“I’m not going out. That would be disrespectful to you,” I say.
She scoffs. “We’re not seeing each other, Eli. It’s not like you can’t date anyone.”
“I’m not going to date anyone. You know I don’t date.”
Her eyes connect with mine. “I mean, you know . . . have fun with other women.” She glances away, avoiding all eye contact with me. I’m not sure what’s going on—if she’s trying to push me away or attempt to fix a problem that’s not there—but whatever it is, I’m not falling for it.
Instead, I say, “I’m just going to get ready for bed.” Even though I’m not even close to being tired.
I grab my bag from the entryway and head back to the bedroom, where I unpack it, toss my dirty clothes in the corner that is currently my “hamper,” and then I sit on the edge of the bed with my phone in my hand.
I type up a text and send it to the boys . . . well, minus Pacey. Not sure texting him about his sister would be the smartest decision at the moment.
Hornsby: Things are really awkward over here. I don’t know what to do. Help me.
I rest my arms on my thighs as I check out the rest of the scores for the night, waiting for some responses. Thankfully, I don’t have to wait long, and my phone vibrates in my hand.
Posey: Describe awkward.
Taters: Yes, we need to know what we’re dealing with before offering advice.
Holmes: It’s probably not awkward. You’re just feeling like it is.
If only they knew. I slip my suit jacket off my shoulders and drape it over the edge of the bed before texting them back.
Hornsby: I came back to Penny’s and found her frantically steaming every suit I own. When I asked her what she was doing, she went on some rambling spree about the team sucking because of her, named our child Peggy Leggy, and then told me to go out and find a chick to fuck.
That about sums it up.
I’m about to hit send when I stop. This is Pacey’s sister I’m about to gossip about. If I had a sister, would I want all her quirkiness tossed around between my best friends? That would be a no. Not only that, but these guys have known her as long as I have, and they respect her, especially for how good she is at her job. I don’t want them thinking she’s a nutcase.
Fuck, but I need their opinion. And they know me. They know I’m a desperate fuck who is so far out of his comfort zone, I’ve forgotten what it looks like. And it’s only night two.
I hit send and hope that the guys don’t hate on me.
Holmes: Yeah, that’s awkward.
Taters: Peggy Leggy? What the fuck is that?
Posey: You know . . . Peggy Leggy could go either way. Charming or terrifying.
Taters: Nothing is charming about Peggy Leggy. She is the deranged doll in your grandma’s attic that was never loved but somehow lost an arm anyway.
Holmes: Can’t jump on board with Peggy Leggy. Sorry.
Posey: I don’t think we’re being fair about Peggy Leggy.
Hornsby: ENOUGH WITH PEGGY LEGGY!
Taters: Dude, you can’t throw down a name like that without telling us you vetoed it. Can you imagine Peggy Leggy Hornsby? Woof.
Posey: Hey, don’t you dare woof at Peggy Leggy. She might be a tattered shell of a baby, but she’s still Hornsby’s lineage.
Holmes: Did you veto the name?
Hornsby: Jesus Christ, of course I did. Peggy Leggy Hornsby is not happening.
Taters: At least he didn’t lose his common sense, boys.
Hornsby: Can we get back to the advice? Christ.
Holmes: Let’s remember this is Pacey’s sister here and our colleague. Respect. Men. Did you tell her she doesn’t need to steam your suits?
Hornsby: Of course I did. But she said something about a process. I don’t know. After she told me to go out and find someone, I decided to call the conversation quits.
Taters: Hear you, Holmes. Let’s pretend for a moment that we don’t know her? Did she say you could go out and find someone in a nasty tone?
Posey: Oooo, good question. Tone is very important. And yes, I can pretend.
Hornsby: Thanks, Holmes. I don’t want to disrespect her, either. As for the tone, she didn’t. She said it in more of a nervous tone. Like she was unsure.
Posey: I’m secondary sweating for you right now. Sounds wretched.
Taters: Yeah, that’s uncomfortable.
Hornsby: I KNOW! What should I do?
Holmes: I’d just go read a book, let her work through it herself.
Taters: You also don’t have a life.
Posey: I don’t think crawling into his own shell is the way to go on this, Holmes. Sorry. He has to live with her. Clearly, there’s awkward tension between you two. Try to break it.