Page 3 of You Again
Chapter 2
Dash~
Women were evil.
Case in point, this man-hating redhead daring to talk to me about how men sucked when I just barely escaped getting arrested for kicking Glen’s naked ass in Whitney’s apartment.
I knew I worked a lot and had a tendency to get lost in my work when I was working on a new project. I knew this. So, I had set my alarm to force me to stop working and had gone over to Whitney’s to surprise her with an early dinner and night out.
Surprise was right.
The surprise had been walking into her apartment-because after a year, why wouldn’t I have a key-and hearing sounds coming from her bedroom that should have only been made with me.
I had paced her living room, trying to convince myself that she was just masturbating, and the male grunts had been from the porn she’d been watching. When I couldn’t deny the obvious any longer, I had turned that goddamn doorknob and had walked in on my worst fears confirmed.
Whitney had been laying on her bed, legs spread, while her fucking gym trainer’s white ass had been pumping into her from above. I had lost my shit, pulled Glen from her body, and had beaten the shit out of him until Whitney had threatened to call the police.
And to think I thought she could possibly beThe One.
I had hit the first bar I saw once the red haze of rage had dissipated and all to hear some woman start talking about how men sucked.
Fuck that shit.
Red-because I didn’t know her name-was growling like a rabid dog. “If men treated women with respect outside of the bedroom, then maybe we wouldn’t feel so used inside the bedroom when you wanted to roleplay,” she snapped. “Ever thought of that?”
“Roleplay?”Wasshe out of her mind?“When was the last time you sucked dick without the poor sucker having to beg for it?” I scoffed. “And you think you guys are up for roleplaying? You’re delusional.”
Her green eyes were blazing with hate. Any other time, I could appreciate that she was fucking stunning. She had dark auburn hair, green eyes, and alabaster skin. There was a smatter of freckles over her petite nose, and her lips were sexy enough to make a man beg for a blowjob. However, they left a lot to be desired right now as she spewed her misguided hate my way.
Men were not the enemy here. Women were.
As for her body, I couldn’t tell much because her movements were limited to leaning close enough to me to snarl and chomp at my arguments, but she looked to be slim. She didn’t have a huge rack underneath her pale-yellow blouse, but there was enough to fit in my hands or mouth-wait. I meant,someman’s hands or mouth. Certainly not mine.
“Well, maybe if men would help wash a dish, we’d have the energy to be the sex goddesses you obviously need,” she shot back before flagging the bartender down. The man wisely rushed to replace the shots of tequila we had taken earlier. I wasn’t big on shots, but the whiskey I’d been drinking hadn’t been doing the job. So, when the bartender placed the shot in front of me, I had taken it.
“We don’t need sex goddesses,” I clarified. “We just need you to fucking communicate.”
“We do!” she insisted.
Before I could explain that they don’t, we toasted our shot glasses, and tossed them back. I knew I needed to stop after this one, but like hell would I look like a pussy in front of this woman. Especially, watching her finish off her Bud Light and sliding it across the bar like a pro for the bartender to replace.
“Bullshit,” I said, getting back to the topic at hand. “We ask you guys what’s wrong and you automatically say ‘nothing’, then get pissed because we believe you or can’t figure it out for ourselves. Just tell us what the fuck’s wrong. We’re not goddamn mind readers, you know.”
“Why bother?” she countered. “It’s not like you guys really care about what’s bothering us.”
“See? That’s such bullshit.” Of course, we cared. I did every fucking thing I was supposed to. I remembered anniversaries. I bought flowers for no reason. I might have been neglectful when I got caught up in a new project, but I made up for it damn it. “We wouldn’taskif we didn’t care.”
She pfft’ed me.
She actually pfft’ed me.
“You only ask topretendto give a shit,” she said accusingly.
I downed the fresh glass of whiskey placed in front of me. “Then why be with you if we don’t care?”
Red jumped down from her barstool in triumph. “Exactly!” However, her victory was ruined as she stumbled a bit and I had to wrap my arm around her to keep her from face planting.
And I did a great job of ignoring how good she felt in my arms.
