Read Online The Valentine Date: Long Distance, Billionaires and Former Bad Boy's Collection by Mel Ryle, N.K. Pockett, Ashley Winters - Free Book Online Page B

how neither of us owned the movie, we had to turn to the internet.  I actually found it on Netflix, but Will didn’t have that, so he had to find some other website that wouldn’t buffer every ten seconds.
    “Remember that I’m not actually in the room with you, so you’ll have no one to hug when you get scared,” Will said, now on Skype, when I jumped at a part in the movie.
    I scrunched my nose at him.  “Hardy har.  As long as there aren’t any snakes, I think I’ll be okay.”
    Will smirked.  “Are you sure you don’t want to watch Snakes on a Plane?”
    I gave him a flat look.  “No.”
    “Are you sure?”
    I took a bite out of my mac and cheese and shook my head.  “No way.  That is one movie you will never get me to watch.”
    Will took a bite out of his own mac and cheese, his gaze thoughtful and distant, like he was imagining a scenario in which he would actually get me to watch Snakes on a Plane.  There wasn’t one.  “What if I held your peanut butter hostage?” he asked.
    “I’d steal your wallet and go buy myself another jar,” I retorted.  “And then I wouldn’t talk to you for a year because that is so uncalled for.”
    Will chuckled.  “Damn, I thought that would have worked.”
    I stuck my tongue out at him.  “Yeah, well, you were wrong.”
    We were silent for a few minutes while we ate our dinners and watched the movie.  We actually succeeded in getting the movie perfectly in sync, which I thought was pretty freaking amazing.  Are you aware how hard it is to press play at the exact same time?  So difficult we almost never succeeded.
    “Hmm, you know what I could really go for right now?” I asked while a particularly stupid character went outside in the dark all alone without a weapon to protect herself from a supernatural evil that was obviously lurking in the shadows. 
    “What?”
    “Chocolate.”  I sighed.  “It’s Valentine’s Day, and I haven’t had any chocolate.  How wrong is that?”
    “Hold on,” Will murmured, shifting to grab something from his nightstand.  I watched as he did so, gaze latching on the three framed photographs sitting on top of it.  There was one when he a kid and playing catch with his dad, one with me while we were at my house during his first full summer there, and one with our group of friends during the last Fourth of July.  I smiled faintly and then glanced down at my wrist, which was still decorated with the friendship bracelet Will made me.  It was significantly dirtier and more worn down than when I first received it, but, regardless, I still wore it every day.  Will did the same, from what he told me.
    “Here we go.”
    I pressed my lips into a straight line when Will collapsed onto his bed again, a bag of Hersey kisses in hand.  “You’re gonna give me some of that, right?” I asked.
    Will popped one into his mouth.  “Nope.”
    I gave him an unimpressed look while he closed his eyes and ate his Hersey kiss in the most dramatic way possible.  I tell him I was craving chocolate and then he goes and does this.  That was a low blow, even for him.  “Dyer, may I remind you that there’s no sex in the cell?” I said, an amused smile at my lips.
    Will’s eyes opened, and the dramatics immediately fell away.  “No,” he said.
    “No, what?  That I can’t remind you?”
    Will rolled his eyes at me and ate another Hersey kiss, this time without acting like it was the love of his life.  “Will that term ever go away?” he muttered, more to himself than to me.
    “No,” I informed him.  “We’re going to be eighty years old, and I’ll still look over at you and say, ‘Dammit, Dyer, how many times do I have to tell you that there’s no sex in the cell?’”
    Will looked like he was about to answer, but then one of the characters let out a horrendous scream, and, for a moment, our conversation was forgotten.  “Wait, who the hell just died?” he asked.
    “I don’t know.  I was too busy