I held up my hands. “Whoa! I didn’t say anything.”
“Me neither,” Trip said.
“Pussies,” she taunted.
Trip recoiled in surprise, and my eyebrows hit the stratosphere. Mark jumped in before either of us could reply.
“Seriously,” he said to Erin, soothing instead of a challenge, “all I’m saying is we’re ready to get the party started.”
“Yes, please,” Christy agreed.
Brooke and Leah simply nodded.
“Even I’m ready,” Wren chimed in.
“See?” Mark said to Erin. “You’re the only holdout.”
“She isn’t a holdout,” Leah told him. “She’s just annoyed.”
“Annoyed? Annoyed about what?”
“Lots of things.” Leah glanced at Erin and considered her next words. “But mostly that we aren’t doing things the way we used to.”
“Wrong,” Erin said childishly. “You know why I’m annoyed! And whose fault it is.”
“Oh, come on, Erin! That’s totally unfair. It isn’t anyone’s fault.”
“Is too.” Erin fumed. Then she turned sullen and muttered, “Stupid prude.”
Christy blinked in hurt surprise. I sat forward, ready for a fight.
“Don’t,” Leah said to me with real steel in her voice. “This isn’t about you. Okay? I’m dealing with it.”
I nodded and reluctantly sat back, although I was still tense.
Leah looked at Erin again. “This isn’t about… her… either. It’s about you.”
“Oh, really,” Erin sneered. “That’s who it’s about?”
“C’mon, Er, listen to yourself,” Leah said in a quiet, reasonable voice. “Think about what you’re doing, who you’re hurting.”
Erin looked at Christy and swallowed in anguish. Then she swept her eyes over the rest of us and set her jaw, exactly like I did when I knew I’d lost but didn’t want to admit it.
“Don’t do this,” Leah continued gently. “It isn’t worth it.”
“Is too,” Erin sulked.
Leah waited, but Erin didn’t have anything else to say. Instead, she shot to her feet, snatched her towel from the chair, and stomped away. Leah sighed and rose to follow her. The rest of us watched in stunned silence.
Erin disappeared into her bungalow and tried to slam the door, but Leah caught it and closed it gently instead. The pool pump whirred in the background, the loudest sound in the clearing.
“What the hell…?” Trip said at last.
“Sorry you guys had to see that,” Mark said. “They’ve been sniping at each other all week. And it isn’t about you at all, Christy.” He wanted to look at someone else, but he forced himself to keep his eyes on Christy. I probably wouldn’t have noticed if I hadn’t been so focused myself.
“If you’re sure…?” Christy said uncertainly.
“I’m sure.” He glanced at me but then picked up his wine cooler. The bottle was empty. He stared at it for a moment and then sighed audibly. “Well… I’m sober all of a sudden.”
“You can say that again,” Brooke agreed under her breath. Mark shot her a grin, and she flushed pink to the tips of her nipples.
That broke the tension for all of us.
“C’mon,” Mark added to Brooke, “I brought the stuff to make Alabamaslammas.”
“Hold on… what?”
“It’s a drink.” He said it properly, “Alabama Slammer.”
“What’s in it?”
“Aha!” Wren said before he could answer. “I was wondering why you brought Southern Comfort.”
Trip shuddered involuntarily.
“You’ll like these,” Wren said in an aside to Christy. “They have amaretto.”
“And sloe gin,” Mark agreed.
“With orange juice.”
“The lady knows her drinks!” he laughed. “Just another reason you’re awesome.” He stood and nodded toward the clubhouse. “C’mon, I’ll help you make ’em.”
* * *
The pink concoction was too sweet for my taste, but I wasn’t about to complain. Besides, Mark and Wren had mixed them strong, so Brooke already looked more relaxed, and Christy was working on it. Trip had opted for Jack Daniel’s instead of the “girly drink” (said under his breath, so only I could hear), and he was happy as well.
We also brought out several trays of hors d’oeuvres that Wren claimed she’d “thrown together” earlier. Her idea of quick and easy didn’t look like the cover of Gourmet magazine, but it was close enough. She’d made smoked salmon pinwheels, cherry tomatoes with feta and fresh basil, and curry chicken salad rolls that were surprisingly tasty. She’d also cut up the usual assortment of raw veggies for the bunny types.
The sun bent toward the horizon, and the heat of the day had begun to fade. It wasn’t quite cool, but it was a lot better than the week before.
“So, tell us about this game,” Mark said as we settled into our chairs once again.
No one looked at the bungalow where Erin and Leah were holed up, but their absence loomed large.
“What about it?” I said, more to buy time than anything else.
“Well, the name says a lot. Blindfold Blowjob Bingo. I mean, that’s pretty obvious. Erin told me the rules last night, but she was right, I… um… wasn’t really paying attention.”
“I wonder why,” Wren teased fondly.
“Hey, I’m only human,” Mark laughed. “Leah’s a major distraction all by herself. But she and Erin together…? No way I could pay attention with both of them… um… you know.” He shot a glance at Brooke, who blushed predictably.
“Oh, I know,” Wren said.
“And I can imagine,” Christy agreed.
Mark raised his cup and toasted his vindication. He drank and then nodded at me. “Sorry. I changed the subject again. You were about to tell us the rules…?”
“It’s been a while,” I hedged. “Leah and Erin probably remember more.”
“Yeah, but you can give us the basics.”
He wasn’t going to let me off on a technicality, so I thought back and tried to remember. The game itself was easy enough, but the rules were a bit harder. Besides, it had been three years.
“Okay,” I said at last, “I think I have it. First, we need poker chips or something.”
“Leah has them,” Wren said.
“Seriously?”
“Duh. This isn’t our first party, remember? I know you’re new, but try to keep up.”
“Be nice,” Christy warned her.
“Yes, dear.” Wren was mocking me for my standard reply, but Christy let it go.
“Better,” she said instead.
“Okay,” I said after a moment, “where was I? Right, poker chips… a different color for each guy. The women draw—”
“Erin’ll have to draw again if she gets one of yours,” Wren cut in.
I clamped down on my frustration, both for the interruption and her attitude. Erin hadn’t been off-limits in the game with our families, but Wren wasn’t so open-minded. And I suddenly realized that Erin had called Wren a prude, not Christy. Trip wasn’t any better, though, especially about anything other than regular group sex.
“Of course,” I said through a forced smile. “That goes without saying.” Still, I couldn’t hide my irritation, so I pursed my lips and waited.
Christy patted my hand, gentle but firm. You too. Be nice.
I sighed. Yes, dear.
Better.
“Anyway,” I continued, “poker chips. The women draw until they’re gone.”
“What if there are extras?” Christy asked.
I threw up my hands.
“Well,” she said stubbornly, “I want to know. Can I have them? The extras, I mean.”
“Oh, brother,” Wren sighed.
“There won’t be any extras,” Brooke explained. “Three guys, five rounds. Fifteen divided by five? Never mind. It’s math.”
“I knew you’d see it my way,” Christy said.
Brooke rolled her eyes in exasperation, and Wren laughed.