Chaser (Dive Bar #3)(50)

“Or I can grab something from downstairs?” I offered.

“I had such great plans for tonight,” she said. “I’d picked out recipes and was going to go grocery shopping and everything.”

“You know, I’d be happy with a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.”

“Typical.” She sighed. “I’m out of bread and I ate the last of the peanut butter for dinner last night. Straight out of the bottle with a spoon. It was glorious.”

“Ha. All right, so what have you got?”

Her brows rose. “How do you feel about chicken nuggets?”

“Are you kidding? I love them.”

“Right. I’ll get them cooking.” She jumped off the couch and got busy turning on the oven and stuff. “You find us something to watch.”

“Yes, ma’am.” I sat down and grabbed the remote, started flipping through the channels. No to hockey, home shopping, news, and cooking. But eventually I struck gold. “Top Gun?”

She paused in the act of pouring a box of chicken nuggets onto a baking tray to shoot me a look over her shoulder. “Really?”

“It’s an absolute classic,” I said. “Come on, you can’t not love Top Gun. That would be un-American. Tell me you’ve seen it.”

“Have I seen it … sheesh.” Her lips twitched. “Do you feel the need, Eric? The need for speed?”

“Exactly!”

Giggling, she put a finger to her mouth. “Sleeping baby.”

“Sorry, sorry,” I whispered.

We settled in side by side with a safe amount of space between us. On the big television, jets flew, doing all sorts of amazing shit.

“What would your call sign be?” I asked.

“Hmm. How about: help, I don’t know what I’m doing in this thing?”

I snickered. “Nice.”

“Otherwise, I guess I’d have to stick with the Jean Genie.”

“Good one.” I nodded. “I always wanted to be Maverick.”

“It is the cool name.”

Of course, we had to sing along with the bad karaoke of “You’ve Lost that Loving Feeling.” It was a must. I may have given Jean slight side-eyes during the volleyball scene. Jealousy is a bitch. If she asked, I’d be more than happy to get rid of my shirt and flex some muscle for her to ogle. This thought didn’t make me feel lame and pathetic at all. Much. The action scenes kept us oohing and aahing, and the soundtrack had us tapping our toes. And seriously, Top Gun had been an excellent choice. A great time was being had by all.

Right up until the sex scene. I’d never been so hyperaware that two actors were pretending to get it on ever in my life. We were even munching down on the last of the chicken nuggets by then, and you’d think such a highly unerotic food choice would have helped keep things PG. But it didn’t.

“Great song,” she murmured.

“Mm.”

The screen was blue and gray with the characters in profile and tongues and kissing and oh my god. This was the worst movie choice ever. My dick stirred and my skin tingled. I was such an idiot.

“It’s interestingly shot.” Jean shifted in her seat. “Very atmospheric.”

“Yeah.” I searched for something to say. “Really great song. Like you said.”

“So great.” She nodded, licking her lips and tucking her long hair back. Then she peeked a look at me out of the corner of her eye. “Just … great.”

Like I’d be checking out the naked woman on-screen when she was sitting beside me. Jesus. Why couldn’t they just go back to flying jets and blowing shit up? Or they could kill off the best friend already. Spoiler alert. Yeah, we should maybe fast-forward to that. Surely they had to quit screwing soon.

Jean cleared her throat, squirming some more in her chair.

Meanwhile, I crossed and uncrossed my legs. Nothing felt comfortable.

The damn scene was going on forever. Typical HBO. It just wouldn’t end. On-screen, the woman dug her fingernails into the guy’s back and he was moving over her and holy shit. Much too much. Was the movie X-rated or something?

I shook my head, turned away.

“I know, it’s disgusting,” said Jean with a half-smile.

“Like people actually even do this,” I joked.

“Right? If someone put their tongue in my mouth I’d just bite it off.”

“And you would be well within your rights to do so.”

“Incredibly unhygienic,” she said.

“God only knows what he’s been licking,” I said. “Could have been the floor for all she knows.”

“Or worse.”

“Yeah.”

“Body parts are covered in germs and fluids. Just because we can’t see them, doesn’t mean they’re not there.” Her face had pinked and she kept biting the side of her thumbnail. “It’s all completely gross.”

“Totally,” I said. “And we don’t sound the least bit like twelve-year-olds.”

She laughed. “Not at all.”

Finally the fucking scene ended and we both sank back into the cushions, breathing a sigh of relief. Post–movie coital trauma or something, I guess. At least it hadn’t only been me who’d weirded out. No one warned me watching sex scenes with a female friend would be so hard.