I look over at T-squared and notice that his brow is furrowed, and he is lost in thought. Curious and recognizing his apparent distress, I am unable to resist. I gently lay my hand on his forearm, “Penny for your thoughts?”
He looks sideways at me, and grins, “Ahhh…these thoughts are worth a quid, bare minimum.”
I laugh in response, “Alright then, a quid it is… or perhaps, I should offer to buy first round, if we manage to make it out of your family home alive tonight? That seems more appropriate. It occurs to me that we’ll both need a stiff drink after this little charade. Tell me. What’s going through that perennial bed head of yours?”
“Bed head, you say? Perennial, no less?”
“Yes, bedhead. You have an uncanny knack for perennially looking like you just rolled out of bed…freshly fucked at that, if I don’t say.”
With that, he flashes that maddening, trademark smirk, clearly amused, “You don’t say. I suppose that isn’t terribly far from the truth.”
I can’t help but swat him playfully. “ Ewwww…just ewww! Okay, rules of the road here, partner. That falls well into the realm of Too Much Information, English. As your pseudo-wifey, I have no need to hear the gory details of your random hookups, or otherwise. Feel free to keep your obviously considerable tales of conquest to yourself, if you don’t mind.”
“Your wish is my command, darling. Of course, I could always assist you in procuring first-hand knowledge. Should you wish to validate said suspicion, I’d be more than happy to oblige.”
Before I can manage to wrap my head around that salacious, little invitation, Edward swings the Bondmobile into a driveway and quickly throws it into park causing us both to jolt against our seats. I just barely refrain from making the snarky Mario Andretti comment that is on the very tip of my tongue. See I can do this…we can do this.
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