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“Aww, are you worried about my brain, Alex?”
“I’m worried about your dick shriveling up.” He points at my crotch before retreating to his own desk and firing up his laptop. “I don’t know why you’re putting so much thought into this. You already have Evie, it’s not like you’re trying to get her.”
“I’m trying to keep her.” Trust the guy who’s a relationship-phobe to not get it. He wouldn’t understand that if I don’t stay on my toes, and take every opportunity to show her how much I love her, she might leave me for someone else who will.
“Well, you’re not gonna keep her unless she’s suddenly a lesbian. Get off Pinterest, man the fuck up, and do what men have been doing for decades for this made-up holiday that’s all about women. Trust me.”
My forehead stings from the force of meeting my desk, but the outright shudders of laughter rolling through my body dull the pain somewhat. “You’re concerned I’m taking financial advice from a girl who’s terrible at math, but I’m supposed to trust you to give me solid relationship advice? Do I look stupid to you?”
“No, you look like a guy who’s switching teams to me,” Alex grumbles. “Fine. Laugh all you want, but I know women—what they want, what they like, and what they need even if they won’t admit it to themselves.”
Okay, now he’s got me curious. Evie doesn’t admit a lot to herself. Has Alex picked up on it, too? “All right, all right. I’m listening. Please enlighten me, o master of females.”
Alex spins in his chair. “Show me you’re ready to learn.”
We move our chairs until we’re facing each other, huddling in the middle of our room over an entirely new play.
“That’s better. Now, grasshopper,” Alex whispers conspiratorially. “Women like Evie are the worst when it comes to VD.”
“Watch it.”
He splays his hands in a defensive gesture. “Oh, come on. You know it’s true. The problem with feminists is most of them have warped what the term stands for. They want equality, yeah, but they want romance and all that girly, fluffy shit, too. Even though,” he points at me for emphasis, “they refuse to admit it to themselves.”
I nod slowly. I can’t say I’ve never had the same thoughts. Hell, I’ve told Evie as much.
“They want us to hold doors open for them, but when we ask for sex and get up-front and honest about what we want and what we don’t, they suddenly get all offended. At least until you give them what they don’t even realize they want. I can’t tell you how many girls gave up their so-called moral code after a little ego stroking and spoiling.”
I swallow a ball of dread, suddenly not so sure I want to hear any of this. “Alex. You’re not seriously implying what I think you are…are you?”
He gazes at me with clear confusion written across his face. “What do you think I’m implying?”
“Uh, it sounds a lot to me like you’ve tricked girls into sleeping with you.”
His shoulders relax, and he waves my concern away with a sweeping gesture of his hand. “No, no. You’re not listening. I didn’t trick them; I gave them what they wanted, but were too afraid to admit to themselves in the interests of being independent, modern women.”
How did my afternoon go from gift research to this? As much as I feel in my bones that I’m going to regret this conversation, I’m in too deep to back out now. “Explain yourself. You’ve got ten minutes before I teach you a lesson on respect.”
He laughs, not taking my threat seriously. “Ease up there, QB. We’re not on the field. You don’t get to boss me around in my own room.”
“Make that five minutes, and you sure as hell don’t have a problem bossing me around in our room.”
Alex rolls his eyes. “I don’t trick them, Rob. I give them what they want, so I can get what I want.”
I glance down at my pretend watch. “Four.”
“Okay, take Evie, for example.”
“I’m going to speed up this beat-down if you give me an example of how you’ve tried to trick my girlfriend into sleeping with you. You understand that, right?”
He cocks his head back in disbelief. “You couldn’t put the beat down on me if you tried.”
“When it comes to my girl, I know a guy sitting in the county lock-up back home who could tell you otherwise. I could have killed him with my bare hands. Don’t think I won’t do the same to you.”
I’m not proud of my homicidal rage tendencies, but I’m not playing games when it comes to Evie either. Judging by the expression of fear on Alex’s face, he understands this.
“Point taken,” he backpedals. “And for the record, I have never tried to put the moves on Evie.”
“And you never will,” I tell him in no uncertain terms. “Is there a lesson here somewhere or not? Because, frankly, I’m growing bored, and I have work to do.”
