Total pages in book: 130
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 128417 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 642(@200wpm)___ 514(@250wpm)___ 428(@300wpm)
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Jonas shrugs. “I’m just sayin’ a girl can get dissatisfied pretty damn quick with her ridiculously expensive Lamborghini if it doesn’t deliver everything that’s been promised in the brochure.”
My heart is racing. I don’t know how it’s possible, but my idiot brother is actually making a shit-ton of sense.
“So as your girl’s designated Lamborghini,” Jonas says, “you need to make it your sacred mission to give her everything she expects from a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.” He swigs his beer. “You gotta convince that woman she actually needs a goddamned Lamborghini.”
Shit. He’s right. “So what do I need to do?” I ask.
“You gotta be able to do stuff for her she can’t do for herself. Make her come so hard, she’s literally addicted to you.”
“Oh, well, that I can do. Believe me, I know how to make a woman come hard.”
“One way? Two ways?”
“All ways. Fuck off.”
“Mmm hmm.”
“Fuck you. I’m good.”
“But are you great? Do you aspire to excellence every single time?”
“What the fuck are you talking about? Do I aspire...? Just to be clear, we are talking about fucking, right? Or is this conversation about something completely different and I’ve been totally confused the whole time?”
“Ah, grasshopper. Fucking is never just fucking.”
I roll my eyes.
“You said she’s a unicorn. I’m just saying you gotta bring your ‘A’ game every time with a unicorn. There are no free passes. You gotta study up—continuously improve your skills—keep ratcheting it up for her. You can never, ever just ‘wet your dick.’”
I cringe. “Jonas.”
He shrugs.
There’s a beat.
“Study up?” I finally ask.
“A man catches himself a unicorn, then he best study up so he can feed her the right kind of unicorn-food.”
“What the fuck are you talking about?”
Jonas rolls his eyes, pulls out his phone, and taps something out on it.
I lean over, trying to get a glimpse of his screen. “What are you doing?”
“I’m ordering some books for you. They’ll be at your house when you get home. Read ’em before you see Kat again. You’re welcome.”
“Fuck you,” I say.
“No, fuck her—with supreme devotion and expertly calibrated skill.” The light from his phone illuminates the huge grin on his face. “I know you think you’re the wise and powerful Faraday twin—and you are about most things—but about this one thing, I’m nothing short of godly. Just trust me.”
“Whatever, bro,” I mumble. Of course, I’m beyond excited to read whatever books Jonas just sent to my house, but I’d never tell him that. “Hey, bro, can I ask you something?”
“It’s called a G-spot,” Jonas says. “And it’s the key to the kingdom.”
“Fuck you,” I say. “I know about the G-spot, fucktard. I’m not a moron.”
“Of course, you do. Sorry to insult you. What’s your question?”
“What I’m about to say has nothing to do with me doubting your connection with Sarah, okay? So don’t flip out on me. Just remain calm.”
“I would never, ever flip out on you, Josh. I’m nothing if not an endless reservoir of calm contemplation.”
We both laugh.
“I’m just wondering...” I say. “Everything’s just been so fast for you two—”
“A lot’s happened in a short amount of time—we’ve already lived through a lifetime’s worth of shit together.”
“Oh, totally. I get that. I’m just wondering, you know...” I clear my throat. “How do you know?”
“How do I know what? How to make her come? Read the books I sent you, dumbshit.” He laughs, but I don’t. He tilts his head, obviously realizing I’m asking him something in earnest. “How do I know I love her?” he asks.
“No, not exactly. What I’m asking is different than that—bigger than that.” I bite my lip, thinking. “How do you know Sarah’s The One? How do you know she’s the last woman you ever wanna be with—the last woman you ever wanna sleep with for the rest of your whole fucking life? How do you know you can promise Sarah forever and one hundred percent mean it?”
Jonas shrugs. “I just know. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my whole life.”
“But how are you so sure? What exactly do you feel about Sarah that makes you so sure you don’t just love her—because I totally get that—but that you also wanna spend the rest of your life with this one girl and not keep searching for some other girl who might be a teeny-tiny bit more perfect?”
Jonas sips his beer slowly, apparently pondering the question. “When you find what you’re looking for, you know,” he finally says. “We’re the greatest love story ever told—our love is the wonder of the wise, the joy of the good, the amazement of the gods.”
There’s an exceptionally long pause during which I have to keep myself from rolling my eyes. “Oh, well,” I say evenly. “That explains everything. Thanks.” I take a long swig of my beer and look out at the river. “That reminds me, I like your new ink. In English, I notice. That’s something new for you.”