Page 117 of (Not) The One
Ah, about that. I lack a sofa for you to receive your blow job on.
There’s a pause when I just know he’s thinking about asking me to come over to his. Then the little blue bubbles appear.
How about I buy a goldfish and pay you to come and look after it?
Pay me to look after it? Or look after you?I type out, wondering if he’s really joking. Or just really dense when it comes to this sort of thing.
You look after it. I’ll look after you.
That still sounds a little too service orientated for my tastes.
Really? When you’re the one getting serviced? And by serviced, I mean fucked. Really rather well.
And you’re going to PAY me for my inconvenience?
Ah. I see. Would you do it for free?
I’m not moving in with you. I will, however, come over and help you look for your blow job later. First, I have to go into the pet-sitting offices.
‘Teal is also a beautiful jewel colour,’ I hear Olivia say. ‘And it goes with most skin tones.’
‘Hmm.’ Heather’s response is less than enthusiastic as she approacheswedding information critical mass.
Any idea what for?
Nope. I just got a text.
GTG,I respond.Shall I grab something for dinner on the way over?
No need. Sandy has made food. Chicken pasta something or other. Is that okay for you?
Perfect.Perfectly weird that the woman who looks after his house has left him dinner. Almost like he’s planned to get me over there.See you around seven.
I can’t wait to get my hands on you, even though I don’t know what GTO means. Go to Oban? Is that the same as get tae fuck? That’s Scots for go forth and multiply.
I can’t answer you, I respond.I’ve already gone.
I almost end the conversation withlove you,but that would be absurd.
‘And she would have us believe she doesn’t have a boyfriend.’
I lock the screen on my phone and place it down, giving myself a moment to school my expression.
‘It was my mum.’
‘Ha. You’re such a bad liar,’ Olivia replies, tapping her phone against her thigh. ‘The worst liar ever. You know what I think? You should bring him to the wedding.’
‘What?’ Jinx. Heather and I say the same thing at the same time. But while my answer sounds deep and sort of masculine—and loud—Heather’s is gurgling with laughter.
‘Okay...’ Olivia draws the word out over a dozen syllables. ‘That was weird.’
‘Ha!’ I cough and pat my hand against my chest. ‘I’ve got a frog in my throat.’
‘Frog? It sounds like you’ve swallowed a man.’
‘She probably has,’ Heather mutters under her breath, causing me to shoot her a look. A look that approximately saysI will end you if you utter another word. Yet she still has another word to utter. ‘And I’d say recently.’
‘Oh, a mystery man. Say you’ll bring him to the wedding.’
