Raging Heart On (Lucas Brothers #2)(15)

"You are a dirty girl, Kayla Graham."

"Look who’s talking. Start my movie."

"Yes, mistress. If you can manage to even enjoy it on such a small screen."

"I'm about to share with you a sad fact of life, White. Brace yourself."

"I'm bracing, but mostly because I'm afraid of you now."

"Chicken."

"Share with me your wisdom, wise one," he quips and I stick my tongue out at him.

"The sad truth is that size matters in this world."

"You don't say."

I pat him on the shoulder like I'm feeling sorry for him, "I'm afraid so."

"You know what else matters in this world?"

"What's that?"

"Being a smart ass. Keep it up and I'm going to paddle you."

"Do you know that's the second time lately you've threatened that? I guess all those articles were right."

"What articles?"

"The ones saying that White Hall Lucas likes his sex kinky."

"Oh God, please tell me you don't read those gossip magazines. And what are you doing reading about my sex life, Kayla? That's just creepy. I demand you stop at once."

"Hey, I can’t help it that you're plastered all over the front of the paper! I go there to work my morning crossword. It's not my fault."

"I'll buy you a book of crosswords instead," he grumbles.

"Giant print," I mutter, ignoring him for the television.

I eat my food, choosing to ignore him for the magic that is Hugh Grant and Julia Roberts. I'm surprised when White reaches over and grabs my now empty plate.

"You want more?"

"What?" I half look at him, loving the part where Julia is in the tub when Spike comes in.

"Seconds, Buttercup. Do you want them?"

"Umm... no, but I wouldn't mind another pop."

"Yes, oh Mistress of the curved television."

"Yeah, yeah."

"I'll help you get the television this weekend if you want."

"Really? Are you sure? What about your arm?"

"I doubt picking out a TV is going to hurt my arm, Buttercup."

"I guess you're right. We can always get a stock person to load it up for us."

"I can load a f*cking television, Kayla."

"Whatever, but we'll have to do it Sunday."

"That's fine. I don't have anything planned. Why Sunday, though?"

"I have plans, Saturday."

"You do? I thought you broke things off with Tommy?"

"I did. That doesn't mean I can't still have plans, White."

"Well yeah, I know. It just surprised me. It's cool. We'll plan on it Sunday. I was just hoping you'd go watch the new Rock movie with me this weekend."

"Well, normally I'd never pass up a chance to see the Rock. He is my future husband and all, but I'm going on a date."

"Who with?"

"You have a lot of questions. When did you get so nosy?"

"When I found out that my best friend was getting married to an ass clown and I had no idea. So now I have this need to ask you everything. Therefore, I repeat, who is this date with?"

"I don't know," I sigh, wishing I had never brought this conversation up.

"You don't… Wait, let’s back it up here. How do you have a date this weekend and not know who it is with?"

"Because technically it’s not a date. I'm going to Barney’s."

"Well, Jesus, why didn't you just say that Kayla? I'll go with you. We can swing by there after the movies."

"No, that won't work."

"Okay after."

"No. I mean you can't go with me. It would defeat the purpose."

"The purpose?" he asks, and I take a breath to prepare myself.

"I'm going there to get laid. Having you around as my wingman doesn't really work, since all the men would think they would have to compete with you."

"That's crazy. We're just friends. We don't give off a couple vibe," he says carelessly, and has no idea how much that hurts my feelings.

"Yeah, you're probably right," I agree, ignoring the pain in my gut as I admit that out loud. "Still, I'm going this one solo."

"I don't like the idea of you having a random hookup. That's not who you are, Buttercup. Hell, you didn't sleep with Crenshaw for half a damn year."

"I should have made him wait longer."

"You should have made him wait, period."

"There's no arguing with that.”

"You're not a random-hookup kind of girl, honey."

“How do you know?”

"I've had those girls. Those girls are not you."

"I've decided to be that kind of girl," I tell him, getting up from the floor and walking to the kitchen. There's no movie watching with this conversation, anyway.

"What the f*ck for?" he barks, following me like a dog with a freaking bone. Leaving me to wish again that I hadn’t opened my mouth around him at all.