Page 25 of The Downside of Love
Lips scrunched, I answer, “Can’t say that I have.”
“What?” Ryan seems seriously offended. “But Ryan Reynolds is in it, and you get to see his naked chest.”
I take a bite of my pizza. “Yeah, that’s not a way to win me over with a movie. Couldn’t care less about Ryan Reynolds’s naked torso.”
“Okay, what about Sandra Bullock? She’s practically naked in this movie as well.”
“Now that I can get on board with.” We sit in silence, the movie playing in the background, neither of us really paying attention. My fingers itch to change the channel to the Rockies game, but I hold back. I’m a guest. I’m not in charge of the TV, even if Ryan isn’t paying attention.
“So you’re going to Rory’s place tomorrow?”
I swallow. “Yeah, after work. You have your date, right?”
“Saturday I do. But I have a whole bunch of shaving I want to do before then.”
Okay, seems like we’re that kind of friends now.
“Shaving, huh?”
She blows on her fingers again. “Yeah, there is a lot of prep that goes into dates that you guys don’t know about. You can slip on a T-shirt and call it a night. Girls have a whole checklist of musts that have to be done before we go out.”
“I guess so.” I take another bite. “I’ve never lived with a girl before, but do you all hang your bras and thongs everywhere?”
She chuckles and tilts her head in my direction. “Is my lingerie getting in your way?”
“Sometimes it’s hard to shut the bathroom door when I need to piss.”
She laughs some more. “You can move them if you need to, or just pee with the door open. Who cares at this point? It’s not like I haven’t seen a dick before. As you can see, I’m not very modest.” She gestures toward her barely covered breasts.
“Yeah, I’ve noticed.” I turn away from her and adjust in my seat. “It wouldn’t hurt for you to put on one of the multiple bras you have hanging around.”
“They’re wet. When it’s laundry day, I go braless. It’s easier that way. And any lingerie enthusiast will know you don’t put your delicates in the dryer, because it’s how they get ruined.”
Delicates. That’s one way to describe them. More like scraps of fabric.
“Ask Rory, she does the same thing.”
My pizza pauses halfway to my mouth. Thankfully Ryan is looking at her nails and misses the color drain from my face.
Fuck. I need to make sure I’m not at her place when that happens, because I won’t be able to survive “laundry day.”
“But she’s boring,” Ryan continues. “She only wears red lingerie.”
Errr . . . that’s boring?
Immediately my mind pulls up an image of Rory standing before me, her gorgeous locks smoothly falling over her shoulders, her slender body encased in red lace, her green eyes staring at me, waiting for my permission to climb onto my lap.As if she’dneedmy permission.
The image is torture, something I know will haunt me in my dreams tonight . . . and every night after.
Clearing my throat, I try to break the tension building inside me. “So does that mean I get to hang my boxer briefs along with your lingerie?”
“Have at it.” Ryan gestures down the hall. “We have plenty more places to hang them.”
Yeah, not going to fucking happen.
Ryan brushes off her nails and grabs a clear nail polish only to sit cross-legged and start applying the liquid with a tiny little black wand. “You know, I do worry about her.”
“About Rory?”
