Page 159 of Merry Christmas, You Filthy Animal
I run my hand along her hip, loving this moment of levity, how I can joke around with her, tease her. There’s nothing but joy here. I can’t say that how Storee and I set out to woo Betty has completely disappeared from my mind. I’m sure Bettyand I will talk about it sometime and have a good laugh at our ridiculousness.That’s for another day.But this last forty-eight hours with Betty has given me a whole new perspective on relationships and what I want when it comes to the perfect person for me.
And right now, it’s looking a lot like Betty.
Betty
I set my coffee down and blow out a heavy breath before I pick up my phone. I stare down at the text thread with Uncle Dwight.
I don’t know how to approach this. I know Atlas wants to talk to him and clear the air, but maybe I can lay a little groundwork.
I cross one leg over the other and look out the window of Warm Your Spirits, trying to come up with the right phrasing. Well, step number one would be to ask how his conference is going, so I lead with that.
Betty:Hey, just checking in. How’s the conference? Had a pretty bad storm here, lost some power at the cottage but made it through.
Don’t tell him how I made it through, because that doesn’t really need to be stated.
Coffee cake in front of me—I’m going to finally try it after my failed attempt last time—I cut off a piece with my fork and place it in my mouth.
So moist.
The moistest.
So much of this cake is moist that I don’t think I’ll ever get over just how moist it really is.
Love a moist cake.
Moist. Moist. Moist.
“How is it?” Tanya asks as she sets a napkin down at my table.
“Moist,” I say with a smile, causing her to cringe.
“Such a cringe word.”
“Moist?” I ask. “No, it’s a perfect descriptor, especially for a cake. Not too wet, just damp enough to not choke you out while eating.”
She chuckles. “Well, I’m glad you’re enjoying it.”
I take another bite as my phone vibrates with a text. “So moist.”
She shakes her head in mirth. “Well, enjoy.”
I set my fork down and am surprised when I see a text from Atlas on my phone.
Max:Wishing we had another snowstorm right about now. Just watched Cole shovel reindeer excrement, and let’s just say, it did nothing for me.
I chuckle and text him back, feeling all kinds of giddy.
Betty:Does Cole shoveling usually do something for you?
Max:I mean, depends on whether I’m in the mood to marvel at his forearms or not.
Betty:Didn’t know I had competition. Is Storee aware?
Max:She’s very aware of our sick and twisted relationship. Glad you’re starting to clue in. Also, how are you feeling?
Betty:Sore, but a good kind of sore.
Max:I’m sorry. I know you don’t want me apologizing, but I am, I’m sorry. I fucking lost all sense of control last night. I blame it on how you wouldn’t stop squeezing around me.
