“Hold on,” he said.“Joshua Maxine Lockhartjust uttered the wordlove.”
I glared at him, but he was already grinning.
“Yeah,” I said flatly. “Joshua Maxine Lockhart just uttered the word love. You happy now?”
He laughed, leaning back in his chair with his hands behind his head. “Oh, this is going in the history books. I’m printing it. Framing it. Maybe even tattooing it.”
“Shut up,” I muttered, picking my fork back up. “I just… I needed to let it out somewhere, okay? Didn’t know who else to talk to. So I went to my mom.”
“Wow, gee, thanks,” he said. “As if I wasn’t right here.”
I gave him a look. “You literally told me to stay away from her.”
He paused, pointing his fork at me. “Fair. But still. You’re an asshole, and I would’ve stilllistened.”
I smirked a little. “You? Listen?”
He grinned back. “Well, I’d mock you the entire time, but yeah. I’d listen.”
We both went quiet for a bit, just the sound of forks scraping plates.
I leaned back in my chair, picking at the edge of the napkin. “You really do nag at me a lot, you know that?”
Alex didn’t even look up from his drink. “Yeah. And? I’m older”
“By three weeks and a day.”
“Still older, twat.”
His Britishness pisses me off… a lot.
“I’m just saying,” I went on. “You scold me, tell me what to do, boss me around like I’m your fucking intern. You ever think about how much you order me around?”
He shrugged. “Yeah. Because you’re an asshole and you do dumb shit.”
I stared at him. “So why don’t you just, I don’t know, leave? Stop being friends with me if I’m such an asshole.”
He finally looked up, that signature bored expression in his eyes. “Because,” he said, “I’m also an asshole.”
I paused. Then nodded slowly. “You know what? Yeah. That’s fair. You are an asshole.”
“Exactly,” he said, stabbing his fork into his pasta as if he’d just won an argument.
I smirked. “What if I, like, killed someone?”
He didn’t even blink. “I have enough money to bail you out of jail; don’t test me.”
I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head. “You’d help me hide the body, huh?”
He shrugged again, casual as ever. “I’d probably kill someone before you get to.”
I leaned back, grinning. “Okay, you’re loyal.”
He gave me a flat look. “Took you ten years to realise I was loyal?”
“Yeah, well,” I said, sipping my drink. “You hide it under all the bitchiness.”
“Yeah, well,” he mocked back, smirking. “You hide your feelings under all the football and trauma.”
