“Would it be any better if I said I peed myself in excitement?”
Zoe gives me a stony glare and slowly crosses her arms. I guess there are a few things humor can’t fix.
“You know what?” Zoe fumes. “You disgust me.”
“That’s a given. I’m a dude. You used to tell me this at least four times a week back when we lived in the same house.”
“That’s because you used to pee all over the toilet seat since you were too lazy to put it up like a decent person and put it back down so that no one fell in.”
“That’s because my mom legitimately did fall in, and she yelled at me for ten minutes straight after about how it feels like falling into the toilet at three in the morning when she was half asleep. It scarred me for life, and there was no way I was taking a chance on forgetting.”
“So, you just pissed all over the thing instead? Because that was so much better.”
“There were maybe two or three times I missed a little.”
Zoe glances pointedly at my crotch. “Like tonight. I can’t believe you…that…” She throws her hands up and lets out a sigh that could very well shake the walls. “Why am I even standing here having this conversation? I have no idea why I just…uh…that was a horrible mistake, and it will never, ever, be repeated or spoken of. Ever. It proves what a huge mistake even coming here was. And for the record, I’m drunk.”
“But not that drunk.”
“Argh!” Zoe stalks over, grabs her purse, and throws it over her shoulder. “See you never. Stay the heck out of my life. I’m quitting, and that’s final.”
“But you lost at rock, paper, scissors.” Of course, that’s the most mature thing I can think of to say.
Then again, I’m still sitting here on the couch in the semi-darkness, with the only light coming from my phone’s flashlight because Zoe shut hers off and tossed it into her purse already. I’m buzzed on whisky and buzzed on her, the obvious causes of what happened in my pants.
“That’s the real reason you asked me here tonight, isn’t it? Because you wanted to get your rocks off and probably use it to blackmail me too. Lucky for me, you didn’t plan on the power outage and your cameras going down.”
“What cameras? Oh. You think I filmed the whole thing?” Because I’m seriously a bastard—which I just basically figured out tonight before I held out some hope—I let out a snort of surprised laughter. “Only you would think of something like that.”
“And only you would threaten to fire everyone I work with just because I quit.”
“Maybe.”
“What’s maybe about that?” Zoe’s giving me a death glare, but her eyes are kind of crossed since they’re so narrow, and she has to look down her nose and sideways at me, so it’s ruining the effect. I very nearly laugh again, which would be ungentlemanly, so I do my best to hold it back.
“Maybe I just wanted to invite you here to catch up, just like I said.”
“Except you weren’t actually interested in anything that has to do with my life. You just wanted to issue commands and keep me working for a company that was good until you took it over. Now I’m sure it’s going to go downhill fast.”
“My track record says otherwise.”
“You can ball your track record into a freaking wad and stick it up your butt hole.”
“I think that’s the meanest thing I’ve ever heard you say.”
Zoe’s nostrils flare. God, she’s sexy when she looks like she’s about to rip my throat out. “Good. You deserve it. And then, instead of catching up, or whatever you want to call it, you decide to feed me some whisky and jump my bones. Not cool.”
“For the record, it was you who was severely eager to jump mine.”
“And that lasted for all of three seconds. Now I know why you’re a serial dater. You have money, so all these amazing, talented, and smoking hot women are willing to date you or at least put in an appearance with you, but then they find out about your little problem, and they’re obviously not going to stick around for that kind of thing, so they ghost you, and you have to move on to the next thing and so on and so on.”
“I guess you have me all figured out.”
“Don’t worry. It actually works in your favor, now that I know about it. Before, I thought you were the one doing the dumping and moving on. This makes you seem less like an asshole and more like a disappointment. I actually feel sorry for you. You know, there are doctors…”
“Now that’s just plain mean, calling me a disappointment. My dick isn’t a disappointment. What happened tonight was actually a compliment.” Because my dick might be an even bigger asshole than I can sometimes be, he roars to life in my pants, getting harder than a damn baseball bat eager as fuck to redeem himself by hitting one hell of a home run. I shrug. “I’m ready to go again if you are.”
Zoe literally flashes me the bird. Perfect—she can’t say a bad word if her life depended on it—Zoe flips me the bird. “Fuck you, Raiden.”
I lift a brow and offer a grin that is way too cocky for a guy who just blew his load in his pants after like four point eight seconds. “Alright. That’s what I was proposing. I didn’t think you’d be up for it because I’m getting some seriously mixed messages, but…”
“We are done. Forever. Don’t call me, don’t fire anyone, don’t look me up, and don’t interfere with my life. If you do, in any way, I’ll make sure the entire world knows
