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)
“Maybe you think that’s what you said to her, but clearly you didn’t. Because she clearly thinks there’s still a chance for something with you, Josh, and when it comes to you, she’ll obviously take any little crumb she can get, no matter how small and pitiful.”
“Well, shit. Hang on. Lemme read it again.”
“It makes me wonder if you’re ever completely honest when it comes to women. Do you ever just tell it like it is? Or do you always spin things to avoid hurt feelings—or maybe to keep your motorboating-options open?”
“Hang the fuck on, Kat. Jesus fucking Christ, you demon-woman, lemme fucking look at it.”
Kat presses her lips together and crosses her arms over her chest, her eyes blazing. “I don’t mind a manwhore if he’s honest about it—I really don’t—I mean, as long as he’s not running around collecting baby-mommas or STD’s—but I absolutely cannot stomach a goddamned liar.”
“Fuck, Kat. Would you shut the fuck up for a minute? Jesus, you’re a fucking lunatic.” I look down at my phone and read again while Kat silently fumes. “Okay, clearly there’s been a huge misunderstanding,” I say when I’m done reading.
“Don’t forget to take a peek at the photos she sent you, too,” Kat says. “They’re super-duper awesome.”
I’d be a fool to open those photos with Kat standing right here, I know—but I do it, anyway. Why? Because, apparently, I’m every bit the suicide-bomber she is.
I open the first photo. It’s Jen and her famous mom, their cheeks pressed together.
“Yeah, so what?” I say. “Who cares if Jen’s mom is—”
“Open the second photo, Josh.”
I roll my eyes and open the second photo. Oh. Wow. Hello, Jen’s beautiful tits. Yeah, that woman’s got some gorgeous tits, I must say. But so what? I look up at Kat, ready to tell her she needs to take a chill-pill, and she’s absolutely seething with jealousy. If she were a cartoon character, her skin would be green and steam would be shooting out her ears.
I stifle a grin, remembering Kat’s sexy little speech about how she never, ever gets jealous. The girl is all talk. I open my mouth to speak, but before I can say a goddamned word, Kat launches into me again.
“Do you always just tell women what they want to hear, Josh? That’s what I wanna know. Which leads me to the million-dollar question: Have you just been telling me what I wanna hear?”
My urge to smile vanishes. I throw up my hands, suddenly enraged. “Gimme a break, Kat. I’ve been one hundred percent honest with you and you know it.”
“I’m not so sure. You keep telling me I’m ‘the most beautiful woman you’ve ever been with’ and then I see you’ve been with a freaking Victoria’s Secret ‘Angel.’”
“So?” I ask.
“So, then I know for a fact you’re just blowing smoke up my butt.”
“Oh my God. You’re pissed I said you’re more beautiful than a Victoria’s Secret supermodel?” I take a deep breath, trying to control my rising anger. “Why are you doing this? I haven’t given you shit about Cameron Schulz or any of the guys you’ve slept with—and it sounds like there’s plenty to choose from.”
Oh shit, I shouldn’t have added that last bit. Ooph. The top of her head just popped off.
“Well, maybe you’d react differently if Cameron emailed me a photo of his balls and asked me to ‘motorboat’ them!” Her eyes bug out. “Again!” she shrieks.
I stifle the urge to laugh. She’s pretty funny right now.
Kat’s still fuming. “And you wanna know the reason why Cameron’s not sending me goddamned dick-and-ball-pics?” she continues. “Because I was honest and clear with him about my lack of interest.”
“Oh, okay, sure, Kat—you’re so fucking honest all the time. Let’s talk about that cute little speech of pure fiction you made about how you never, ever get jealous unless you’re in a committed relationship. Hmm? What about that?” I scoff. “So, okay, maybe I didn’t get my words exactly right when I talked to Jen. But that was because I was trying to let her down easy. At least I was trying to be nice.”
She clenches her jaw. “What does that mean? You don’t think I’m nice?”
I pause. “No, I... I think you’re nice—really nice. It’s just that...” Why do I keep feeling like I’m digging myself a deeper hole? “It’s just that, you know, you’re a Scorpio,” I say.
She looks at me blankly.
“God wouldn’t have designed you with a stinger on your tail if he didn’t want you to use it on occasion, right?”
Her mouth is hanging open.
“But that’s okay. I like your stinger.” Oh boy. I’m really not doing myself any favors here. Okay. Once again, the best defense is a good offense. “Jesus Christ, Kat,” I say. “You’re just like my fucking brother—physically perfect and you don’t even know it. And you’re needy just like him, too.” I shake my head. “Kat, you’re absolutely beautiful. I told you. I couldn’t have designed you better myself. But you’re also insane, apparently. You’re seriously driving me crazy.”