He paused to look at me for a second before shaking his head.
Again: I never claimed to be a lady.
I grinned, grabbing for my coffee. “How was work? Apart from being hit on. I know that was probably the best part of your day.”
“Nah. She’s not my type.”
“Why? She blonde?”
“And taller than me. It’s a double-whammy.”
I choked on my drink. “You’re the size of a tree! How can she be taller than you?”
Jay shrugged, snagging the second piece of his pizza. “I don’t know, but she is. She’s gotta be like six-four or something.”
“You’re six-foot-three. Is an inch really that much of a problem?”
Slowly, he pulled his lips to the side. “You’re the woman. You tell me.”
I choked on the bite of pizza I’d just taken, spitting it out into my hand. My throat was sore, and I knew my cheeks were the brightest red they’d probably ever been.
“No,” I finally eked out, throwing what was in my hand into the trash. “The only people who have problems with inches are men and hair stylists.”
“Whatever you say, Shelbs. For the record, no, I don’t have an issue with one inch, but by the time she wears heels? Ouch.” He shook his head. “Nah. It’s far better to date short girls like you.”
“Is it now?”
“Yeah. It doesn’t matter how high your heels are; you’ll still be small enough to throw over my shoulder.” He winked at me, pushing off the counter.
“You lift a short girl over your shoulder and see what happens!” I called after him. “Our legs are just short enough to kick you in the dick!”
He stopped and backed up a little, smirking at me. “If a girl is over my shoulder, she’s not gonna be kicking my dick. She’s gonna be—”
“La la la!” I yelled, dropping my pizza to cover my ears. “La la la la la!”
He grinned at me until I let my hands fall away and quickly said, “Fucking it.”
I clenched my jaw. “Not in this apartment!”
CHAPTER SIX – SHELBY
Lock. The. Bathroom. Door.
“So he signed it?”
I nodded at Brie, pulling my cocktail toward me. It was the weekly official girls’ night, and two hours ago, Jay had officially signed The Roommate Agreement.
“And he didn’t freak out?” Her dark eyebrows raised into perfectly-plucked arches. “Didn’t go crazy?”
“Nope. We negotiated some points”—like me having to put my name on the Oreo packets—“and he signed it plus the tenancy agreement earlier. He always paid the rent to me anyway, but still.”
“You like everything in its place.” She grinned, her bright red lipstick making her blue eyes seem brighter. “What about dating? Is that in there?”
I sipped my drink. “Yep. Neither of us will bring one-night stands or casual sex partners back to the apartment. If either of us dates someone long enough to have them stay over, we’ll handle that then.”
“Is that because you’d want to cut a bitch or because you respect each other?”
“I would not want to cut anyone who slept with him,” I said tersely. “I simply have no desire to hear it happening in the next room.”
“Yeah, and you don’t think about having a dance with his disco stick, do you?”
“Don’t ever refer to a penis as a disco stick again.”
“Oh, so Lady Gaga can do it, but I can’t?”
That sounded about right. “Yes. And I don’t want to do anything with his penis.”
Brie snorted, taking a long sip from her glass. “Right. I’m sure you don’t. How is that little crush of yours, by the way? Still going strong, or has it crawled back under the rock it came from yet?”
Two best friends were too much. I was going to have to cut them loose.
“Okay, we’re not talking about this.” I sighed and finished my drink, motioning to the server for another round. “The rules in the agreement are there for a reason. No more shirtless wandering around, he has to wear pants, and if he wants to stroll around the apartment in a towel after a shower, he has to make sure I’m either working or not at home.”
“Really? All those rules and he still doesn’t know you make googly eyes at him?”
“I do not make googly eyes.”
“The lady doth protest too much.”
“The lady doth talk too much,” I shot back.
She met my gaze and held it for a second, then filled the air around our table with her loud laughter. “The lady doth talk too much, but it only bothers you when I’m telling the truth.”
“It doesn’t bother me. It’s not the truth. I’m fine. It’s fine. I don’t have a crush.”
“Have a crush on who?” A shadow fell over our table, and my heart skipped a beat as I turned my face.
Blue eyes. Dark-blonde hair. Muscular build.
“Sean. Jesus.” Brie put her hand on her chest. “Are you trying to kill me?”
“Sorry, babe.” He leaned forward and kissed her before taking the empty chair at our table. “Who has a crush on who?”