The Randy Romance Novelist(78)
“That’s preposterous. I was just joking!” Not really, but the lady didn’t need to know that. “I want my money back!”
“No refunds. Now, is there anything else I can help you with?”
“Oh, you just got on my bad side,” I threatened. “Expect a nasty review coming your way when you go into work tomorrow. This will not be the last you hear of me.”
The phone went dead. The bitch hung up on me.
“How dare she!”
I was seconds from redialing the phone number to give her a piece of my mind when I turned to find Delaney’s head voluntarily buried in Alejandro’s bush. My entire body revolted, sweat slicked my skin, and the familiar feeling of needing to be sick hit me hard.
Not wanting to make a mess near Alejandro’s crotch . . . again, I sprinted off to the bathroom, where I knelt in front of the toilet, and for the first time felt the effects of little Beelzebub.
By the time I was able to peel myself off the floor, the party was winding down, Delaney was passed out on the floor, and Alejandro was stuffing his junk into a pair of sweats. He looked up at me and smiled.
Pointing his finger in recognition, he said, “Ah, Roseanne, right?”
“Rosie,” I quickly corrected him.
“That’s right. You’re the bonita that threw up on my crotch.”
“Because I choked on one of your pubes!” I defended myself. “It’s called a razor; try it.”
“Why would I do such a thing? The ladies love a man who is comfortable in his natural state of being. This right here,” he waved at his body, “is one hundred percent natural. Just ask your friend over there. She spent a good five minutes buried in my male scent.”
“Nope,” I shook my head and held up my hand. “Don’t call it that. For the love of God, do not call it that.” My stomach began to churn again.
“Aw, you’re a sensitive little darling. Well, I will tell you this, I’ve gotten over what happened between us. If you would like to try again, I have time before my next showing.” He casually walked over to me and tilted my chin up so I was forced to look him in the eyes.
“Ew.”
I said it before I could even think about what was coming out of my mouth. I blame the kid.
Insulted, Alejandro dropped my chin and walked away. “Your loss. Good luck finding such finesse like myself.”
He wadded up his ones and took off toward the front door. Relieved, I looked down at Delaney and sighed. It was time to call Derk.
Chapter Seventeen
Sniff, Sniff, Kiss, Kiss
HENRY
Once Derk got the signal from Rosie to come peel his fiancée off the ground, he bolted out of her apartment, ending our poker game immediately. That was an hour ago, and Rosie was nowhere to be found.
Sir Licks-a-Lot and I now sat on the couch together, waiting for the lady of the house to return. This morning, I was a little shocked to see that Rosie had left without saying good bye, and I was shocked that I was able to sleep through it all. Recently, I hadn’t been sleeping very well because I was worried about the job, worried about Rosie, and worried about our future.
Last night after hearing I got the job, I was actually able to put my mind at ease and get some much-needed sleep.
Once I realized she was gone for the day, I called up Derk, and we met at the jeweler. I had no idea what size finger Rosie had, so I made sure to get something a little bigger in case she had to size it down. She didn’t have sausage fingers by any means, but I still didn’t want to chance it.
Derk wasn’t the best at picking out rings. His picks were all modern, things that would suit Delaney well, but not Rosie. My girl was old school, she appreciated vintage jewelry. Luckily, the jeweler had a line of engagement rings that were perfect for Rosie’s style. I ended up picking one that had three stones, representing the past, present, and future with filigree on the side, a design I knew Rosie would love.
Within an hour, I had purchased an engagement ring, and now I was just trying to figure out the perfect time to propose. I wanted to propose before we talked about the baby. Knowing Rosie, she would assume I was only proposing because of the baby, which wasn’t the case at all.
“Where is she?” I asked Sir Licks-a-Lot, who found his way onto my lap. I was scratching his head, wondering when this relationship had started. “Do you think she will like the ring?”
Pretty sure if I gave him a chance, he would shit on the ring.
“Yeah, I think so. She’ll love it. Now, how should I propose? I’m guessing strapping it to your collar for a cute pet proposal wouldn’t go over well.” He sneezed and I took that as a no. “I could do it here in the apartment. I could ask her out at the beach where her parents live, or back at campus where we first met. Going on vacation is always an option as well. Give her a little distance from you.”
His ears drew back in discontentment.
“Hey, it’s your own fault. You steal her bras, hack up hairballs on her shoes, and beat her at games she wants so desperately to win. She gives you opportunities to be friends, but you don’t take them. I honestly don’t understand what your issue is. Are you gay? Is that why you love me so much? If you’re a homosexual feline, we will be one hundred percent okay with that and support you in any way we can. I don’t mind going to gay bars for cats, seems like it would be a good time. And I know Rosie would be supportive, but if that’s the case, you have to let us know.”