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“I was just trying to talk to you.” I was so not trying to talk to him. But now, we very much needed to discuss his back scrubbing needs and how I, as employee of the month, could meet them.
“Are you happy there, Jimmy, living in denial? Is the weather nice this time of year?”
What fresh hell was this?
“You know where you can shove the list. And if you need help, let me just fetch a rubber glove and some lube and I’ll be right with you.”
I tried to kick him back but my foot swung aimlessly, coming into contact with nothing but thin air. Screw him and his long legs.
Melted ice cream dripped off my spoon, onto my jeans. I scraped it up with a finger, licking it clean. This was why I couldn’t have nice things.
Ben said nothing and hid behind his own menu. Coward. We were through. I could never date a man who didn’t stand beside me in the face of mindless oppression. Also, he was just too tall, I’d have constant neck aches trying to get high enough to kiss the guy.
“I’m just going to snooze here for a while.” Wounded people were allowed to push their luck. Everyone knew that. “Wake me when the boot arrives, slave.”
“Oh my god, this soufflé is amazing. It’s like heaven in my mouth. Heaven, Jimmy, do you hear me?”
The too-sexy-for-words medical boot,
“Can we go back to the part where I’m in the right and you’re in the wrong? Personally, that was more fun for me.”
Ah, love. So lovely and shit.
