Page 16 of Texts From My Exes
I shoved the thought away before it could turn into action.
“Let’s just watchFriends,” I said casually.
Because in less than a week, the last thing she’d be thinking about while sitting next to me on this couch…
…would be Ross and Rachel.
Game on.
“Are you sure? You seem pretty fired up. Your nose is doing the thing.”
I rolled my eyes. “My nose does not do the thing.”
“It does,” she argued, tapping it with her finger before cupping my chin.
“I know you hate being touched, and I know I just poked your manhood.”
I glared. “You didn’t poke it—you ran it over with a lawnmower set to the wrong height and annihilated all the grass.”
She scrunched her nose. “Yeah, that too. It’s just that?—”
She stopped.
Wait. Why was she getting serious?
“Never mind. This dating-and-going-viral thing has my brain scrambled.” She waved it off. “Let’s watchFriends. I deserve it after that disastrous date. Then tomorrow, I’ll focus on my update video—explain all the things that went wrong, and why ‘the one that got away’ was a good choice. Maybe a nice zoologist or marine biologist could exist in his future?”
I rubbed my nose—it suddenly itched like hell. “Yeah. Maybe the guy just… really needs to not open his mouth.”
“Yeah, that too. So—what’s the next date according to the rankings?”
That actually made me smile. “You’ll want earplugs. And to be fair, I really do think he’s smart… he just misplaces words in sentences.”
She grabbed a pillow and smacked me with it. “So—he’s an entitled jackass?”
I grinned. “There it is. Good word placement. Solid sentence structure. You got the meaning across and everything.”
Before I knew it, she was smacking me harder.
I caught the pillow, grabbed her by the waist, and rolled her onto her back on the couch.
“Stoppppp!” she shrieked, laughing.
“Never!”
She hooked her feet behind my ass and tugged me closer.
With a groan, I lifted her—her legs still wrapped tight around me.
Her laughter faltered. She gulped, staring at my mouth.
“Rule breaking,” she whispered. I wasn’t sure if she was telling me, or herself.
Calmly—too calmly—I leaned in and murmured, “Yes, well… us asexuals have to get off somehow. Apparently, I just break rules.”
Slowly, I let her slide down my body until her feet hit the floor.
I yawned, pretending I wasn’t having a heart attack. Or an internal meltdown. Or both.
