“It’s legal to have an ass, Evie Bates,” I said, pushing open the door to Papaya Hut. “Some of us even like it. If someone tells you you’re fat, now you know how to punch their teeth in.”
She was quiet after that.
The Hut was just a long, narrow space with a counter along one wall below a hand-lettered menu. I chose the blueberry-flavored shake, and she picked chocolate. She was still quiet as we got our shakes and took two high-top chairs at a narrow counter by the window, watching the street go by.
“This is ridiculously good,” she said, her eyes going wide as she sipped her shake. “I was picturing Josh’s face when I was punching back there. Is that normal?”
“Considering I punched his actual face, it’s pretty tame.”
“I’m not usually aggressive.” She glanced at my chest, then my shoulder, then away again, as if she couldn’t meet my eyes. “Can I ask you something?”
“Okay,” I said, watching her mouth as she sipped from her straw again. Force of habit. For a nice girl, she had a sexy mouth.
“You don’t seem very torn up about it. The whole cheating thing.” She paused. “Gina.”
“We weren’t dating very long,” I said. “Being torn up isn’t my thing. And it’s different for guys. It’s all about pride.”
“Pride?”
“Sure,” I said. “You really want to know?”
“I think so. Yes.”
“We like to know our cock is the only cock. You know, King Cock. No other cock in the universe can compare.”
She stared at me open-mouthed, her cheeks going pink. “King Cock?” she said.
I narrowed my gaze at her as my temperature went up, starting in my balls. “Say that again.”
Her eyes went wide. “Oh, I don’t think so.”
“Seriously, Evie. Say that again.”
She swallowed. “Are you flirting with me?”
Now I was watching her throat. “I don’t flirt. Ever. There’s no point.”
She put down her drink, flustered, and licked her lip. I couldn’t stop staring. Finally she looked me in the eye. “You really are a bad boy, aren’t you? Like, the real thing.”
“I don’t know what that means,” I said, my voice thick. “Does it mean I get in your pants?”
Her pupils were dark as she looked at me. “I think you’re actually coming on to me,” she said. “Your version of it, anyway.”
Was I? I didn’t know. All I knew was that if we fucked, it would be hot and hard and we’d both get off in minutes. “You want me to?” I asked her.
“I thought you didn’t want in my pants,” she replied. She lifted her chin a little. “I’m not your kind of woman, remember?”
Right. She was a good girl. I needed to behave. “And I’m not your kind of guy.”
“Not even remotely,” she said.
I’d heard what she said back at the gym about wanting to get married, wanting a schedule. No, I was definitely not her kind of guy. “You take my advice yet?” I asked her.
“I thought I just did,” she replied, confused. “Coming to the boxing gym for my anger management problem.”
“No, the other advice. To find someone to fuck.”
The first time I’d suggested it, she’d been outraged. Now she looked out the window pensively and bit her lip. And something inside me woke up and roared to life.She can’t possibly have done it already. It’s only been a few days. No fucking way. She would have—