Sweet Possession
Page 6

Just as I hang up from Joey, my phone beeps with an incoming text message.
Juls: NEW ORLEANS, SWEETS! Booking my flight now. There’s just the one leaving late afternoon on Friday, so you’ll have to close up early. Hope that’s doable.
Me: Totally doable. I’m so excited!
Juls: Me, too! I may have mentioned it to Brooke.
I slam my head back against the headboard. Seriously? Has she gone completely mental?
Me: You are out of your fucking mind.
Juls: It’ll be fun. And don’t worry about JoJo. I’ll handle him.
Me: Good. Cause I’m not.
I place my phone down and power on the iPad, letting go of that stress and grinning at the image that appears on the screen. It’s still the one of me, passed out after my first-ever sleepover in this bed.
I can’t believe I ever fought it.
Him.
Sleepovers.
Him.
Intimacy.
HIM.
Even though I acted like a complete idiot and tried to ignore every screaming thought in my head that said what we were doing was more than I was prepared to admit, I wouldn’t take it back. I will never regret the way I fell in love with Reese; I can’t. Every single second of it was worth it because it led us to this. And I’d go through eighty-five more days of complete torture to have him next to me, because he’s always been mine. And in ten more days, I’ll officially be his.
3
“Are you sure you wanna send that bag through security? What with all the sex toys you have tucked away in there?” Juls teases as Joey puts his suitcase on the conveyor belt. Billy conceals his smile behind his hand, turning a slight shade of pink.
Joey turns his eyes up to the monitor, watching as his delicates are scanned. “I doubt National Security gives two shits that I like to use a spreader bar.”
“Baby, really? Is that public knowledge?” Billy asks, grabbing his and Joey’s suitcases.
I bite back my laugh and join the three of them after retrieving my luggage. “There’s nothing sacred between the three of us, Billy. You should know that by now.”
“Especially when it pertains to sex,” Juls adds.
We all begin the walk through the terminal toward our gate. Reese and Ian left early this morning on their flight, so we’ll be catching up with them later on tonight. And, by some miracle, Brooke is late and keeping Joey blissfully ignorant at the moment; it might actually be in her benefit to miss the flight entirely. Juls thought it best to let the news of her crashing our weekend getaway ‘unravel organically’, as she so innocently put it. Organically? I’m not sure how organic it’s going to be watching Joey freak the fuck out in the middle of an airport. Because other than Maggie Carroll showing up and boarding our flight, Brooke Wicks is the only other person who could send my dear assistant into a shit-fit.
“This is going to be ahhhmazing,” Joey sings as he puts his luggage into the overhead compartment. Juls and I have settled into our seats behind the boys and my eyes keep darting to the front of the plane, even though I’m sure I’ll hear Brooke before I see her. “I hope you’re all aware we will be having separate bachelor and bachelorette parties.” Joey shifts his eyes between the three of us. “Baby, you’re with the boys.”
Juls and I both laugh as he sits down next to Billy. Then I sense it: the shift in the atmosphere, causing my back to go rigid in my seat. Juls must feel it, too, because she leans forward into the crack between the seats at that exact moment.
“JoJo, please don’t do anything that could get you kicked off this flight.”
He turns his head, gazing back at us with suspicion. “What? I’m not that inappropriate.”
“Hey, bitches. Who’s ready to party in the Big Easy?”
I see Brooke in my peripheral vision, not able to turn away from Joey’s face, which has tensed up considerably. He doesn’t even look in her direction. “You have got to be fucking kidding me,” he snarls between the seats before finally whipping his head around and greeting Brooke with what I can only assume to be anything but a smile. “Who the hell invited you?”
“Joey!” Juls snaps.
Brooke’s lip twitches into a conniving grin. “Will the three of us be sharing a bed? I’ve been told I’m an excellent little spoon.” She tucks her luggage away and ruffles Joey’s hair before taking her seat next to me. He grumbles under his breath, prompting Billy to reach up and fix his coifed do. “Who bottoms of the two of you, anyway?”
“Jesus, Brooke,” I say, just as Billy and Joey turn around in their seats. “There are other people on this airplane.”
“I hope your dildos got through airport security, since they’re going to be the only thing entering that mess of a vagina this weekend.” Joey points to Brooke’s lap, smiling after delivering his dig.
She flips him off, moving her finger closer to his face and prompting him to lean back. “If you want to enter a competition with me to see who can get the most dick over the next two days, bring it, bitch.”
“Battery operated doesn’t count, Brooke. Remember that,” Joey retorts.
I put my hands between them, breaking up the verbal battle. I glance to my left and lock eyes with Brooke. “It better not be like this between the two of you every day in the shop. I’m telling you right now, I’m not putting up with it. I’ll have enough stress on me next week as it is.”
“I can be civil,” Brooke states, feigning affection toward Joey. He rolls his eyes and turns around, entering quiet conversation with Billy, which I’m sure is revolving around the hot mess sitting next to me. Brooke offers me a genuine smile. “Thank you, by the way. You’re really helping me out here.”
“You’re welcome, but be warned. I don’t care that you’re my best friend’s sister; I will fire you if you and Joey can’t get along.”
She nods her understanding, buckling her seatbelt and prompting me to do the same. The flight attendants begin their safety demonstrations in the aisle as Joey continues to animatedly gesture to Billy.
Juls leans over me and taps her sister’s knee. “Do us all a favor and try not to torment him too much this weekend. Don’t make me regret inviting you to this.”
Brooke huffs and scowls in the direction of her sister. “Everyone needs to relax. Jesus Christ, you all act like I’m incapable of handing myself in public.”
Thankfully, at that exact moment, the flight attendant stops in front of our row with the cart of beverages, preventing a rebuttal from Juls and myself. “Would anyone like anything?”
“Liquor,” we all answer simultaneously. The flight attendant smiles and hands out mini-bottles of vodka which none of us waste any time in downing.
“All cell phones off, please. We’re about to take off.”
Everyone reaches into their pockets and messes with their phones. I notice the text message on my screen and open it with the same nervous excitement I always have when I see his name.
Reese: Eight more days, love. Get your ass here already.
Me: Hurrying. And you can do better than eight more days. Put that brain to work, handsome.
I power off my phone and tuck it away, relaxing against my seat. Eight more days that can’t get here soon enough.