Page 37 of The Virgin Romance Novelist Chronicles
“You can’t stay in here all day. Come have breakfast with us, love.”
“I can’t. I’m too mortified to do anything.”
“It wasn’t that bad, Rosie.”
“Not that bad?” I replied as I sat up and looked Henry in the eyes. “Henry, I kicked my date in the balls, to the point where he had to step outside to throw up from how hard I kicked him. By God, Henry, I reverted his balls back to undescended testicles.”
Chuckling and not caring to hide it, Henry said, “Don’t give yourself that much credit. You weren’t kicking that hard.” Trying to sweetly console me, he rubbed my back as I beat myself up about last night.
“He turned green!”
“That’s practically impossible to make such an assessment. There was no way in that lighting you could see his face turn green. We have to scratch such statement from the record,” he joked, trying to bring light to the situation.
“I hate that you’re enjoying this.”
“I’m not enjoying it.” Henry’s tone was gentle while he grabbed my hand. “I’m just trying to show you it’s not the end of the world.”
“It is. I actually liked him, Henry. I felt like maybe we could have had something.”
“Atticus, really?” His nose twisted to the side.
“Yes!” I pushed his shoulder, erupting a laugh from his chest.
All joking aside, he continued, “You still could go out with him you know.”
“Henry, pretty sure I burned that bridge the minute my foot connected with his nut sac.”
“You never know, he might have liked it—”
“There is something wrong with you,” I said as I threw my blankets to the side and put on my slippers. I headed out toward the kitchen where Delaney was spinning around the kitchen. Derk sat at the bar and watched Delaney with dreamy eyes. It was obvious by the way he admired her that they would be getting married at some point in time. If only I had someone like Derk, minus the hideous name.
“There’s our little nutcracker,” Delaney called out while pointing at me with her spatula.
“Ha, ha, very funny.” I slumped on a stool next to Derk, who put his arm around me in consolation.
“Don’t sweat it, Bloom, I’m sure the guy has already forgotten about it.”
“Would you have forgotten about a girl with powder coming out of her privates who kicked innocent balls?”
He thought about it for a second and then shook his head, no. “I would be posting that on my Twitter any chance I got.”
“Derk.” Delaney scolded him but laughed at the same time. What a friend.
“It’s going to blow over,” Henry cut in as he poured me a glass of orange juice. “You need to let it go, because you have a date tonight, don’t you? With that cat photographer?”
“Ooo, a cat photographer, that seems exciting,” Derk said.
“He’s not just a cat photographer,” I said, rolling my eyes. “He occasionally shoots pieces for us. He likes to spend his time traveling and doing photo shoots for travel magazines and has even had some of his photos inNational Geographic. He helps us out on occasion for some easy money.”
“World traveler, seems interesting. Is he hot?” Derk asked while forking a couple of waffles onto an empty plate. He was a giant of a man, like a six-five giant, and he ate like one. He could inhale one waffle in two bites, and by the look of his plate, those weren’t his first.
“He’s hot,” I said, thinking about Lance. “He’s got this whole Justin Timberlake vibe to him, you know, post Raman Noodle hair.”
“Don’t knock the noodles; you know it was hot back then,” Delaney warned.
I held up my hands in defense. “Just wanted to be clear, that’s all.”
“They’re going bowling,” Henry said over the lip of his coffee mug. “Don’t you think bowling sounds fun tonight?” he asked Delaney and Derk whose ears perked up.
