Page 8 of Taming Tyler Hayes
Ryan watched the screen as Amara’s lips moved but there was no sound. He could lipread her cursing and watched as she chaotically pressed buttons on the keyboard, finally unmuting herself.
“There we go!” she said. “I swear, I don’t understand how this automatically mutes every single time I pop on here with you.”
Ryan debated telling her for the eighth time that she probably had the app set to “mute upon entry”, but there was literally no point. He just smiled. “I swear, every time I think you can’t possibly get older, you’re like, ‘Hold my beer.’”
“Keep your shit up, kid, and you’ll be publishing this book yourself. And I’d straight-up murder a bitch for a beer right now.” She adjusted her screen so the camera tilted down, inadvertently giving Ryan a glimpse of her massive, pregnant cans.
“Jesus, Mar. Look at your tits. They’re huge!”
“Baylor! Behave, you perv. That’s the mother of my child.”
“Sorry, Jake. Didn’t know you were in the room!” he called loudly, blushing, as Jake leaned into the frame, kissed his pregnant girlfriend on the cheek, and stared into the camera. “Hey, Ryan.”
“Hey, Jake.”
“Awk-ward!” Amara smirked, as Jake left the room. “OK, he’s gone. Yes, they’re ginormous, as is every fucking thing else. I can’t even function. You should see my ass. It’s like a Sherman tank.”
“I mean, if you’re offering,” Ryan quipped, winking. “So aside from your huge tits and ass, things are good?”
She nodded. “Yeah, things are good. Been working on a massive freelance piece for a local clothing company that has the potential to turn into some steady work, so that’s been cool. Oh, and I’ve taken your book through its final proof and edit, so I’ll be sending that along shortly for you to review, and then we’ll set a release date and talk about some promotion options. I can’t believe we finished it. It’s so good, Ry. You’re gonna be blown away.”
“I’m sure I will be. I’m blown away by everything you write.”
“Stop kissing my ass, Baylor.”
“You know what? Start kissing mine, K? Just trying to give you a compliment.”
“Sorry. I’m moody as fuck. I’m so uncomfortable. This kid is like, doing barrel rolls in my uterus twenty-four seven. I can barely sleep.”
“How much longer until it, you know, comes out?”
“Until it comes out? What are you, 12? You mean until I give birth to him, my son?” She laughed. “I’m due at the beginning of January.”
“Sorry. Well, you’re getting close. Just a couple more months.”
“Yeah, easy for you to say. Shove a beach ball up your shirt for the next two months and let me know how it goes. You know I’ve pissed myself three times this week? Three times, Ry.”
Ryan made a face. “I didn’t, uh, need to know that. But, um…that sucks?”
“Ugh, whatever. Rant over. So, how’s my bestie? I haven’t heard from him in about a week, minus the occasional text. I’m assuming he’s busy. He’s out in Cali now, right? Anaheim?”
“Yeah, they just played last night. We’ve got a break for a few days and they’ve got a game in LA tonight, so I’m flying out there in a few hours to watch him. We, uh…” Ryan paused, unsure how much he wanted to divulge to a very pregnant and overly emotional Amara right now. “Yeah. He’s good. We’re…good. It’s all good.”
Amara frowned. “Yeah, that’s real convincing, Ry. I can read your lyin’ ass like a book. What’s going on? Are you two OK?”
He looked away from the screen. “No. No, we’re…not OK.”
Concern washed over her face. “What do you mean? Ryan, what’s going on?”
“I didn’t…fuck, I really didn’t wanna lay this on you right now. You’ve got your own shit to worry about. The last thing you need to worry about is our homodrama.”
“Ryan? The highlight of the past three days for me was rolling my fat ass into my car, waddling into the grocery store while trying not to piss myself for the fourth time this week, and getting super excited because my favorite tortilla chips were back in stock, OK? I am living for your homodrama right now. I miss you guys so much. So much. Life…isn’t the same without you two, and it kinda sucks sometimes. You two asshats kept things interesting, that’s for sure. Not to mention, I worry about you both constantly, so lay it on me. What’s up?”
“It’s…bad,” was all he said.
“What does that mean?”
“He’s fucking up big time. He’s told you about TK, Travis Kadin, right?”