She’s a urologist. It’s not weird.
Jake Reid
It’s weird.
Logan Clark
You’re weird.
Cole Berrett
This conversation is weird.
Cameron Davies
This conversation is over.
I pull up a web browser and search “period care package,” then quickly purchase several suggestions that appear. Once I get the order confirmation, I toss my phone next to me. What to do now? Sighing, I scan the area around me and… bingo. The TV remote is nestled under a throw pillow within arm’s reach, so I grab it and hit the power button.
Big mistake.
And I meanbig.
The world’s longest, thickest tattooed dick appears on the screen.
I thought Kennedy was kidding when she said she looked at porn for realistic inspiration, but apparently, she’s honest to a fault. And ifthisis the sort of dick she’s been looking at… it’s a good thing I kept mine in my pants. I’ve been told I’m on the larger side, but this dude’s equipment looks more like a signed baseball bat than a dick.Jesus Christ. I bet the video’s calledWeapon of Ass DestructionorThe Full Packageor something corny like that.
Not wanting to watch an XL energy drink–sized dick get it on, I click to the main screen.
Oh, look at that—the video’s calledSweaty Sex with Stavros.
I scroll through Kennedy’s recently watched shows, all of which are reality TV. There’s a winter baking competition, several versions of a dating show calledLove Island,Survivor, and about five city variations ofThe Real Housewivesfranchise. Head dropped back against the cushion, I search my memory, trying to recall which one she raved about at the Copper Lantern.The Real Housewives of Las Vegassounds right, so I pull up season one, episode one, lower the volume, turn on subtitles, and pressplay.
As the closing credits of the second episode play, Kennedy’s eyes flutter open, unfocused and glassy. Her face scrunches up as she blinks at the screen, then at me, then back at the screen.
“Am I still asleep, or are you watchingThe Real Housewives of Las Vegasright now?” she mumbles, her words rough and a little indignant, like she can’t believe I’d watch this show without her.
“You said it was good.” I run my fingers through her hair, the blond locks silky beneath my hand.
She lifts her head, blinking at me in confusion, peers at the TV once more, then flops back against my chest with a soft thud. “You’ve watched two episodes already?”
I nod. “Please tell me Bridget gets better. She’s only had ten total minutes of screen time, but she’s unbearable.”
She chuckles, the sound drowsy. “Wait until season four. She grows on you. And for the record, our relationship may be fake, but my hurt feelings areveryreal. It’s like Relationship 101 that you can’t watch an episode of our show without your significant other.”
I huff a confused breath. “Our show?”
“Yes,The Real Housewives of Las Vegasis officially our show.”
“We can’t have a show,” I tell her. “I travel too much.”
Gigi always harped on me about not being caught up. She’d get impatient waiting for me and then end up burning through entire seasons while I was gone. I’d come home and she’d start out apologetic, only to end up talking about plot points I hadn’t seen yet.
“Lucky for you, I’ve already seen every episode.”
I shake my head. “Please don’t tell me you expect me to watch all of them.”
She blinks once, twice, then topples sideways onto the cushion next to me, laughter shaking her whole body. “You lookterrified. Oh my God.”
