Priest_by_Sierra_Simone 3

“…invitation only,” he said. “I’ve heard rumors of it for years, but it
wasn’t until I got the letter that I thought it was actually real.”
“Are you going to go?” Aidan was speaking quietly too.
“Fuck yes, I’m going.”
“Going where?” I asked.
“You wouldn’t care, priest boy.”
“Is it the invitation-only Chucky Cheese? I’m so proud of you.”
Sean rolled his eyes, but Aidan leaned in. “Maybe Tyler should know
about it. He probably needs to work off a little excess…energy.”
“It’s invitation only, dick-hole,” Sean said. “Which means he can’t go.”
“It’s supposed to be like the world’s best strip club,” Aidan continued,
unfazed by Sean’s insult. “But no one knows what it’s called or where it is,
not until you’re personally invited. Word is that they don’t let you come until
your annual clears a million a year.”
“Then why is Sean getting invited?” I asked. Sean, although three years
older than me, was still working his way up through his firm. He made a very
healthy salary (fucking incredible, from my standpoint) but he was nowhere
near a million dollars a year. Not yet.
“Because—douchenozzle—I know people. Being connected is a more
reliable form of currency than a salary.”
Aidan’s voice was a little too loud when he spoke. “Especially if it gets
you choice puss—”
“Boys,” Dad said automatically, not looking up from his phone. “Your
mother is here.”
“Sorry, Mom,” we said in unison.
She waved us off. Thirty-plus years of four boys had made her immune to
pretty much everything.
Ryan sloped into the room, mumbling something to Dad about wanting the
car keys, and Sean and Aidan leaned closer again.
“I’m going next week,” Sean confided. “I’ll tell you everything.”
Aidan, younger than me by a couple years and still very much a junior in
the business world, sighed. “I want to be you when I grow up.”
“Better me than Mr. Celibacy over here. Tell me, Tyler, you got carpal
tunnel in your right hand yet?”
I tossed a throw pillow at his head. “You volunteering to come help me
out?”