“Seriously, I'll squirt lemon juice in your eye if you don't leave me alone.” I was not in the mood for tomfoolery. Tomfoolery? I like it, I must use it again soon, but out loud next time.
“Aww, don’t be like that, kitten.” Martin Matthew McDonald looked at me over the rim of his coffee mug. “Let me drink my coffee in peace and then I’ll leave, I promise.”
“Why did you sleep over, again? Please refresh my memory.” I rubbed at my temples then added agave nectar to my tea.
“After the third go round with Hook, I was spent. You showed me mercy since I showed you such a good time.”
“Marty, it’s a little immature to refer to your penis by a nickname. But, yea, that’s right.”
“I’m not the only man out there giving a name to his magnificent member. By the way, sweet cheeks, there’s absolutely nothing emotional attached to my adult sleep over.”
“You can say that again, Marty.” I’ve always called him Marty. He was named after his father and it creeped me out to use his given name.
“Do I really have to?”
I gave him The Look. “Really, dude, it’s way too freaking early for humor. That’s strictly reserved for after regulation brunch times.”
“Look, kitten, I only see you once every couple of months, can’t you bench the bitchy? Or, at least pretend you like me being here until I leave.”
“How would you know I was pretending after you leave? Then, you might wonder if I was pretending the whole time, you know like faking it.”
“What makes you use a word like brunch anyway? Who has brunch these days?”
I ignored his question. People still have brunch, don’t they? “Well, here’s the deal, I’ve got to get to work soon. It’s draft day and you know how busy that gets.”
“I wouldn’t exactly know, I must take your word for it. You never let me help.” Marty took a longer sip of the now cooled coffee.
“Not mixing my personal friendships with business. It would never turn out well, and since I enjoy our bi-monthly sex summit, you will stay far away from my daily grind.”
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