Oddly enough, pranks had been the foundation of their relationship. I'd missed the details, but every once in a while, the group liked to take a trip down memory lane.
Her lips curved like a cat with its cream. "You have no idea how much fun I'm having with this." Jumping into action, she pulled her phone out of her purse and set it down on the table, tapping the screen a few times and pulling up a text conversation between her and Thatch. "Read these."
I foolishly took the phone from where it sat and started scrolling.
Cassie: Naked Dinner tonight? I'm horny and need to be stuffed full of your giant cock. Pretty please? With cherries and whipped cream and a naked Cass spread across the kitchen table?
Thatch: Fuck, Cass. That got my cock hard, instantly.
Cassie: So, that's a yes?
Thatch: That's a FUCK YES. GET NAKED. I'M LEAVING WORK NOW.
Cassie: But … it's only noon, honey.
Thatch: I DON'T GIVE A FUCK. NAKED LUNCH. GET NAKED, CRAZY. DADDY'S COMING HOME.
Cassie: I have the best Daddy in the whole wide world.
So horrified I didn't think I could speak, I shoved the phone at Georgia.
"Uhhh … " Georgia muttered once she read through the same conversation I'd just choked back down in the form of vomit. "I really could've gone my whole life without knowing you call Thatch ‘Daddy.'"
"That big tall drink of motherfucking water could be my daddy any day of the week." Dean sighed and then pointed at Cassie. "You are one lucky bitch. Don't ever forget that."
I laughed. "So … is naked lunch code for a brainstorming session for baby names?"
Cassie smirked. "Nah. Naked lunch is code for Fuck my brains out, Daddy."
"Why did you make me read that?" Georgia asked, but the smile on her face contradicted the admonishment in her voice. "Now I've got all kinds of weird shit floating around in my head."
Cassie cackled. "God, I love you, Wheorgie. You always make my day." She swiped the screen a few more times and pulled up a different section of the conversation.
"Here. This is what I meant for you to read."
None of us reached for the phone.
"Oh, for fuck's sake. Stop being little bitches." Cassie shoved it toward me.
Georgia and Dean scooted around and leaned over my shoulders so we could read at the same time.
Thatch: What do you think about Liam?
Cassie: That reminds me of this model I photographed about four years ago.
Thatch: *growls* Never mind.
Cassie: What? It was just some random model I took photos of.
Thatch: Did you fuck him?
Cassie: Yeah … we probably shouldn't use that name.
Thatch: Benjamin, but Benny for short.
"Benny?" Georgia shrieked. "Are you fucking kidding me right now? That's practically my name."
"Relax. That was Thatch's idea, not mine," Cassie comforted.
When Georgia's eyes went back to the phone, Cassie mouthed, "Front-runner."
I shook my head, and Dean chortled into his mimosa.
Cassie: *singing* She's got electric boobs and a Mohawk too … Buh-Buh-Buh-Bennie and the Jets … .
Thatch: "She's got electric boots a mohair suit."
Cassie: Those are not the lyrics.
Thatch: Yes. They. Are. Google it. And Benjamin is out now. You just ruined it.
Thatch: What about Max?
Cassie: When I was in fifth grade, I had a gym teacher named Max. He must've had 100 moles on his body, and his chest hair always peeked above the neckline of his shirt. God, I'm getting nauseated just thinking about it.
Thatch: Fuck. Never mind. What about Declan?
Cassie: Awwwww, I'm picturing this little leprechaun with a pot of gold now!
Thatch: Jesus, Cass.
Cassie: We could dress little Declan up in a green suit and green hat!!!
Thatch: NO.
Cassie: Thatcher …
Thatch: No. Give me some name ideas since you just ruined all of mine.
Cassie: My top three: Walter. Kanye. Channing.
Thatch: Are you high off pickle juice again? I mean, seriously, Kanye?
Cassie: I thought Kanye Kelly was a kick-ass name.
Thatch: Yeah. No way, Crazy. No fucking way.
Thatch: I love you, honey. I really do. But I'm getting worried our child will be nameless.
Cassie: What about Seaman?
Thatch: Pretty sure that's what got us here trying to pick out baby names.
Cassie: Not SEMEN, but Seaman. Little Seaman Kelly … I think it's got a certain quality to it, honey.
Thatch: Yeah. A spooge-like quality. I can't continue this conversation with you right now or else I'm just going to start beating my head against my desk.
Cassie: Naked Dinner tonight?
Thatch: I'll bring the SEMEN.
Georgia's nose scrunched up. "Seaman? Really, Cass?"
Cassie grinned. "Hilarious, right?"
I nodded. "Not gonna lie, I thought it was brilliant."
Dean grimaced. "If you name your child Kanye Kelly, I will scratch your eyes out like a feral cat."
Cassie laughed. "Fierce words, diva."
He nodded with raised eyebrows.
"Well, will you promise to take care of little Kanye Kelly because his mother won't be able to see worth a sneakers without her eyeballs?"
Dean's head tilted to the side. "Huh? Sneakers?"
"It's her replacement word for s-h-i-t," Georgia explained on a whisper.
"You realize the baby can't spell yet, right?" I asked with amusement.
"Considering your kid is doing advanced calculus at the age of six, I think you might be wrong. My baby could be figuring out a way to cure cancer inside the womb right now for all we know."
Georgia burst into laughter. "Yeah. That's not what a baby made by Cassie and Thatcher is doing right now, I know that with certainty."
Cassie glared, but Georgia held up a finger and went on. "Scheming? For sure. Plotting? Yep. But finding a cure for cancer? Nope. Not happening."
Cassie's ice-cold stare melted into a grin.
Dean downed the rest of his drink in one swig and signaled for the waitress to bring another.
"What's your deal?" Georgia asked, twirling a finger in the direction of his glass.
"I'm in fucking New Jersey," he whispered like the words tasted foul.
"Oh, come on!" Georgia said with a laugh. "You took the day off. My husband is essentially paying you to be here."
"Well, of course, you like it," he dismissed. "You live here now. You didn't have to sit next to a shirtless man on the train who smelled like a decaying rabbit."
Cassie covered her mouth, mumbling from behind her hand, "Well, that's graphic."
"Trust me," Dean said with a sigh. "The commute is that awful."
Cassie must have noticed the look on my face. "You do it every day. Is it really as bad as the drama queen says, Win?"
I looked from her face to the others' and back again, admitting, "I don't know about the dead rabbit, but it's not great."
Georgia's eyes softened sympathetically.
"I'm actually thinking about moving over here."
"Oh my God!" Georgia bounced in her seat as Dean made a face of disgust. "You could get a house close to Kline and me! We'd be able to help out with Lex if you needed too!"
Cassie rolled her eyes at Georgia's enthusiasm.
I reached for Georgia's hand and gave it a squeeze. "Thanks. I'm not sure if I could afford a house near you guys, though."
"It's not-"
"It's a fudging mansion," Cassie cut her off.
I started to go on, but I stopped talking when the waitress set down our plates. Before I could manage the first bite of my chicken salad, my phone pinged on the table with a text notification. Wes's name flashing across the screen with the words, Wanna do a late night in the office tonight?
Cassie snatched the phone from the table before I could stop her.
"‘Do a late night in the office'?" she asked with a sly grin. "Hmm … A late night … in the office … with Wes? What does that mean exactly? I'm probably going out on a limb here, but is do a late night code for getting fucked on Wes's desk?"
I rolled my eyes and grabbed my phone from her.
"Holy s-h-i-t!" Georgia exclaimed. "Are you and Wes having s-e-x?"
I took the largest bite of my chicken salad that I could manage and then proceeded to gesture toward my mouth and shrugged.
"You have got to be kidding me," Dean announced. "You are boning the delicious, mysterious, hotter-than-the-sun Wes Lancaster? I'm literally eating lunch with the three biggest bitches in the tri-state area right now."
We all three giggled at that.
"Seriously. Why are you taking all of the hot ones off the market?"
"Kline, Thatch, and Wes like pussy," Cassie teased. "You like cock, remember?"
Dean grinned. "I do like cock. Love it, actually."
The woman at the table across from us put her hands over her daughter's ears. I tried my best to give a nonverbal apology, but she was probably going to want to keep them covered.