A Not So Meet Cute

You’re a good man, Huxley Cane.”

Hell, if he only knew.

The clanging of spoons in our soup bowls is the only sound in the dining room. The silence is so deafening that if someone walked in, they’d think they were walking in on a funeral.

A funeral for my self-respect.

“Our newest couple, Hanley and Lonnie. Now, you look uncomfortable.”

First of all, it’s Huxley and Lottie.

Second of all, we weren’t prepared for a goddamn orgy when coming to this class.

Third of all, yeah, we’re uncomfortable, because we’ve never conceived or attempted to, for fuck’s sake.

“I don’t think there’s a lot of bending in this class.”

“Have you been to one of these before?”

I give her a look. “Do you think I’ve been to one of these before?”

She shrugs. “I don’t know what you do in your spare time.”

“Not this,” I almost hiss.

Huxley: Ask me a question, we’ve been too quiet on this ride.

Lottie: Uh . . . what did you have for breakfast?

Huxley: Jesus Christ. Out loud. Ask me a question out loud.

“Oh,” I say quietly and then chuckle. Facing Huxley, I ask, “How’s your rash doing?”

His eyes narrow and I have to hold back the straight-up outburst of laughter that threatens to slip past my lips.

“Rash is fine,” he answers through clenched teeth. “But now that you bring it up, is your yeast infection improving?”

“One thing you need to get straight, Lottie—I always make sense.”

My eyes connect with his. “You’re so narcissistic.”

“Confident,” he replies.

“A cockhole.”

His brows raise. “What the hell is a cockhole?”

“Cocky asshole. Therefore, you’re a cockhole.”

“Uh, I don’t know, you could’ve given me a heads-up about who might be in the meeting. Am I supposed to play doting fiancée, or irritated shrew?”

“As much as I enjoy irritated shrew . . . you call the spectacle you just laid out doting fiancée? That was awkward woman unsure of what to do.”

“Because you put me in that position.

You didn’t give me a kiss goodbye.”

Pushing past him, I say, “Crawl up your own scrotum and drown.”

“You’re dreadful, you know that?”

“You’re no ray of sunshine yourself.”

Even though he’s at least a foot taller than me, I step up to him, crank my head back, and say, “I hope you have a sleepless night.”

“Sweet nightmares,” he replies back with such a level of snark that I think I might have met my match.

“Nothing is off limits in the house. What’s mine is yours.”

“Oh, so no threat to stay out of the west wing?”

His brow knits in confusion.

“You know, like from Beauty and the Beast.”

“Are you comparing me to the Beast?”

“Not quite. He seemed to have more manners when dealing with his captive.”

“I don’t find that amusing.”

“Shocking,”