Honda on its last legs with more dents and scratches than tread on its tires. “I was trying to figure out a polite way to tell you that we should take my Beamer.”
“I’m wearing this suit, and you assumed I’d drive that car?” He shook his head and pulled the key fob from his pocket, only then remembering the fabric ripping.
“Well, yeah, you know. Because… Uhm. I just had no idea your line of work—” Her voice hitched and she cleared her throat. “But you’re living large, so that’s awesome. Good job. Doing…the thing. Your thing. Good work.”
A wave of embarrassment washed over him. It was a first.
Even back when he was in full swing, flinging up girls’ skirts before leaning them against his car in a public place and sliding in between their thighs, he’d never been embarrassed about collecting the money afterward. It was the topping on his sundae—screwing beautiful women and getting paid for it. Who wouldn’t want that job?
But hearing Madison say it…
It was definitely time to throw in the towel. What would happen if his mother ever found out? Or his sister? The shame would be intense.
“My primary business is as a fitness model,” he said, leaning over to check out his pocket. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t also trying to hide his red cheeks. The seam had pulled apart a fraction at the top, but it wouldn’t be noticed. “I get sponsorship through that and ad money from my workout YouTube videos.”
He didn’t go on to mention that yes, working for Big Dick had made him double what all those other endeavors pulled in, combined. Other than the car, house, and clothes, he lived modestly and put everything away. He had a big nest egg that was ready to be poured into his dream.
“Well then, happy days for being pretty and having a bunch of muscle, huh?” She waited patiently for him to open the door, said thank you, and slid into the leather seat.
He closed the door behind her and walked to the other side of the car, his head buzzing and his whole body energized. He felt like he was in the middle of a really great workout with something even better to look forward to afterward.
It was probably the coming competition for Madison. He wasn’t in it for real, of course, but he’d play like he was. He loved the thrill of competition. Of going up against an opponent and coming out victorious.
As he opened his car door, he tried to remember the last time he’d felt this good.
“So back to more important matters,” Madison said as he sat in the driver’s seat. “You haven’t seen The Princess Bride? How is that possible?”
“It’s a chick flick.”
“It is a pop-culture flick. It applies to all sexes. And it’s also on TV all the time. It’s like saying you’ve never watched The Breakfast Club.”
“I’ve never watched—”
“Don’t you dare.”
He laughed as the engine purred to life. “I have seen The Breakfast Club, actually. I just wanted to see what you’d do. Hard not to. Occasionally it’s the only thing on TV.”
“I know. I kept watching portions of it, and finally sat down and watched all of it from beginning to end. It’s fine, but The Princess Bride is awesome.”
“Why?”
“Because it’s campy and silly and funny. It’s lighthearted fun. You have to watch it.”
“Don’t wanna. You can’t make me.”
“I’m going to pay for two hours of your time, sit you in front of a TV, tape your eyelids up, restrain your head, and force you to watch it.”
“Wow. That got weird really fast.” Grinning, Colton activated his navigation. “Do you want high-end heels or run-of-the-mill?”
“I want something I can walk in that won’t eat my feet. And don’t tell me your final decision, because I don’t like that you know more about shoes than I do.”
“You don’t strike me as the kind of girl to put much stock in gender stereotypes. At least where it concerns shoes.”
“I’m not, but you make me feel frumpy. I can shrug it off when a girl does it, because I’m not a girly girl. But when a guy does it, I start to question my life choices, like why I constantly leave the house without wearing pants.”
“Without pants?” Colton decided on high-end to match her dress and his suit. If anyone was looking, their fashion would hold up.
“Not proper pants. If I’m not going to work, I wear yoga pants or leggings, mostly. Or sweats. If