Total pages in book: 117
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 114492 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 572(@200wpm)___ 458(@250wpm)___ 382(@300wpm)
“Oh, yeah, it’s definitely a good story,” I agree. “And a very telling one, too.”
“Telling? In what way?”
“About you as a person.”
“Oh yeah? Pray tell—what does my YOLO ass-tattoo tell you about me as a person? Besides the fact that I’m a total dumbshit, of course.”
I chuckle. “It tells me plenty of stuff—some of it kind of deep.”
He raises his eyebrows. “Well, this ought to be good.”
I take a long sip of my drink, gathering my thoughts. “Well, okay, they’re not all deep and profound things—some are kind of, you know, online-profile-ish.”
“Tell me all of it.”
“Okay. Well, you were in a fraternity, obviously.”
He nods.
“And you’re fun.”
“I am.”
“You’re a guy who’ll do frickin’ anything for a laugh.”
He makes a face like that’s patently obvious.
“You’re an extremely loyal friend.”
“I am. Extremely.”
“You’re a man of your word,” I continue. “That’s pretty deep and profound, I’d say.”
He nods decisively. “I am most definitely a man of my word.”
“Unless you’ve promised to give a girl your application to The Club after you kiss her.”
He rolls his eyes. “Patience, little terrorist. It’s coming. The review process is just a bit lengthier than you realized. Kiss, fuck, application, I told you—we’re still in the ‘fuck’ stage of the proceedings. What else?”
I make a stern face about the application, but he looks so adorably charming, I melt. “Well, you like to party—or at least you did back then.”
He holds up his drink, making it clear this observation is still accurate and I return the gesture. We clink our glasses and take giant swigs of our drinks.
“What else?” he asks.
“You like dumb comedies like Happy Gilmore,” I reply.
He laughs. “Definitely. Oh shit. Please tell me you like dumb comedies. I should have mentioned that’s a bit of a deal-breaker with me. No movies with subtitles, please.”
“Of course, I love dumb comedies,” I say. “Duh. I have four brothers, remember? Until I went off to college, I didn’t know televisions were capable of showing anything besides dumb comedies, football, and my mom’s HGTV.”
Josh laughs. “I really should have asked you about your movie preferences before I fucked you. I got lucky, but it could have gone horribly wrong for me.” He grins. “So what are some of your favorite dumb comedies? Anchorman?”
I nod enthusiastically. “‘I love Scotch. Scotchy, Scotch, Scotch,’” I say, doing my best Ron Burgundy impression. “‘Here it goes down—down into my belly.’”
Josh belly laughs. “‘I’m kind of a big deal.’”
I giggle.
“So what’s at the tippy-top of your list of favorites?” he asks.
“Well, in the modern era I’d have to say Twenty-One Jump Street is pretty damned high on the list.”
“Ah, good one. ‘Hey, hey, stop fuckin’ with Korean Jesus! He ain’t got time for your problems! He busy—with Korean shit!’” Josh shouts, doing his best Ice Cube impression.
I laugh hysterically. “‘Chemistry’s the one with the shapes and shit, right?’” I reply, doing my best stoned Channing Tatum.
“‘Did you just say you have the right to be an attorney?’” Josh adds, laughing his ass off.
“‘You do have the right to be an attorney, if you want to,’” I reply, and Josh laughs his ass off.
“‘You have the right to... suck my dick, motherfucker!’” he says.
Oh, jeez. We’re laughing so hard we can’t breathe.
“Oh my God, Kat—you’re a dude, through and through,” Josh finally says, beaming at me. “A really, really hot dude with a tight, wet, magic pussy.”
I bite my lip. Man, I love this boy’s dirty mouth.
“So what about a classic?” he asks. His face is glowing.
“Hmm. I’d have to go with Zoolander.”
He shoots me the “Blue Steel” male-model face Ben Stiller made famous in that movie.
“Blue steel!” we both shout at the same time.
“Oh my God, Josh,” I say. “You’re the first person I’ve ever seen make ‘Blue Steel’ look good.”
He laughs. “So is that it? Is that everything you’ve figured out about me from my deep and profound ‘YOLO’ ass-tattoo?”
“Oh no, there’s more.” I look at him sideways. “You clearly have a bit of an evil streak.”
“No, I don’t. Not at all. We’re talking about me, not you, remember?”
“Ha, ha.”
“Really, though, I don’t have a mean bone in my body.”
“Ha! You were willing to tag poor Henn’s ass for the rest of his life, for nothing but stupid yucks.”
Josh looks wildly offended. “How the fuck does that make me evil? Henn was willing to do the exact same thing to me—and, in fact, he did do it to me. That makes Henn way more evil than me.”
“But Henn was right.”
“But I didn’t know that. Actually, the most heinous person of all was Reed. He’s the one who came up with the diabolical idea in the first place, just for his sick pleasure, the prick.”
“Yeah, that was pretty evil.”
There’s a beat as we both sip our drinks, smiling broadly at each other. My skin is buzzing with electricity.