Good Lord.
“Well, go use it on your wife, man. Why am I your only target when you get a slang-itch?”
Taron folded his arms across his chest. “Because, Beauty, you wouldn’t threaten to divorce me in return. You’re a formidable option.”
“Ohmygod,” I muttered, just as Sienna yelled, “Uncle Myles! Tell Grandma to gimme a mug of hot chocolate!”
I closed my eyes and let go of a long breath. “Mom, just give her the damn hot chocolate already.”
“Language, Myles!” my mom countered.
“Sorry,” I mumbled, just as my phonepingedback-to-back with new messages.
“Looks likeChestHairwants your attention,” Taron said.
I glared at him. “Ha-ha.Veryfunny.”
He laughed. “You get back to your texting, and I’ll go handle my girl,” he told me.
I chuckled, and bumped a fist against his as he walked past me and toward our family.
Alone again, I opened Rina’s messages.
Rina:Myles? Hello?
Rina:You still there?
She was cute, wasn’t she?
Me:Yup, here. Taron just called you Chest Hair, by the way.
Fuck. I don’t know why I just texted her that.
Rina:I’m sorry, WHAT?
I put my tongue to my cheek.
Me:Forget I said that, please.
Rina:I’m not even sure I fully understand what you meant by that anyway.
Me:Pretend I didn’t say it, then.
Rina:Impossible. That text is literally there, staring me in the face.
Me:You’re not a chest hair, Rina, I promise.
Rina:I’m so confused right now…
Rina:And scared.
I couldn’t help but laugh.
Me:I’m sorry•´ ? ,•`
Rina:Lol. Forgiven(? ³?)
Me:You still want me to come over?
