torture.
“You’re hilarious.”
I open my eyes. “Why?”
“Because you’re this big, strong, gorgeous guy with
all the swagger and confidence in the world—but secretly you’re
kind of a puss.”
“No, I’m not. Absolutely not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re scared of female emotion.
You’re scared of making a girl cry. Waaaah.”
I exhale loudly. “Can we please just write the
email? Seriously. I’ve already spent way too much of my time on
this.”
“This isn’t about Jen. This is about you learning a life lesson, Playboy. Clearly, growing up without a mom,
there was no one to teach you how to understand and communicate
with women. You need some tutoring.”
I feel instantly defensive—but quickly realize she’s
got a point. “You might be right about that,” I say. “I’ve never
thought about it that way.”
“Of course, I’m right. I’ve got four brothers and a
dad to teach me how to talk and think like a dude. But who do you
have to teach you how to talk and think like a chick?”
I purse my lips, considering. “My personal
assistant?”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Then no one.”
“Well, don’t you worry, honey. I’m here to save the
day. So let’s try this again.” She motions to the computer screen.
“Say what you really mean. Say it kindly, but say it clearly.”
I grumble, but I put my hands on my keyboard. “I’m
sorry if I gave you the wrong impression when we spoke the other
day,” I type. “I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship of any
kind with you.” I stop, waiting for Kat’s reaction, but she’s
stone-faced. I continue typing again. “In New York, I truly thought
we were both up for the same thing: a meaningless one-night stand.
That was probably a stupid assumption by me, given our history. In
fact, I was probably being insensitive by making that assumption. I
should have known your feelings might be involved. But mine
weren’t.” I pause and look at Kat. “Okay?”
She touches my cheek and assesses me with earnest
eyes. “You’re doing great.”
I’m floored by her sudden show of tenderness. I
swallow hard and turn back to my screen. But I can’t think. My
heart is suddenly pounding wildly.
“Go on,” she says. “Just tell the truth, whatever it
is.”
I take a deep breath. “The truth is,” I type, “I’m
interested in someone else.” Oh shit, my heart is racing. “Really,
really interested. I don’t know where things might lead with her,
or if she’s interested in me in return, but I’d like to find out.
And that means I can’t fuck it up by being a total douche and
continuing to pursue something with you.”
I look at Kat. Her mouth is hanging open.
She puts her hand on her heart.
“And, yeah,” I continue typing, “if you think I’m
talking about The Jealous Bitch, you’re right. She might be a
grenade that unpredictably explodes all over me, but that’s what I
like about her.”
I’m practically panting. Holy motherfucking
shit.
Before I’ve even turned my head to get a read on
Kat’s reaction, her lips are on mine and her tongue is in my mouth
and my hands are on her cheeks and her arms are around my neck and
we’re kissing the hell out of each other. She presses herself into
me and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, grasping at
her for dear life, whispering her name into her lips.
After several minutes, my phone pings on the table
and we begrudgingly pull away from each other, our faces on fire. I
look at my phone. It’s a text from Henn:
“Hey, dipshit. I can understand you wanting an
especially thorough eye exam, considering who your optometrist is,”
Henn writes. “But you and Kat need to get your asses down here
ASAP. Meet me on the casino floor near the elevator bank in
five.”
Chapter 9
Kat
I crawl into bed with my laptop and sigh with
happiness. Yeehaw, I’m finally gonna read Josh’s application,
without even the possibility of an interruption.
After Henn took my
“You’re hilarious.”
I open my eyes. “Why?”
“Because you’re this big, strong, gorgeous guy with
all the swagger and confidence in the world—but secretly you’re
kind of a puss.”
“No, I’m not. Absolutely not.”
“Yes, you are. You’re scared of female emotion.
You’re scared of making a girl cry. Waaaah.”
I exhale loudly. “Can we please just write the
email? Seriously. I’ve already spent way too much of my time on
this.”
“This isn’t about Jen. This is about you learning a life lesson, Playboy. Clearly, growing up without a mom,
there was no one to teach you how to understand and communicate
with women. You need some tutoring.”
I feel instantly defensive—but quickly realize she’s
got a point. “You might be right about that,” I say. “I’ve never
thought about it that way.”
“Of course, I’m right. I’ve got four brothers and a
dad to teach me how to talk and think like a dude. But who do you
have to teach you how to talk and think like a chick?”
I purse my lips, considering. “My personal
assistant?”
“Doesn’t count.”
“Then no one.”
“Well, don’t you worry, honey. I’m here to save the
day. So let’s try this again.” She motions to the computer screen.
“Say what you really mean. Say it kindly, but say it clearly.”
I grumble, but I put my hands on my keyboard. “I’m
sorry if I gave you the wrong impression when we spoke the other
day,” I type. “I’m not interested in pursuing a relationship of any
kind with you.” I stop, waiting for Kat’s reaction, but she’s
stone-faced. I continue typing again. “In New York, I truly thought
we were both up for the same thing: a meaningless one-night stand.
That was probably a stupid assumption by me, given our history. In
fact, I was probably being insensitive by making that assumption. I
should have known your feelings might be involved. But mine
weren’t.” I pause and look at Kat. “Okay?”
She touches my cheek and assesses me with earnest
eyes. “You’re doing great.”
I’m floored by her sudden show of tenderness. I
swallow hard and turn back to my screen. But I can’t think. My
heart is suddenly pounding wildly.
“Go on,” she says. “Just tell the truth, whatever it
is.”
I take a deep breath. “The truth is,” I type, “I’m
interested in someone else.” Oh shit, my heart is racing. “Really,
really interested. I don’t know where things might lead with her,
or if she’s interested in me in return, but I’d like to find out.
And that means I can’t fuck it up by being a total douche and
continuing to pursue something with you.”
I look at Kat. Her mouth is hanging open.
She puts her hand on her heart.
“And, yeah,” I continue typing, “if you think I’m
talking about The Jealous Bitch, you’re right. She might be a
grenade that unpredictably explodes all over me, but that’s what I
like about her.”
I’m practically panting. Holy motherfucking
shit.
Before I’ve even turned my head to get a read on
Kat’s reaction, her lips are on mine and her tongue is in my mouth
and my hands are on her cheeks and her arms are around my neck and
we’re kissing the hell out of each other. She presses herself into
me and I wrap my arms around her, pulling her close, grasping at
her for dear life, whispering her name into her lips.
After several minutes, my phone pings on the table
and we begrudgingly pull away from each other, our faces on fire. I
look at my phone. It’s a text from Henn:
“Hey, dipshit. I can understand you wanting an
especially thorough eye exam, considering who your optometrist is,”
Henn writes. “But you and Kat need to get your asses down here
ASAP. Meet me on the casino floor near the elevator bank in
five.”
Chapter 9
Kat
I crawl into bed with my laptop and sigh with
happiness. Yeehaw, I’m finally gonna read Josh’s application,
without even the possibility of an interruption.
After Henn took my
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