“Andi…” She tests me. She tests every last ounce of willpower I have; to not leave, and to not throw her over my knee and redden her ass. “Quit it.”
“Nah…” She scoops too much cereal into her mouth until the excess falls out and milk dribbles onto her chin. “I’m just getting started.” More cereal flies out as she speaks. “Notice I gave you a cold breakfast? That way if you throw it, it won’t melt the skin from my bones. Now I’m fearless. Come at me, Cruz. Give me your worst, because I’m ready.”
“Your pig is wearing a pink tutu.”
“Shut up!” Scowling, she studies her bowl and scoops sugar in until she resembles a squirrel smuggling nuts. But her indignation makes me happy. She wants to joke about my leg? Fine. It’s better than sympathy. So I lift my spoon and start the process of undoing all the hard work I’ve put in over the years.
Gym days, lifting, cardio, diving.
“I used to count macronutrients.” I spoon the three-cereal concoction into my mouth and chew slowly. I can already feel my teeth rot. “I counted macros, then I counted abs.”
“I counted your abs, too.” She bounces her brows and pulls one leg up onto the chair so her chin rests on her knee. “There were like, twenty of them. More than enough for little ol’ me. Turned me the hell on.”
“And now you’re undoing it all. Men with bodies like mine don’t eat flakes covered in sugar for breakfast.”
“Bodies like yours?” Smirking, she glances up and makes no attempt to wipe the milk from her chin. “Vain much? You sure are into yourself, Cruz. I didn’t realize you were in a relationship with your own gluteus maximus.”
I roll my eyes. “I meant bodies that could bench four hundred pounds. Or squat with another two hundred on his shoulders. Sugar cereal won’t help me dive and break records.”
“Here you go, making unfounded assumptions again. Have you ever gone to the gym after eating cereal?”
“Of course I haven’t.”
She points her spoon…and flicks milk across the table.“Exactly. Talk to me after you’ve tried it, but until then, you don’t get an opinion.”
I don’t bother arguing thatsheprobably hasn’t gone to the gym on sugar either, or thatshehas no clue what she’s taking about. Because arguing with Andi Conner is as useful as eating sugar and hoping my leg will grow back. So I don’t waste my time.
I eat my breakfast and think about the drawing I saw on the island counter and vow not to ask about it.
I’ll take a peek later when she’s not looking, because what I saw was intriguing – roses, thorns, vines interspersed around machine pieces.
“What time does your mistress arrive today?”
I glance up. “My… Huh?”
“Your nurse.” She shovels more cereal in. “I’m writing a book in my head, and in my story, your nurse is twenty-one, has perfect double D’s, and legs longer than my entire body. The cliches dictate you fall in love with her, because she’s your caretaker, she’ll give you sponge baths and massage your weary muscles at night. Plus, she’s got the double D’s thing going on.”
“I don’t wanna fall in love with a chick that tall. It’d hurt my neck when we make out.” I study my cereal when she scoffs. “Are you writing a book? For real?”
She laughs. “God no. That would be awful, wouldn’t it? I don’t wanna be holed up in a cave twenty-three hours a day while you fuck your nurse. The voices in my head will whisper naughty things, then they’ll whisper how you and yourBeckywill need to die. Maybe I’ll chop you up and bake you into a pie, then I’ll make her eat it.”
“Becky? You’ve named her?”
She rolls her eyes. “Becky with the good hair,obviously. Bitch better watch her back, because I wasn’t done seducing you yet.”
Andi is legitimately the craziest person I know. I have no fucking clue what I’m going to do with her. I’m not sure I’veeverknown. I was just enamored by her beauty, drawn in by her electric eyes, and intrigued by her smart mouth, despite the fact her bullshit was almost always pointed at me.
“What time is the bimbo gonna be here?”
I glance at the clock on the wall out of habit. “Ten.”
“Apart from marry you, what else will she do?”
I shrug. “Check my staples and redress it, I think.”
“Redress,” she grumbles. “I knew that bitch was a whore.”
* * *