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Back Losers: Part I Save as PDF
Chapters (58)
  1. Table of Contents
  2. Content Note
  3. A Note From The Author
  4. 1
  5. 2
  6. 3
  7. 4
  8. 5
  9. 6
  10. 7
  11. 8
  12. 9
  13. 10
  14. 11
  15. 12
  16. 13
  17. 14
  18. 15
  19. 16
  20. 17
  21. 18
  22. 19
  23. 20
  24. 21
  25. 22
  26. 23
  27. 24
  28. 25
  29. 26
  30. 27
  31. 28
  32. 29
  33. 30
  34. 31
  35. 32
  36. 33
  37. 34
  38. 35
  39. 36
  40. 37
  41. 38
  42. 39
  43. 40
  44. 41
  45. 42
  46. 43
  47. 44
  48. 45
  49. 46
  50. 47
  51. 48
  52. 49
  53. 50
  54. 51
  55. 52
  56. Acknowledgements
  57. Also By Harley Laroux
  58. About The Author

“How about you pour a little more wine in that mug and come to the couch,” she said. She laid her hand on my arm, squeezing my bicep slightly before she walked back to the living room. Okay, fine, she’d convinced me. I was going to do this aftercare thing even if it killed me.

I returned to the living room, where Manson was lounging on the couch and Jess had flopped down beside him, munching on her cookies. I gave him his wine and took the remaining side of the couch, sitting stiffly on the pristine white cushions. How could someone live with this much white furniture? I’d dirty it up just by looking at it.

“How much was today worth?” Jess said, taking a sip from her glass as she glanced between us. “That was at least a $1500 fuck, right?”

My post-nut clarity must have been broken, because I almost told her it was worth the cost of our cars and more. I had to gulp down a little more wine to drown those words before I said something I’d regret.

“What do you think, Lucas?” Manson asked. “Maybe four or five?”

I shrugged. “I’d say five. I’m feeling generous.”

“Five hundred?” she said excitedly.

“Five dollars,” I said, then quickly held my wine out of the way as she launched across the couch, swatting her hand at my head. I caught her wrists and pulled them down, hauling her onto my lap. “Hey, hey, watch it! I was joking, girl.”

“Almost made me spill wine on your couch,” Manson said, staring down at the crisp white cushions beneath him with a horrified expression. “I feel like if I get a stain on something in here, I’ll be cursed.”

“Oh, you will be,” she said. “My mom can detect a crumb buried in the carpet from ten yards away. I’ve seen her do it.” She sipped her wine, wiggling her feet slightly. She was a tense little ball on my lap, and now that she was there, I wasn’t sure what to do with her.

“Can your mom detect semen on a kitchen table?” I said, and Jess swatted my chest.

“You’ll both get the curse of a lifetime for that,” she said. To my surprise, she leaned across the couch to grab her cookies and the TV remote, then promptly settled back down on my lap. “I hope you like 15th century Gothic cathedrals because that’s what we’re watching.”