into her stomach. Mortified, I reach down and adjust myself. Stupid penis, he really needs to stop being such a perve.
Breezy is laughing like crazy. “Poor Max, did Little Max miss his barfly pussy last night?”
I shake my head and push her off me. “No, I think Little Max has a crush on your boobs. If you were any lower, he was going to use your boobs as buns and pretend to be a hotdog.”
“Nice try, Mr. Smooth, but if you’re looking to make a boobdog, you’re going to have to find another girl.”
“Shucks, and here I thought my wooing capabilities were working.”
“I’m immune to your woo. Don’t forget; I know what goes on behind that door over there.” She motions to my bedroom and smiles. “Despite your penis frisking my stomach, I have to say, last night was one of the best nights ever. Thanks for making me feel better, Max.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“No, it’s not your fault. I was just angry and needed someone to take it out on.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Travis is stupid. I’m sure in a couple weeks, he will wake up, realize exactly what he lost, and come running back to you. He’d be a fool not to.”
“You really think so?” She asks.
“I know so, Breezy. Now, what should we have for breakfast?”
She looks up at me with a goofy grin. “Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, of course!”
“Of course,” I grin, “I’ll get the spoons.”
By the time noon rolls around, were both still in the clothes we fell asleep in, and the entire living room looks like a preteen slumber party. We’re back on the couch and Breezy’s head is in my lap, her hand playing with mine that’s hanging over the back of the couch.
“Max, why can’t all guys be as sweet as you?”
“I’m one in a million. They don’t make them like me anymore. I broke the mold.”
“That’s so cliché,” she groans.
I smile down at her. “Do you disagree?”
“No, of course not. You’d be the perfect man if you weren’t such a man-whore.”
Shit. Seriously? She just had to bring up the man-whore thing, didn’t she? Here I am, making sure she’s feeling good, and she has to bring up my bordello of barflies again. When I’m quiet for a little too long, she looks up at me.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “It was a joke, Max.”
“I know,” I reply quickly. This is the closest that I’ve ever been to revealing why I’m such a man-whore. I want to tell her. I wish I could just blurt out that I’m in love with her, but the thought of losing her is too much to bear.
“Max? Why do you look like you’re in pain right now?” She gently cups my face and uses the tips of her fingers to play with my facial scruff. I didn’t get a chance to shave this morning, so it’s quite pokey at the moment. Without thinking, my head careens into her hand and I nuzzle her palm.
“I was thinking about some things. Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, removing her hand from my face. “What do you say about us going out tonight? Just you, me, and a lot of alcohol.”
“You know I don’t like to drink that much.” She scrunches her nose at me.
“I know, but sometimes having a little fun after a break-up is the only way to get over the pain.”
She is quiet for a few seconds and then smiles. “Will you take me swing dancing instead?”
“You know I don’t dance.”
“I know, but I really want to dance. Last night was fun, and I want to keep that good feeling going. Will you take me dancing?”
“Fine, but I’m calling for back up. I’m not going to be the only uncoordinated white man on that dance floor.”
“Ugh, does it have to be Tony?”
“He is my wing man, but I guess if he comes tonight, he’ll be more like my swing man, huh?” I grin until I realize what I said could be taken entirely out of context. Breezy also notices it, because she’s giggling.
“Why, Max, I didn’t know you swung that way.”
“Shut up, you. You know I’m not
Breezy is laughing like crazy. “Poor Max, did Little Max miss his barfly pussy last night?”
I shake my head and push her off me. “No, I think Little Max has a crush on your boobs. If you were any lower, he was going to use your boobs as buns and pretend to be a hotdog.”
“Nice try, Mr. Smooth, but if you’re looking to make a boobdog, you’re going to have to find another girl.”
“Shucks, and here I thought my wooing capabilities were working.”
“I’m immune to your woo. Don’t forget; I know what goes on behind that door over there.” She motions to my bedroom and smiles. “Despite your penis frisking my stomach, I have to say, last night was one of the best nights ever. Thanks for making me feel better, Max.”
“Are you still mad at me?”
“No, it’s not your fault. I was just angry and needed someone to take it out on.”
“Well, if it’s any consolation, Travis is stupid. I’m sure in a couple weeks, he will wake up, realize exactly what he lost, and come running back to you. He’d be a fool not to.”
“You really think so?” She asks.
“I know so, Breezy. Now, what should we have for breakfast?”
She looks up at me with a goofy grin. “Chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream, of course!”
“Of course,” I grin, “I’ll get the spoons.”
By the time noon rolls around, were both still in the clothes we fell asleep in, and the entire living room looks like a preteen slumber party. We’re back on the couch and Breezy’s head is in my lap, her hand playing with mine that’s hanging over the back of the couch.
“Max, why can’t all guys be as sweet as you?”
“I’m one in a million. They don’t make them like me anymore. I broke the mold.”
“That’s so cliché,” she groans.
I smile down at her. “Do you disagree?”
“No, of course not. You’d be the perfect man if you weren’t such a man-whore.”
Shit. Seriously? She just had to bring up the man-whore thing, didn’t she? Here I am, making sure she’s feeling good, and she has to bring up my bordello of barflies again. When I’m quiet for a little too long, she looks up at me.
“Are you okay?” she asks. “It was a joke, Max.”
“I know,” I reply quickly. This is the closest that I’ve ever been to revealing why I’m such a man-whore. I want to tell her. I wish I could just blurt out that I’m in love with her, but the thought of losing her is too much to bear.
“Max? Why do you look like you’re in pain right now?” She gently cups my face and uses the tips of her fingers to play with my facial scruff. I didn’t get a chance to shave this morning, so it’s quite pokey at the moment. Without thinking, my head careens into her hand and I nuzzle her palm.
“I was thinking about some things. Don’t worry about it,” I tell her, removing her hand from my face. “What do you say about us going out tonight? Just you, me, and a lot of alcohol.”
“You know I don’t like to drink that much.” She scrunches her nose at me.
“I know, but sometimes having a little fun after a break-up is the only way to get over the pain.”
She is quiet for a few seconds and then smiles. “Will you take me swing dancing instead?”
“You know I don’t dance.”
“I know, but I really want to dance. Last night was fun, and I want to keep that good feeling going. Will you take me dancing?”
“Fine, but I’m calling for back up. I’m not going to be the only uncoordinated white man on that dance floor.”
“Ugh, does it have to be Tony?”
“He is my wing man, but I guess if he comes tonight, he’ll be more like my swing man, huh?” I grin until I realize what I said could be taken entirely out of context. Breezy also notices it, because she’s giggling.
“Why, Max, I didn’t know you swung that way.”
“Shut up, you. You know I’m not
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