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Did he just say my face is a boner-killer? I have so had it with assholes tonight.
“A mistake becomes a choice when you make it more than once. Looks like maybe you should’ve thought about the consequences before you made yours.”
“I didn’t want you to be this nice.” He lets go of my wrist, and his eyes slide closed. I don’t know if I misheard that, or misunderstood it, or if it’s supposed to make any kind of sense at all.
“You’re not a boner-killer. You got hit on by the damn Uber driver with me sitting right next to you. That has to tell you something about your appeal to the opposite sex.”
“Like he wants to hold your hand.” She pauses, her smile widening at my eye roll. “And shove it down the front of his pants.”
“I haven’t showered since yesterday, so I have one of those if you feel like dessert.” I slap a palm over my mouth. “Oh my God. Pretend I didn’t say that.” A slow smirk spreads across Bishop’s face. “First you tell me you’re a swallower, and then you offer me up your pussy for dessert? When I’m ninety years old and senile, I’ll still remember this conversation.”
“Everyone has a demon or two, Stevie. You just gotta learn how to live with them and find other people who think all your good parts outweigh the bad.”
I’m way past wanting to claim the pussy. I want to claim the whole woman.
“Because if anyone should be your boyfriend, it’s me, not that shit-for-brains ass clown.”
“I’m in love with her, you stupid fuck!” I shout.
“I love her, and you’re the reason she isn’t talking to me!”
“You gonna stand in my way with Stevie?” “Not if you’re what she wants.” The doors slide open at his floor, and he takes a step out into the hall, holding his hand over the sensor. “But if you break her heart, I’m going to break you.” “I’d let you.” “Glad we’re finally on the same page.”
