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“Since when did you start drinking vodka?” “Since you said you wouldn’t kiss me if I drank whiskey.”
“Put some clothes on, Penelope. My men are onboard and I don’t want to kill anyone else today.”
“What did Blake do?” “Pissed me off.”
I swallow. “So you killed him.” His palm presses harder into my stomach, and his chin comes to rest on my shoulder. “He was eyeing something up that doesn’t belong to him.”
One-morning-stands hurt.
“Be sure of what I want, make sure he’s on the same page, and…” My smile dims a few watts. “Don’t fall in love.”
“In all seriousness, don’t take it too seriously, all right? Men fuck without feelings all the time. Women can too.” I pull back, flushed from his vulgarity. “You’re a pioneer for the feminist movement, Matty.” He winks. “Yeah, yeah. I’m a pioneer for whatever will get me laid.”
“Share? You think I only want your pussy on Wednesday and Saturdays, or something?”
And yet, one stray tear has got me in a chokehold, wondering if shit like chocolate and hot water bottles will stop another from falling.
“All my other fuck buddies call me Penny.” Violence hits me like a lightning bolt. “And all your other fuck buddies will be six-feet-under if you mention them again.”
“And all I know is that Rafe called my wife and invited her to an impromptu sleepover in the middle of the fucking Pacific on a Monday night.”
“He means, he gets why Rafe is obsessed with you now. You talk almost as much shit as he does.”
