Page 63 of Bridesmaid Undercover
I grimace. “He fucking said that to you?”
She places her hand on my forearm. “With pride, Hardy. He said it with pride.”
“Oh fuck, licking a cat? Okay, I can see why he wasn’t the guy.”
“That’s not even the worst part,” she says.
“Licking a cat isn’t the worst part?” I ask incredulously.
She slowly shakes her head. “Oh no…I didn’t mention how he also liked gnawing on his cat’s paws, but we’ll move past that for the thing that really tipped the scales for me. For some reason, he started discussing female genitalia and how it was so complex and not fair to men to have to learn how to pleasure a woman properly.”
I feel my mouth fall open. “He didn’t fucking say that.”
Everly slowly nods again, as if sharing the year’s biggest piece of gossip. “Yup, he did. Said he left it up to the woman to seek her own pleasure.”
I slowly drag my hand over my forehead. “Jesus Christ. Talk about the perfect way to cock block yourself.”
“All I could think about was him staring at a naked woman, confused about what to do with his fingers.”
I let out a roar of a laugh, which is pretty inappropriate for a hospital waiting room. Thankfully, we’re off in a corner, away from people, and no one even glances our way. “What a fucking moron. I bet if he actually spent time learning how to pleasure a woman, he wouldn’t have to discuss gnawing his cat’s paws, as he’d be in bed with someone.”
“Probably, especially with someone who likes clean nostrils.”
“You’d be hard pressed to find someone who doesn’t like clean nostrils,” I reply with a smile.
“I mean, I do.” Everly points to herself.
“I do too,” I say. “I even waxed my nostrils once. It was terrible, but that’s how much I care about nostrils.”
“A true sacrifice,” she replies, patting my arm.
“Some might say heroic.”
“Oh yeah, I think trophy-worthy for sure.”
I smirk. “Well, I’m sorry that Tomothy didn’t work out. What did you say to your sister after?”
“Oh, she was dead to me. I didn’t talk to her for a few days.”
“Silent treatment, effective technique. Did she feel the anger?” I ask.
“Oh yes, she did. And she apologized and blamed it on her husband.”
“Smart lady,” I say. “So that means you’re still looking then.”
“Yes, still looking.”
“What’s your type?” I ask.
She wets her lips and looks away. “Umm, someone who doesn’t complain about the complexities of the female genitalia.”
I chuckle. Fuck, she’s funny. “I think a fair requirement. What else?”
“Um.” She twists her hands in her lap. “Someone who likes to laugh, joke, have fun. I feel like work can be very stressful at times, and it would be great to have someone that I could just relax with, forget about the stresses of the events we’re planning. Someone to help me escape.”
“I feel that,” I say. “What else?”
“I’d like someone who isn’t afraid to try new things. Food, adventure, perhaps a different show here and there. It would be cool if he liked cooking, because I hate it.”
