“Hey, Jordan?” Eric’s in the hallway and I can hear his hurried footsteps coming my way.
I flatten my body to the rug and figure I can use the couch as a shield and just pretend I’m not home. He will look in, not see me, then leave. Fuck it, I’ll play dead for good measure.
“Where are you, babe?” He sounds closer now. I think he's outside the door.
Shit, I forgot I called for help. Better start holding my breath then. Dead it is. R.I.P me.
“Jordan, are you okay?”
I say nothing and listen to every step he takes. I just need him to leave so that I can call and tell him and lie through my teeth about this whole shitshow.
“Lashes, I can see your legs sticking out from behind the couch.”
Shit. I try to pull them out of view, but these fucking pants make it impossible. “I’m not here.”Fuck. I was supposed to stay silent.
“Jordan?”
I can hear him walking closer to the couch, but I can’t see him because my eyes are shut tight.
“Wha—” he starts, but evidently there are no words to describe this tragedy. “Okay, I’m going to pretend you’re not lying on the floor with your pants around your knees.”
I peek through my eyelid. With my sight slightly blurred, I spot him standing there with hands on his hips.
“Do you need another five to get ready?” Eric ventures.
I would snort if I wasn’t dead. But I am, so I act accordingly.
“Okay, Lashes, can you tell me what’s going on?”
“Can’t talk, dead.”
He has no problem with snorting. The fucker. I’m dead and he thinks it’s funny.
“Be sad!” I try to open my mouth as little as possible. “Mourn me.”
“Oh, no! Whatever will I do without your smart mouth in my life?”
I appreciate the attempt, but he could have added way more feeling.
“And all these plans I had for you tonight after our date, Lashes! Licking every inch of your body. Rimming you till you come on my satin sheets. All wasted, because you’re dead.”
“Would you fuck me afterwards?” I ask quizzically, still pretending to be a corpse.
“All… night… long.” He knows what his words do to me. And I’m so tempted to break my act, but I’m still lying half-naked on the floor. “But since you’re dead, someone else will have to do.”
I sit up immediately with a loud gasp, forcing myself to ignore how the room spins slightly. “You wouldn’t.”
“Oh, look. He lives. It’s a miracle.” Eric spreads his arms up to the ceiling like he's thanking the Lord.
“I was dead for five minutes! You should have mourned me at least for a month before moving on.” I shoot him my best Marilyn Monroe pout, and his smile changes into a sexy, dimpled smirk. “No, nope. You do not get to distract me with your stupid handsome face.”He sooo distracts me.“A month, Dimples, at least cry over me for a month.”
“Two weeks, tops.”
Is he really negotiating with me?
“Three.” I feel like I should stand my ground. I mean, we’re talking about my death here. It’s serious shit.
“Done.”
