Smalls and Racer exchange looks.
"He's not in a good mood," Smalls says, ignoring my question.
"He was in a good mood until he found out about the primer. You have to admit, if this happened two days ago, he would be tossing cinder blocks at innocent workers."
"Cinder block-tosser for sure," Smalls confirms with a nod of his head.
Irritated with their little conversation, I say, "What the hell are you two talking about?"
"Oh, come on, when was the last time we had a Little Debbie date? I haven't suckled on her sugary teet in so damn long because you've been in a bitchy mood." Racer pokes my shoulder.
"Yeah, you've been a real bitch," Smalls tacks on.
Staring between my two friends, I cross my arms over my chest. "I'm the bitch? When you two are crying over not sitting around like a couple of gossiping hens after work and partaking in lard-filled treats?"
They sit there for a second and think over my words. Racer looks up at me and with a straight face says, "They're not all lard-filled. Cosmic Brownies, Nutty Bars, PB Crunch Bars, and Fig Bars are lard free and just as tasty." Racer hops off the table and presses his hand against my arm. "Seriously, dude, do you need to talk to us? Vent a little? What can we do to help?"
Smalls grabs my other shoulder and adds, "What can we do to bring back our Little Debbie dates?"
Christ. I run my hand over my face and step back from the two large men closing in on my space. "I've just been . . . " What have I been? Stressed? Not really. Upset? Not so much. Irritated? Maybe a little. "I've been irritated with things."
"What things?" Racer presses. "Your mom?"
"What? No. Why would you ask about her?"
Racer shrugs timidly. "She's one of your hot-button issues. Didn't know if she was the cause."
"No." I shake my head. "I can't remember the last time I talked to her. This has nothing to do with my mom." My phone buzzes in my pocket and I reach for it, hoping it's Carlos telling me when he will have primer back on the job site.
"Then who is this about?"
I open the text message and my irritation grows.
Emma: Soooo . . . are you opposed to having Logan over for dinner as well? We have some studying to do and I kind of invited him. I hope you're not mad.
Fucking Logan. That kid. I inwardly roll my eyes. After the rocky few days I've had with Emma, I was hoping to have this night with her to repair our friendship. I still feel on edge around her and a night of joking around, making a meal together, could have helped bandage some of the awkwardness between us. But now . . .
Logan.
Jesus.
"Uh, I'm going to guess your bitchy pants is due to . . ." Racer leans over and looks at my phone, "Emma. Am I right?"
"Who's Emma?" Smalls leans over as well, trying to catch a glimpse of my phone. I swear they're like two nosey little sisters I can't shed.
"Emma is his roommate; I told you about her. The hot nurse we have yet to meet." Turning to me, Racer asks, "When are we going to meet her?"
Knowing they're not going to give up this conversation, I capitulate. "I got in it the other night with Emma. We were having a good time, looking at a Playboy-"
"That's hot," Racer says.
"And I don't even know how it came up, but we started talking about Sadie."
In sync, both Racer and Smalls cringe and say, "Damn."
"Yeah, it didn't go over well, I ended up snapping at her and ending the night abruptly. I then proceeded to evade talking to her for a week, hating every second of it, but I was so damn mad at what she said. And being the not so mentally healthy individual I am, I clearly had no idea how to fix the situation once I went silent on her."
"I'm afraid to hear, but what did she say?" Smalls asks.
I look around the house and notice everyone is focused on their work. "She said I wasn't the right man for Sadie, that we weren't meant to end up together. Honestly, I don't think anyone should have an opinion on the matter beside Sadie and myself. It pissed me off that she so easily made such a shitty statement."
Racer and Smalls both exchange glances with each other. It almost seems like they're trying to gain the courage to say something, but I stop them before they ruin our friendship.
"I suggest you keep your opinions to yourself." I let out a long breath and grab the back of my neck.
"Fair enough." Racer shifts in place, his hands slipping in his pockets. "Since your attitude has brightened slightly, I'm going to guess you worked things out?"