I stood, flipped off the asshole who’d just destroyed my social life, and strode toward the door. The curvy chick opened it wide for me before I even remembered she was still standing there.
“Thanks,” I mumbled. “After you.”
I leaned into the door frame as I propped the door open with my elbow and gestured for her to walk ahead. Avoiding my eyes, she slipped past me with a muttered thank-you.
As the door clicked shut behind us, I said to her, “Yeah, well, a hand job may be nice, but I guess that’s out after what I promised inside there.” I tilted my head back toward the studio and laughed at my own joke.
She turned and shot me a hard glare, her oversized sweatshirt sagging off one shoulder.
Most other girls I knew would have been fine if I dropped trou right there and whipped my dick right the fuck out. Their hands would have been just itching to grab me. But not this one.
“Kidding. I was kidding.” I lifted my hands in the air in surrender.
All of a sudden, I felt ashamed of my behavior. I wasn’t that guy. Was I?
She raised an eyebrow, making me question my character some more.
“I’m serious. Kidding. Listen, don’t let him boss you around. Once upon a time, Sonny was an intern too. A lowly, pimply one.”
“I’ll keep that in mind.” Her words were thick with an East Coast accent and heavy with doubt. “See you around,” she said, dismissing me at the supply closet.
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