Page 39 of Baker

“Panigale pussy. That’s what you ought to call it.” He gestured toward the six Italian race bikes. “Nothing compares.”

If he was right, and I feared he was, severing my ties with Andy was something I needed to do immediately.

I hoped hitting me in the head with a skillet wasn’t her reaction.

FIFTEEN - Andy

In celebration of my impending move, Holly and I sat at the kitchen table sharing our second bottle of wine while the twins slept. I’d slipped into a pair of my favorite sweats and a loose-fitting tee shirt for the event, and she wore pink plaid pajamas, which wasn’t surprising.

It seemed she always wore plaid. In my opinion, it was at least part of the reason why Hank left her. Plaid looked good on no one, regardless of how big their boobs were.

“How big was Hank’s Hankster?” I asked.

She choked on her wine. After wiping her mouth on the back of her hand, she gave me a puzzled look. “What?”

“His schlong. His dick. Cock. Meat stick. Whatever you want to call it.”

“Seriously?”

“Yeah.” I sipped my wine. “How big was it.”

“Normal sized, I guess.”

I scrunched my nose. “What’s normal sized?”

She took a drink of wine and then looked in the glass. “I don’t know. Like the size of a hot dog.”

“A hot dog?” I laughed out loud. “Like a normal hot dog? A Ball Park, or whatever?”

“Yeah,” she said. “A hot dog. Why?”

I held my laugh and gave her a serious look. “I don’t know how much experience you’ve got, but a hot dog dick isn’t normal.”

“It’s not?”

I cleared my throat. “Normal means standard or ordinary. Hot dog dicks are supposed to be between the legs of twelve-year-old boys, not men.”

“What’s normal, then?”

“How many guys have you had sex with?”

Her gaze dropped to the floor.

I rapped my knuckles against the top of the table. “Roughly. I don’t need an exact number.”

She continued to stare at the floor. After an awkward moment of waiting, I leaned onto the edge of the table. “Don’t tell me Hank’s it.”

She looked up. “Yeah.”

“Yeah? As in, yeah, Hank’s it?”

“Uh huh.”

“Holy crap,” I gasped.

“What?”

“You two started boning in high school.” I looked at her with eyes of disbelief. “He was your first, wasn’t he?”