Boyfriend Material by Alexis Hall EPUB & PDF – eBook Details Online
- Status: Available for Free Download
- Author: Alexis Hall
- ISBN: 1728206146
- Language: English
- Genre: LGBT Coming of Age Fiction, LGBT Romance, LGBT Humorous Fiction,
- Format: PDF/ePub
- Size: 4 MB
- Page: 432
- Price: Free
I’VE NEVER SEEN THE POINT of hen parties. Though given my
experiences of garden parties, dinner parties, and fancy dress parties, it
might be that I just don’t like parties in general. Which, in retrospect, might
explain why I spent so much of my party-boy years being miserable and
hating myself. Personal growth. I was nailing it.
I was also nailing Bridge’s hen do. Or rather her non-gender-specific
bird do, because she was never going to want her big prewedding bash to
exclude half her friends. Also, since she’d made me her maid of honour, it
would have meant excluding myself, which would have been weird. Even
if, on some level, I might secretly have preferred an evening at home with
my amazing barrister boyfriend.
My amazing barrister boyfriend who still felt like an amazing barrister
boyfriend after two whole years.
My amazing barrister boyfriend who—on account of the amazing
barrister part rather than the boyfriend part—was currently running late.
So there I was in the roped-off VIP area of an affordably swanky
cocktail bar wearing a crocheted vulva hat. A bespoke crocheted vulva hat
I’d commissioned from one of Bridge’s friends when I realised that
bachelorette-party genital merch skewed strongly in the direction of all
penis all the time. And, obviously, I could have just not had genitaliathemed decor at all, but then it wouldn’t have been a proper non-genderspecific bird do and that would have made Bridge sad. And making Bridge
sad was something I wanted to avoid both in my capacity as maid of honour
and in my capacity as her, y’know, friend.
James Royce-Royce plucked a dong-shaped lolly from the dong-shaped
lolly jar. It was the first time I’d seen him, or his husband James RoyceRoyce, without their newly adopted son in months. Their newly adopted
son who they had, inevitably, named James. Although to avoid confusion,
they just called him Baby J. “I must say, Luc,” he said. “I’m a little
offended that you went with commercially produced phallic sweeties rather
than asking for my contribution.”
Bernadette May, a relatively famous cookery book writer who Bridge
had gone through so many work-related disasters with that they’d become
friends out of sheer necessity, smouldered dismissively from across the
table. She was one of those people who could smoulder at anything—and
usually did. “That’s because your contribution would probably be a real
horse’s penis rolled in saffron and finished with gold leaf.”
“Whereas yours,” retorted James Royce-Royce, “would be a Victoria
sponge topped with marzipan willies.”
“Which is why”—I pulled my vulva more tightly over my head—“I
asked neither of you. This is our night to celebrate Bridget, not for you two
to have a schlong-themed cook-off.”
Bridge was sitting beside me, wearing a penis hat and, like all of the
guests, a T-shirt that, owing to a miscommunication on the phone with the
printers, read Bridge’s Bitches No Oliver I Think It’s Fine We’re Using It in
the Reclaimed Sense and Anyway It’s Too Late to Change.
“Actually,” she said, “I think a schlong-themed cook-off would have
been pretty cool.”
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