puke. You’re my pretty girl when you’re jealous and when you’re shy; and you’re definitely my pretty girl when you’re farting your ass off,” he smirks at me. I laugh loudly, unabashedly snorting along the way and he joins in. I take a moment to look at him and see a twinkle in his eyes.
We don’t talk about what we are to each other anymore. I don’t think either of us knows. We’re married. Okay. But are we friends? Lovers? Fuck buddies? God, I hope we’re not fuck buddies. As much as I’ve been enjoying the sex, I don’t just want to be something
Brad does when he’s bored or between women. These past few weeks have me wanting more from Brad than just his friendship. I want his everything and I want to be everything for him; but what if Darla is wrong? What if Brad doesn’t love me? Part of me thinks I’d be an idiot to think he doesn’t have feelings for me. The other part of me doesn’t know. This thing with Brad has always been there, so what if I’m wrong? What if I’m too late and he’s just settled into this level of comfort with me where he could never seriously think of me that way…
“Dude!”
James’s voice shocks me from my thoughts. I look up and find him walking in the front door. Brad has gotten up to let him in. He shuts the door behind him. James crinkles his nose. “It stinks in here.”
“
Colleen’s got some bad gas,” Brad says nonchalantly like it’s an everyday thing. My face turns beat red. I don’t care if it is just James or not—it’s still embarrassing and damn it to hell—half of the stench in this place is Brad.
“Did you knock my sister
up, bro? Darla had bad gas with each of our kids,” James muses as Brad leads him into the kitchen. They’re chatting back and forth about “Darla’s monster farts” as James calls them but I can’t really tune into it. James’s off-handed comment about being pregnant has thrown me off. I try to calculate the time since my last shot but my memory is fuzzy. It was definitely before Vegas.
“I don’t know
. Maybe,” Brad says. I hear something drop in the kitchen and pull myself from my thoughts.
“Are you for real?”
James asks. Brad laughs—loudly.
“Yeah, for a little while now,” he confirms. I can hear
James’s gasp loud and clear. “Can we keep it between us? I don’t want Colleen freakin’ out. You know how they all are. It’s bad enough right now that our parents run around and rub her stomach. She doesn’t need crap from our friends, too.” I’m actually a little impressed with him right now. He’s standing up for me.
“So, you guys are actually trying for a baby or something?”
James asks.
“
I don’t know. I think Colleen’s on something but she doesn’t talk about it and I don’t ask. If I knock her up she can’t leave me right,” Brad says firmly. My jaw drops. Is he serious? I remember his comment on the way home from the airport.
I can’t wait until we have kids and can have a van that smells like
old cheese.
At the time I thought
he was insane, but that feels like a lifetime ago. Images of rowdy little boys with Brad’s hair flood my imagination. The thought makes me smile.
“I told you,
you could have knocked her up years ago and spared yourself all this hardship,” James says. Just because he and Darla had a pregnancy scare back in high school and mom and dad sat him down and told him that if she was pregnant that he would have had to marry her—James now thinks impregnating women is the most effective way of keeping them around. If I didn’t know him, I’d think he was a major creeper who possibly needed to be locked up.
Walking back into the room,
James is carrying a package of flour and a six pack of beer. He holds them up for my benefit. “Flour’s for Darla and the beer’s for me. She drives me to drink when we have one of these family things. Thinks she’s got to out-do the corner bakery.” I smile and laugh. That’s my Darla. She definitely goes all out.
“So, you look
ing to be pregnant or what?” James asks, giving me the eye. Air leaves my lungs and I feel like I’m been knocked in my windpipe. Brad snorts but then looks at me and he stands up straight, giving me a look that is unreadable.
“I’m not looking
to be anything, James,” I defend and roll my eyes trying to shrug it off. If I freak out about my potentially lapsed birth control shot then Brad will, too; and that’s no good. I smile at them both. James seems placated by my response but the husband is giving me a knowing look. As he walks James to the door, I hurry out of the room. I rush upstairs to hide from him even though he’ll find me; this at least buys me a few moments of peace, but not for long. A few words are exchanged and Brad closes the front door. I hear his footsteps on the stairs.
“Ah, come on, stink.
Don’t hide from me. You know he was only joking!” I crawl into bed and hide my face under my pillow trying to think things through. How could I have been so reckless with something so important? It’s not like we’ve ever used a condom. Come to think of it, I never even thought about a condom or birth control until this moment. I had stayed on the shot for the convenience of it, despite not needing birth control. I suppose that it should have been more of a priority, but clearly it wasn’t. My brain thinks over the time frame and I realize that my shot would have been wearing off right around my birthday. And it’s then that I remember I was supposed to reschedule my doctor’s appointment because it interfered with our trip, and I just didn’t remember.