Page 20 of Badd Love
He patted the couch. "You can't watch the movie from over there."
"But I—"
He poured wine into a different, pre-used glass and held it out to me. "C'mon. I don't bite…in this context."
I rolled my eyes at the innuendo but didn’t otherwise acknowledge it—with Dane, it's best not to encourage him. "Sure, Dane, come on in, make yourself at home, help yourself to my wine and chips. Yes, yes, this is what I need. You know me so well." This was all said monotone.
He smirked at me. "You jest, I realize, but sometimes we don't actually know what we really need."
I arched an eyebrow at him. "He says to the woman with a degree in psychology."
"Oh, is this your office where you have your practice?"
I narrowed my eyes at him. "I wanted to be a researcher, not a therapist."
"Wanted, past tense? Not anymore?"
I sighed and sat beside him, finally taking the cup of wine. “You know it's not even noon?"
"Yeah, well, fuck it. YOLO or some shit, I dunno. Who fuckin' cares? Sometimes, we just need to day drink."
I sipped and watched as a hot young girl fresh out of grad school wafted adorably around her million-dollar Manhattan condo that she somehow afforded on a fashion magazine intern's non-salary. Oh, look at those dorky glasses, she's so ugly, she needs a hot, funny, charming guy to make her see her own self-worth, so she finally gets contacts so she can be attractive to anyone at all, because she's so ugly in thosespectacles, you ugly fat loser.
Fuck, I hate rom-coms.
I made it until our plucky heroine bumped her silicone G-cups into the square-jawed hunk's chest, tittering like a demented songbird.
“You actually like this shit?" I asked.
He frowned. "Fuck no. It's lame as hell. I thought you would."
"What, because I'm a chick, I have to watch romantic comedies and pine about the love life I don't have?"
He pulled a face. "Well…yeah?"
"Wow. Nice. Sexist fuck."
He nodded. "Cool, cool. So what do you want to watch?" He widened his eyes. “Please,pleasedon't say reality TV."
I putThe Bacheloron, just to fuck with him. "You barged into my place, jackass. You don't get to complain about my choice of entertainment."
He made it through a cocktail party and half a dozen confessionals before groaning. "The rom-com was better. Can we settle on something else? Golf? The Paint Drying channel? Adam Sandler movies?Saw Three?"
I frown at him. "You did not just put Adam Sandler in with that other shit, sir. No, you did not."
"What? He's not that funny."
"SACRILEGE!" I shouted.
"He's not! He's just himself in everything."
"And himself is fucking funny,DANE. It's not his fault you're a lame ass loser with shit taste in movies. You probably don't like Will Ferrell either."
"Anchormanis a classic."
"Fine. You can stay. But don't diss my boy Adam. Have you seen any of his newer, more dramatic stuff? He's a damn good actor."
Dane groaned. "Please god, no."
