Sex. Love. Marriage by Shey Stahl

Author:Shey Stahl
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Shey Stahl LLC
Published: 2019-07-18T16:00:00+00:00

“HOA LADY IS lit.”

Jason’s right. She is. Two brownies ago, but then she went for her fourth, and it was the end game. Now she’s sitting with another chick, sharing a glass of wine probably talking about how much she hates my ass for not mowing my lawn. Yep. Still haven’t. At this point, it’s more on principle than anything. I want to see how far she’s going to take it and believe me, I’ll let the motherfucker grow to be a foot tall before I mow it now.

Steve quirks an eyebrow, smiling. “What does lit mean? Does that mean high?”

Bonner slaps his hand against Steve’s chest. “Please try to follow the conversation, Steve.” And then he leans in. “Okay, now for the fun part. We shit on her lawn.”

“I don’t think I want to do that,” Steve adds. “That doesn’t sound fun.”

Bonner snorts and cracks open another beer. “I’m kidding. We’re not doing that. But I have a plan.”

“That doesn’t sound fun.” This time I’m saying this, only to be glared at by Bonner. “Fine. What the fuck is this brilliant plan of yours?”

Bonner grins and it’s clear he was a troubled kid because he holds up a handheld blowtorch. “We’re gonna burn a dick in her lawn.”

“Whose dick?” Yep. Steve asks this. As if you were surprised.

“Mine,” Bonner grumbles, grabbing his dick, and up the street he goes with the blowtorch.

Jason gives a nod, rolling his eyes. “I think we’re supposed to follow.”

So we follow and Bonner, not me, burns a big cock in HOA lady’s yard with the blowtorch. I have a feeling it’s not going to go over well, but after two brownies, I don’t care either. What I do care about is finding my wife again.

For an hour, I don’t find her. Instead, I go door to door with Hazel and Fin, who lets me hold her, if you can believe it. I think it’s what, the third time in her little life that this has happened.

“Do you still hate me?” I ask her, wondering if I’m even qualified to be holding a baby. Probably not. Before you go calling child protective services on me, she’s totally fine and so am I. The brownies just took the edge off.

Fin looks at me, frowning, her little yellow feathered hand reaches up and smacks my lips. I think this is her way of saying shut the fuck up. So I do.

“Daddy!” Hazel beams, showing me a package of Sour Patch Kids. “Look, it’s your favorite. Mara liked them too, didn’t she?”

A lump immediately forms in my throat. Hazel’s right. They are Mara’s favorite. I nod, unable to say anything to her. I’m afraid if I do, my words will come out shaky and then she’ll ask if I’m upset and that will lead to more questions.

Turning, I head down the walkway of the house we were at, dodging kids on the sidewalk. When I get to the end of the driveway, I look back over my shoulder at Hazel, who is watching me curiously.

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