Her words made me think—I’d cooked steak and chicken recently, just assuming she was okay with it. Had she only eaten it out of politeness?
Clearing my throat, I raised the question. It was better to know than not to know. “So, are you a vegetarian?”
“No, that’s cruel, too. One minute they’re in the ground or whatever, growing and reaching for the sun. The next, they’re trapped in packaging. Who does that to defenseless creatures?”
Jesus, it was hard not to laugh.
“I know,” she squealed, making me jerk the wheel slightly. “We should go and set them all free. Like when you go to a laboratory and set the animals free, we’ll set the ones in the shops free!”
“What about the vegetables?”
“Yes, we’ll set them all free as well.”
“Uh,” I hedged, mental images of her throwing chicken cutlets, steaks, and shit around, making me feel torn between panicking and laughing my ass off. “Let’s not and say we did.”
“Ah, but that’s fibbing!”
I didn’t have anything to say to that. To be honest, I was worried that if we continued this conversation, she’d jump out when I stopped and run to the nearest store to do it, so I just kept quiet.
It didn’t last long, though.
“Elijah?” she asked softly, pulling at my heartstrings.
“Yeah, pixie?”
“If I die—”
“You’re not gonna die,” I snapped, my mood plummeting immediately. What the fuck?
“No, man, you don’t get it. This is important.”—Man? Again, what the fuck?—“If I die, will you do something for me?”
She wasn’t going to, but I could see repeating that would be problematic. “Anything.”
“Delete my search history. Being around your family has made me Google random shit, and I don’t want people thinking I was a fucked up weirdo.” There was a moment of silence, then she added, “And do it on my laptop, iPad, and phone. I can’t remember which one I used for what.”
I wasn’t sure what to think about it. I mean, we’d gone from setting packaged meat and vegetables free to deleting the search history on all of her devices. I was fairly sure I had mental whiplash from the rapid change in topics.
But then the true meaning behind what she’d just asked me to do sank in.
I swear I couldn’t have stopped myself from asking what I did even if I’d tried, which I didn’t. “What sort of shit we talking about?”
“Butt plugs,” she shrugged, making me choke on the saliva I’d been swallowing. “Vibrators. Vibrating eggs. Nipple clamps. How big a butt plug can get after Charlotte told me about one. What an arsehole would look like after it’d had something that big in it. What blue waffle really is.” All of it was said as its own sentence and in a tone that made it out like it was perfectly normal to look at shit like that. Then she hit her stride. “Sex beads, sex chairs, how droopy balls can get—”
This time when I swerved, it was sharp enough that she hit the door. “What the fuck?”
“Gravity isn’t kind, Elijah,” she shrugged, sounding like a teacher. “Those balls have to go somewhere, and that where is down. I was curious if they’d touch the ground, but so far, there aren’t any photos. It makes me wonder if there’s a nip tuck type of surgery for them, like with boobies. I’m going to have a nip tuck. I’m going to donate some of my dirty pillows—”
“You go in for surgery on your breasts, and we’ve got problems, pixie,” I growled, hating that she’d even consider it. “You’re perfect the way you are.”
“Aww, Elijah,” she sang. “Thank you. And I think your bollocks are just fine the way they are, too. Pretty little balls of glitter.”
And with that, she thankfully passed out, leaving me wondering what the fuck had just happened.
I’m not gonna lie, it also made me curious about looking at her search history.“Hey,” she murmured, bringing me out of my thoughts. “How’s your day?”
Grinning at her, I leaned closer to her across the top of the bar. “I was just thinking about your search history,” I whispered, then burst out laughing when her cheeks went bright red.
Of course I’d reminded her what she’d said. I’d also asked her to show me some of it—some of which I regretted afterward.
“Shut up,” she hissed, looking around us to see if anyone had overheard. “You said you’d never tell anyone.”
“Ah, but technically I’m not telling anyone. I’m talking to you about it.”
Rolling her eyes, she straightened up and then froze when she saw something over my shoulder. Following where she was looking, I saw Shonelle talking to her friends and glaring at Sadie as she told them whatever it was that was so fascinating.
Shit, I better tell her about the parking lot before the bitch did.
“Pixie,” I called, getting her focus back onto me as I held my arm up. “She caught me as I was walking in.”