She shot me a look of disbelief. “So awesome that you didn’t invite him in?”
I opened the cupboard and grabbed a cup. “We had a great time.”
“Is he a weirdo?”
“No. He was nice.”
She pulled the hood off her head and glared. “But you guys didn’t fuck?”
“No. We didn’t.”
She opened the fridge and grabbed the cream. “He didn’t want to?”
“He did want to. I said no.”
She slammed the carton of cream down beside her coffee and faced me. “What is wrong with you?” she screeched.
“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time,” I said in a regretful tone. “Kind of.”
“You’ll never see him again.”
“He’s coming over tonight.”
Her eyes shot wide. “What?”
I pushed her aside and set my cup under the machine’s spigot. “He’s coming over for dinner.”
“Thank God all’s not lost.” She exhaled a long breath and then lifted her cup. “You better get on that dick like a rat on cheese, though.”
“Oh?” I widened my eyes in false wonder. “Should I?”
“If you don’t, it’ll be the last you see of him,” she said with a nod. “He’s giving you a second chance. If you don’t take it, he’ll be gone.”
“According to who?”
She sipped her coffee, and then shrugged. “SOA.”
“Your stupid biker show?”
“It’s not stupid. It’s informative.” She shuffled to the kitchen table and sat down. “Bikers don’t linger long. They’re free spirits. If you don’t give it up, he’ll find someone who will.”
I finished making my coffee, and then joined her at the table. Egging Jennifer on was one of my all-time favorite things to do.
“Maybe I’ll give him a blowie tonight.”
She gave me a long open-mouthed stare.
“What?” I asked.
“That’s your plan? A blowie?”
I nodded. “Maybe. If he’s lucky.”
She laughed hysterically. Upon catching her breath, she gave me a crazy-eyed look. “Are you in high school? Blow jobs are like an appetizer for a meal. They’re supposed to lead up to something better. They’re not the ‘main event’.”
“I guess that depends on who’s giving them.”
“I know how to suck a dick, believe me.” She scoffed. “And, I’ve never sucked one that didn’t lead to sex.”