Page 199 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
I gave her one more once-over, observing her stance. “You sure you’re okay?”
“Uh, yeah.” She sounded annoyed. “I bumped into a wall; I didn’t fall into an abyss. Now, let’s get this competition going. Stop stalling.”
“Okay.” Like the dutiful boyfriend I was, I picked up Sir Licks-a-Lot and placed him in front of blowup Derk. I had no clue how this was going to work, so I carefully spun him around in five circles and then covered his face with my hand so he couldn’t see.
We stared at him as he sat right in front of the poster . . . unmoving. I waited in anticipation for him to lift his paw, but he was stagnant; it didn’t even look like he was breathing.
“What’s going on?” I asked. “Is this what he did last time?”
Rosie shrugged. “I didn’t spin him last time. I just let him swipe.”
I bent over, with my hand over a cat’s eyes while I waited for it to swat at my best friend’s crotch. This was beyond stupid.
Talk about one’s life changing once they were in a relationship. I never thought I would spend my Friday nights with a pregnant girlfriend and a cat whose favorite pastime was licking his junk.
But, here I was, and guess what? I wouldn’t change it for the world.
“Should we call it a forfeit?”
Rosie shushed me and then whispered. “No, he’s thinking. I can tell in the way his ears are tilted back. I’ve spent enough time with this cat to know when he’s about to move. Just give it a second.”
Out of nowhere, Sir Licks-a-Lot lifted his paw and swatted Derk’s crotch, right on the mark, leaving a wet paw print on the picture.
Both Rosie and I stood there, flabbergasted by his uncanny accuracy. I kind of wanted to applaud the cat, give him a high paw, because damn was he good.
From the corner of my eye, I could see Rosie’s chest start to rise and fall at a rapid rate, and I prepared for the worst. My shoulders tightened up, I squinted and waited for the tidal wave of emotion from losing to a cat at pin the penis once again.
“Son of a bitch,” Rosie yelled. I knew it wasn’t good, because she never swore. Arms pumping, she power-walked to the penis piñata, where she booted it straight into the air and then stormed off to the bedroom, the door slamming behind her.
I glanced at a smug looking Sir Licks-a-Lot and said, “Thanks. You just made my night exponentially harder.” I couldn’t help it, though. The cat had skills, so I leaned over and gave him knuckles. To my surprise he lifted his paw and met my hand halfway. “Got to hand it to you, bud, you nailed that crotch.”
The boys of the apartment had to stick together when the pregnant demon was storming around.
Turning toward the bedroom, I took a deep breath and made the deathly walk to hell. It felt like lava and fire were booming next to me as I drew closer and closer to the bedroom door. I could hear pounding on the other side with the faint sounds of swearing. The only reason I decided to go in was because I was afraid she might cause harm to the baby; otherwise, I would have let her figure out her devastating loss by herself.
Preparing for the worst, I let myself into the pit of lava-filled hell. Just as I suspected, on the other side was Rosie losing her damn mind. Straddling my pillow, she threw blow after blow with her fists to the feather-down cocoon. I prayed she didn’t ruin the shape.
“Uh, hey, love. Everything okay?”
Her entire body contorted into something I’d only seen fromThe Exorcist,and danger danced in her eyes as she stared me down. A deep voice bellowed out of her, scaring me right out of my socks. “Does it look like I’m okay?”
The scene was straight out of a horror film. Sweet woman mutated and possessed so now she spoke the devil’s tongue in a dark and scary voice. The kind of voice that you heard and swore snakes popped out of their mouth when they spoke.
My lip trembled as I tried to gain my composure. Sweat kissed the back of my neck and the urge to pee was overwhelming. I backed away from the pillow-beating Beelzebub and held up my hands.
“Um, I’m just going to let you finish up here. I’ll be in the living room, stuffing bags, if you need me.”
Without turning my back on her, I quickly made my way out of the bedroom and shut the door, only to hear her start to beat my pillow again. I prayed she wasn’t envisioning my face while she was punching.
Needing to calm my nerves, I grabbed a beer from the fridge, and then settled down on the floor, where I started to pack the bags for the bachelorette party. I didn’t dare turn on the TV to watch the sports highlights, in fear that the monster might spring from the room, claws and fangs exposed.
In silence, I packed, and Sir Licks-a-Lot put on a delightful show of tongue to crotch for me. His gnawing noise was the cherry on top of the deranged cake.
Chapter Thirty-Six
Penis Allergies Please
ROSIE
