Page 36 of Before It Was Love

“Is that the excuse you’re going with? I’m a guest in your home and therefore we can’t get horizontal?”

I chuckle. “Get horizontal?”

“What terminology do you prefer? Bang? Bone? Boink? Hump? Nail? Screw? Shtupp? Smash? Shag? Ball? Rut? Score? Fuck?”

“Did you memorize every word for sex in the dictionary?”

“How old do you think I am? I used the internet.”

I need to get off the topic of Sophia and sex terms. The word fuck coming out of her mouth was enough for me to get hard. I grit my teeth and order my cock to calm down. No one is having sex.

“I’m sorry.”

She rolls her eyes. “And you think I’ll accept your apology because you made me my favorite breakfast.”

I shrug. “It’s worked before.”

She frowns. “When I was sixteen and you accidentally washed my white t-shirt with your brand-new never been washed before dark blue jeans. This is different.”

“How?”

She pauses, and I worry she won’t answer. “You didn’t hurt my feelings when you ruined my white t-shirt.”

Crap. Hurting Sophia is the last thing I want to do. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings.”

“It doesn’t matter if you meant to or not, you did.”

“Of course. Sorry.”

“Will you stop saying you’re sorry?”

“Well, I am sorry. I’m sorry I kissed you. It was a mistake.”

“I am not a mistake!”

“Not you, me…” I sputter but she’s not listening.

“You want to see a mistake? I’ll show you a mistake. This is how you make a mistake.” She picks up her French toast and throws it at me. It lands with a splat on my t-shirt. “Asshole.”

She jumps out of her chair and marches to the door.

“You don’t have a car. I’m supposed to give you a ride to work,” I call after her.

“I’ll find my own ride, asshole,” she says and slams the door.

I grab my keys and rush after her. By the time I reach her, she’s hightailing it down the driveaway. I chase after her in my truck. “Get in.”

“Sorry. Can’t. My mom taught me never to get into a car with strange men.”

“I’m not a stranger.”

“No, you’re the man who can’t decide what he wants. Let’s kiss the girl. No, let’s say the kiss was a mistake. Back and forth. Back and forth. I think I have whiplash.”

“I can drive you to the hospital.”

She glares at me. “I wasn’t being literal.”

“You can’t walk all the way to the brewery. You’ll ruin your shoes.”

---