Love and Lists (Chocoholics 1)
Page 2
And that’s me in a nutshell, since the last time you heard about me. Tonight, I spent three hours with Charlotte and let her cry on my shoulder because she got into a fight with Rocco, her boyfriend.
“So did you guys break up or something?”
Please say yes, please say yes.
Charlotte cried harder and pressed her face into the side of my neck while I wrapped my arms around her and held her close.
Is it wrong that I’m thinking about pushing her back onto the couch and making out with her instead of consoling her? I suck.
“He just doesn’t understand me, you know?” Charlotte whimpered and burrowed closer to me.
You’re right. He doesn’t understand you. I’m the only one who understands you. ME!
“Did you just say me?” Charlotte questioned, pulling her face away from my neck and staring up at me.
“Uh, yes. Me totally understand that he doesn’t understand you. Me understand.”
I patted her back lamely and tried to think of something un-caveman-like to say next.
“What did you guys fight about?”
I couldn’t care less but I’m a good guy and good guys ask these sorts of questions.
Charlotte sighed and scooted away from me on the couch, brushing her long brown hair out of her face. “I don’t know. I don’t even remember. It was something stupid. I shouldn’t have come over here and unloaded all of this on you. He really does love me and he’s a great guy.”
She looked up at me with wide, expectant eyes, waiting for me to agree with her that he’s a super human being. Yeah, not gonna happen.
He’s a troll who gets to touch her whenever he wants. He can burn in the fiery pits of hell for all I care.
Charlotte kept looking at me with those gorgeous eyes, and I caved under the pressure.
“You’re right. He’s awesome. I’m sure you guys will be fine.”
Someone get me a bucket to barf in.
I’m jealous, irritated, and horny after holding her so close to me all night and smelling her skin. She always smells like cherry almond. And since I’m slightly obsessed with her, I know that’s because of the lotion she uses: Jergens Original Scent. No, that’s not weird at all. Shut up. It’s probably weird, though, that I stroke the snake using Jergens Original Scent. How about we just pretend I never shared that little tidbit, okay?
My best friend, Tyler Branson, called me when I was on my way home from consoling Charlotte, and he could tell by the sound of my voice that I needed help, so he made an emergency trip to my apartment.
“I think what we need to do here is make a list,” Tyler tells me after he swallows a mouthful of beer.
Tyler was my college roommate. I met him on my first day when I moved into the dorms. I walked into our room with my mom and dad carrying boxes of my crap behind me, only to find him standing naked in the middle of his bed, hanging a poster of Megan Fox on his ceiling.
Tyler likes being naked. Tyler thinks everyone likes seeing him naked because he’s under the impression he has the body of a Greek God. Tyler learned within seven seconds of meeting my mother that women will point and laugh at him when he’s naked. Tyler has been in love with my mother ever since.
“Seriously, bro. We need to make a list. I’m tired of seeing you moping around on your period every single day. You have the most epic job in the history of the world, and that alone should make you happy, but I get it. You need the girl. We’ll get you the girl,” Tyler reassures me as he rummages through the junk drawer in my kitchen for a piece of paper and a pen.
“How’s a list going to help Charlotte fall in love with me?” I question him as he finds what he’s looking for. He smoothes out a crumpled piece of paper on my countertop and writes in big, bold letters across the top: How to Make Charlotte Bang Me.
“That is so not the purpose of this. I don’t want her to bang me,” I complain.
Tyler stares at me with one eyebrow raised.
“Okay, fine!” I relent after a few seconds of his stare-down. “That’s not the ONLY purpose. I can’t just come right out and tell her I love her; she’ll have a heart attack. We’ve known each other since birth and this is going to come out of left field. I need to figure out a way to ease her into it.”
Tyler sighs in annoyance and crosses out the last part of the title and scribbles on the paper again. He turns it around to show me.
How to Make Charlotte Bang Me Love Me. And Turn into a Giant Pussy.
“You’re such a dick.”
Tyler shrugs. “Whatev. You’re still a pu**y. Okay, item number one …”
He pauses, tapping the end of the pen against his chin while he thinks.
“Ooooh, I’ve got it! Show her your penis,” he says aloud as he writes on the paper.
“What?! No! That is not going on the list,” I argue as I try to take the page from him.
He jerks away, rolling his eyes at me.
“This is absolutely going on the list. Chicks need to test out the merchandise before they can make a decision. Do you honestly think she’s going to love you if she thinks you might be harboring a pinky-peen in your pants?”
There’s really no use in arguing with him at this point. Tyler is going to do whatever the f**k he wants. It’s best to just humor him. It’s not like I’m ever going to really use the list so who cares?
“Fine. But it’s not going as number one.”
Tyler smiles in victory and crosses out what he wrote, moving further down the page and rewriting it with a number five in front of it.