Wallbanger
Page 19
“Whoa,” I cried as I teetered backward. His arm shot out and caught me just before I went from flustered to flat-out wrong and on my bottom.
“Where are you running off to this morning?” he asked, as I took him in. Sweaty white T-shirt, black running shorts, damp curly hair, iPod, and a grin.
“You’re sweaty,” I word-vomited.
“I am sweaty. It happens,” he added, sweeping the back of his hand across his forehead, making his hair stand straight up. I had to physically block the neurons from my brain trying to get to my fingers with instructions to lift and nestle. Lift and nestle.
He stared down at me, his blue eyes twinkling. He’d make this painful if I didn’t go ahead and out the giant sex elephant in the room.
“So listen, about last night,” I started.
“What about last night? The part where you were berating me about my sex life? Or the part where you were sharing my sex life with your friends?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and raising his T-shirt to wipe his face. I drew in a breath that sounded like a wind tunnel as I stared at abs that could almost be speedbumps. Why couldn’t he be a soft, fat neighbor?
“No, I mean the crack you made about the sweet dreams. And the…well…the thin walls,” I stammered, avoiding all eye contact. I was suddenly fascinated by my new shade of toenail polish. It was lovely…
“Ah, yes, the thin walls. Well, they work both ways, you know. And if someone were to, say, have a very interesting dream some night, well, let’s just say it would be quite entertaining,” he whispered. My knees went a little wobbly. Damn him and his voodoo…
I had to get back in control. I backed up a step.
“Yes, you may have heard something I would have preferred you not hear, but that’s not the way things always go down. So, you got me. But you won’t actually ever have me, so let’s move on. You got that? And brunch, by the way,” I finished, concluding my diatribe.
He looked confused and amused at the same time. “Brunch, by the way?”
“Brunch. You asked where I was off to this morning, and my answer is brunch.”
“Ah, got it. And are you meeting your girls that were out with my guys last night?”
“I am, and I will gladly share the scoop with you if it’s any good,” I laughed, twirling a piece of hair around my finger. Nice. Flirting 101. What the hell?
“Oh, I’m sure it’s good scoop. Those two look like man-eaters,” he said, rocking back on his heels as he began to stretch a bit.
“Are we talking Hannibal?”
“No, more like Hall & Oates.” He laughed, looking up at me as he stretched his hamstrings.
Christ, hamstrings.
“Yes, well, they can definitely work a room when they need to,” I said thoughtfully, beginning to back away again.
“And how about you?” he asked, standing straight.
“How about me what?”
“Oh, I bet Pink Nightie Girl can work any room she wants.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling.
“Eh, work this,” I fired back and walked away with a twinkle of my own.
“Nice,” he added when I shot him a look over my shoulder.
“Oh, please, like you’re not intrigued,” I called back from about ten feet away.
“Oh, I’m intrigued,” he shouted as I walked backward, shaking my hips while he applauded.
“Too bad I don’t work well with others! I ain’t no harem girl!” I yelled, practically at the corner.
“Truce still on?” he yelled.
“I don’t know, what does Simon say?”
“Oh, Simon says, hell yes. It’s on!” he shouted back as I rounded the corner.
I twirled about, actually doing a little pirouette. I smiled big as I bounced along, thinking a truce was a very good thing.
“Egg-white omelet with tomatoes, mushrooms, spinach, and onions.”
“Pancakes—four stack, please—with a side of bacon. And I’ll need the bacon very crispy, please, but not blackened.”
“Two eggs sunny side up, rye toast with butter on the side, and the fruit salad.”
After ordering, we settled in for a morning of coffee and gossip.
“Okay, so tell me what happened after we left last night,” Mimi said, placing her chin in her hands and blinking prettily at me.
“After you left? You mean after you left me with my jerky neighbor to drive me home? What were you thinking? And telling everyone the he-was-still-hard story? Seriously? I’m writing you both out of my will,” I snapped, swallowing coffee that was too hot and instantly searing off a third of my taste buds. I let my tongue hang out of my mouth to cool.
“First of all, we told that story because it’s funny, and funny is good,” Sophia began, fishing a piece of ice out of her water glass and handing it to me.
“Thanh ooo,” I managed, accepting the cube.
She nodded. “And second, you have nothing to leave me anyway, as I already have the entire set of Barefoot Contessa cookbooks, which you bought me yourself. So write me out of the will. And third, the two of you were being such downers there was no way we were taking you out with our new boys,” Sophia finished, smiling wickedly.
“New boys. I love new boys.” Mimi clapped, looking like a Disney cartoon.
“How was the ride home?” Sophia asked.
“The ride home. Well, it was interesting.” I sighed, now sucking on the cube with wild abandon.
“Interesting good?” Mimi squealed.
“If you call schtupping someone on the Golden Gate Bridge interesting, then yes,” I replied, calmly drumming my fingers on the table. Mimi’s mouth began to fall from her face when Sophia placed her right hand over Mimi’s left, which was about to squeeze her fork into something unrecognizable.
“Sweetie, she’s kidding. We would know if Caroline had been schtupped last night. She’d have better skin tone,” Sophia soothed.
Mimi nodded quickly and released the fork. I pitied any guy who pissed her off during a handjob.
“So, no dish?” Sophia asked.
“Hey, you know the rules. You dish, I dish,” I answered, eyes widening as our breakfast was served. After we dug in, Mimi fired the first shot.
“Did you know that Neil played football for Stanford? And that he always wanted to go into sports broadcasting?” she offered, methodically separating her melon from her berries.
“Good to know, good to know. Did you know Ryan sold some kind of amazing computer program to Hewlett Packard when he was just twenty-three? And that he put all the money in the bank, quit his job, and spent two years teaching English to kids in Thailand?” Sophia provided next.
“Where are you running off to this morning?” he asked, as I took him in. Sweaty white T-shirt, black running shorts, damp curly hair, iPod, and a grin.
“You’re sweaty,” I word-vomited.
“I am sweaty. It happens,” he added, sweeping the back of his hand across his forehead, making his hair stand straight up. I had to physically block the neurons from my brain trying to get to my fingers with instructions to lift and nestle. Lift and nestle.
He stared down at me, his blue eyes twinkling. He’d make this painful if I didn’t go ahead and out the giant sex elephant in the room.
“So listen, about last night,” I started.
“What about last night? The part where you were berating me about my sex life? Or the part where you were sharing my sex life with your friends?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and raising his T-shirt to wipe his face. I drew in a breath that sounded like a wind tunnel as I stared at abs that could almost be speedbumps. Why couldn’t he be a soft, fat neighbor?
“No, I mean the crack you made about the sweet dreams. And the…well…the thin walls,” I stammered, avoiding all eye contact. I was suddenly fascinated by my new shade of toenail polish. It was lovely…
“Ah, yes, the thin walls. Well, they work both ways, you know. And if someone were to, say, have a very interesting dream some night, well, let’s just say it would be quite entertaining,” he whispered. My knees went a little wobbly. Damn him and his voodoo…
I had to get back in control. I backed up a step.
“Yes, you may have heard something I would have preferred you not hear, but that’s not the way things always go down. So, you got me. But you won’t actually ever have me, so let’s move on. You got that? And brunch, by the way,” I finished, concluding my diatribe.
He looked confused and amused at the same time. “Brunch, by the way?”
“Brunch. You asked where I was off to this morning, and my answer is brunch.”
“Ah, got it. And are you meeting your girls that were out with my guys last night?”
“I am, and I will gladly share the scoop with you if it’s any good,” I laughed, twirling a piece of hair around my finger. Nice. Flirting 101. What the hell?
“Oh, I’m sure it’s good scoop. Those two look like man-eaters,” he said, rocking back on his heels as he began to stretch a bit.
“Are we talking Hannibal?”
“No, more like Hall & Oates.” He laughed, looking up at me as he stretched his hamstrings.
Christ, hamstrings.
“Yes, well, they can definitely work a room when they need to,” I said thoughtfully, beginning to back away again.
“And how about you?” he asked, standing straight.
“How about me what?”
“Oh, I bet Pink Nightie Girl can work any room she wants.” He chuckled, his eyes twinkling.
“Eh, work this,” I fired back and walked away with a twinkle of my own.
“Nice,” he added when I shot him a look over my shoulder.
“Oh, please, like you’re not intrigued,” I called back from about ten feet away.
“Oh, I’m intrigued,” he shouted as I walked backward, shaking my hips while he applauded.
“Too bad I don’t work well with others! I ain’t no harem girl!” I yelled, practically at the corner.
“Truce still on?” he yelled.
“I don’t know, what does Simon say?”
“Oh, Simon says, hell yes. It’s on!” he shouted back as I rounded the corner.
I twirled about, actually doing a little pirouette. I smiled big as I bounced along, thinking a truce was a very good thing.
“Egg-white omelet with tomatoes, mushrooms, spinach, and onions.”
“Pancakes—four stack, please—with a side of bacon. And I’ll need the bacon very crispy, please, but not blackened.”
“Two eggs sunny side up, rye toast with butter on the side, and the fruit salad.”
After ordering, we settled in for a morning of coffee and gossip.
“Okay, so tell me what happened after we left last night,” Mimi said, placing her chin in her hands and blinking prettily at me.
“After you left? You mean after you left me with my jerky neighbor to drive me home? What were you thinking? And telling everyone the he-was-still-hard story? Seriously? I’m writing you both out of my will,” I snapped, swallowing coffee that was too hot and instantly searing off a third of my taste buds. I let my tongue hang out of my mouth to cool.
“First of all, we told that story because it’s funny, and funny is good,” Sophia began, fishing a piece of ice out of her water glass and handing it to me.
“Thanh ooo,” I managed, accepting the cube.
She nodded. “And second, you have nothing to leave me anyway, as I already have the entire set of Barefoot Contessa cookbooks, which you bought me yourself. So write me out of the will. And third, the two of you were being such downers there was no way we were taking you out with our new boys,” Sophia finished, smiling wickedly.
“New boys. I love new boys.” Mimi clapped, looking like a Disney cartoon.
“How was the ride home?” Sophia asked.
“The ride home. Well, it was interesting.” I sighed, now sucking on the cube with wild abandon.
“Interesting good?” Mimi squealed.
“If you call schtupping someone on the Golden Gate Bridge interesting, then yes,” I replied, calmly drumming my fingers on the table. Mimi’s mouth began to fall from her face when Sophia placed her right hand over Mimi’s left, which was about to squeeze her fork into something unrecognizable.
“Sweetie, she’s kidding. We would know if Caroline had been schtupped last night. She’d have better skin tone,” Sophia soothed.
Mimi nodded quickly and released the fork. I pitied any guy who pissed her off during a handjob.
“So, no dish?” Sophia asked.
“Hey, you know the rules. You dish, I dish,” I answered, eyes widening as our breakfast was served. After we dug in, Mimi fired the first shot.
“Did you know that Neil played football for Stanford? And that he always wanted to go into sports broadcasting?” she offered, methodically separating her melon from her berries.
“Good to know, good to know. Did you know Ryan sold some kind of amazing computer program to Hewlett Packard when he was just twenty-three? And that he put all the money in the bank, quit his job, and spent two years teaching English to kids in Thailand?” Sophia provided next.
