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Mia wasn’t the only one who could be an asshole.
When she finally entered the kitchen in her socked feet I was leaning against the counter, a Molson tipped back and sliding like cold liquid gold down my throat. I didn’t ask again if she wanted a beer. She was so damn independent, she could get it herself.
She eventually grabbed one and popped the top with a little gadget she had on her key ring. She’d sucked down half the bottle before I summoned enough control to stop staring. Watching her throat move and getting hard wasn’t helping my case for indifference.
But Jesus, did she have to be wearing such a snug top? Her nipples pressed against her shirt in the light from over the stove. They were way perkier than their owner, that was for sure.
“Want a tour?” I jerked my elbow behind me. “I’ll give you the Cliff’s Notes, since I know you’re not concerned with things like basic human interaction. This is the kitchen. I eat takeout here. Lately I’m partial to salami subs, which have way too many sulfites but I don’t really care.”
“Who’s the bowl for?”
Following her gaze to the blue bowl next to the microwave cart, I smiled in spite of myself. “Veyron, my puppy. He’s at the groomer’s overnight tonight.”
“You send your dog on overnight trips to the groomer?”
“She’s a friend, and our dogs play together.”
“I’m sure she is.”
Ignoring her snippy tone, I rubbed condensation off my bottle. “She gives Veyron the works while he’s there for his overnight play dates. It’s good for him to have friends. Good for everyone to have friends,” I added as she turned away.
She could dish with the best of ’em. As for taking, forget it.
“Moving on.” I gestured. “The next room over is the formal dining room. Since I don’t entertain, the layer of dust on the table is thick enough to write messages in. I do that sometimes when I get bored. Then there’s—”
“Who do you write them to? The messages, I mean.”
“Myself mostly.” I shrugged and guzzled more beer. I’d need another soon. “That’s where I keep my grocery list.”
“Salami?”
“And eggs. And bacon. And beer.” My mouth tipped up and I saluted her with my bottle. “God’s trifecta of goodness.”
“Some training diet.”
“You’d be surprised, but there’s more to my life than what happens in the cage.”
“So it’s true.” She nodded like an all-knowing Yoda. “You’re getting ready to hang it up.”
“You shouldn’t listen to rumors. You can get nasty diseases that way.”
A hollow expression overtook her face. She turned into a ghost, right in front of me. Just like what had happened outside, when she’d announced she wasn’t a virgin. Looking into the tunnels of her eyes physically hurt. I would’ve sworn they had no bottom. They’d become just endless, empty holes.
“What do you do in the living room?” Her voice seemed to echo.
I didn’t know what I’d done now to screw up her equilibrium, but I wanted it back. Though it cost me, I struggled to sound relaxed. “Sleep on the couch. Read the funny papers. Watch the big screen.”
“Game tape?”
Admitting it would mean I’d take more shit, but I couldn’t lie to her. “No.”
She nodded, as if she’d already known the answer. “Football?”
“No.”
“Then?”
“Talk shows.” For once I was glad to see her sneer. The ghost had disappeared…for now. “The really trashy kind, where they do paternity tests every day and throw chairs and all that.”
