It was why I’d done it for the last few days.
Could you have feelings for someone you barely knew? Realistically, I knew fuck all about her. Not the kind of shit you’d learn on a first date, anyway, the menial stuff that was kind of important in the long run—favorite food and movies and colors and all that shit.
Yet here I was.
Wondering how hard she’d punch me in the nose if I asked her out for real.
My phone pinged, jolting me out of that train of thought. I already knew the answer: it would be fucking hard.
REAGAN: Did your dog eat your underwear again?
ME: No. The only pair she can access are the ones I’m wearing.
REAGAN: You definitely don’t want her doing that.
ME: Definitely not. What are you doing?
REAGAN: That’s a better line than ‘what are you wearing’ I suppose.
REAGAN: I’m watching Friends.
Oh, no. She spent the day shitting all over How I Met Your Mother and she was watching Friends? With Ross Geller? Who was categorically the worst fucking character ever to be created on TV?
Probably in books, too.
Nobody with an ounce of sense would create such a shit-ass character. No offense to the creators of the show—great show, guys, really—but Ross?
Fuck Ross.
NOAH: I fucking hate Ross. He’s the worst.
I waited for her to defend him. It was coming. She’d defend him the way I had Ted Mosby before I systematically broke down her argument the way she had mine and she agreed she was wrong.
REAGAN: He’s the fucking worst. I can’t stand him. Rachel should have gotten on the damn plane.
Well, there went my plans for the evening.
ME: You were supposed to argue with me.
I stared at my phone, waiting for her response, but it didn’t come. Instead, her name flashed on the screen as a call.
This was new.
She spoke the second the line clicked on. “How am I supposed to argue about Ross? He is the worst character ever. He’s selfish and whiny and insecure and just an absolute pig to Rachel all the time! He didn’t want her but got mad when she dated everyone else. And Joey? Poor, sweet Joey who knew he was going to break Ross’ heart had the gall to love Rachel properly and Ross was mad about it! You know what I think? If Ross really loved Rachel, he’d have let her be with Joey. That’s what I think.”
I waited a moment before I said, “Hi. Calling is new.”
She laughed breathily, as if her rant had exhausted her. “Sorry. I have feelings about Ross. It’s easier if someone can shut me up halfway through.”
“If you hate Ross so much, why do you watch the show?”
“Joey. Duh.”
“Right. Of course. Why else?”
“You asked.” Amusement tinged her tone. “No, it’s a good show. It’s a comfortable show. I can enjoy it and hate Ross at the same time.”
“I feel that.” I got up and walked through to the kitchen for a drink. “I started hating Ted ten minutes into How I Met Your Mother earlier yet I still enjoyed the show. Also, I don’t think I can ever forgive you for making me realize just how fucking shit he is as a character.”
“You’re welcome.” She laughed, and there was a swish as if she were in bed.
Shit, I did not need to imagine Reagan in bed.
I adjusted my boxers. It wasn’t my fault she was fucking gorgeous and I was insanely attracted to her.
Could I blame her for that?
“What other TV shows do you have strong opinions on that I should be aware of?” I pulled a bottle of water out of the fridge and knocked the door shut with my elbow. “I want to make sure I’m prepared for more of the things I love to be shattered.”
Reagan laughed again. “I don’t know. The Big Bang Theory?”
“None of the characters are one hundred percent awful, except maybe Sheldon, but he doesn’t hide it. Doesn’t count.”
“You’re right. I can’t rip them apart like the others. They’re all too good together.” She hummed. “Okay, One Tree Hill?”
“Never seen it.”
“90210?”
“Nope.”
“Gilmore Girls?”
“Negative.”
“Charmed?”
“Reagan.” I sat back on the sofa and popped the cap on my water. “What makes you think I’ve watched any of those teeny-bopper shows?”
“I’d hardly call them teeny-bopper shows. They’re not the original version of Sabrina the Teenage Witch.”
“I had to watch that because of my cousin. Salem is the best character in that show.”
“Ha!” She laughed again. “Pretty sure I wanted to be Salem when I grew up. I asked for him once at Christmas, but I don’t think I thought through having a sassy, talking cat.”
“Mm,” I said. “There’s also that little snag where cats can’t actually talk.”
She paused. “All right, so that’s an issue. No need to shatter my dreams.”
“From the girl who shattered my favorite TV show.”
“If How I Met Your Mother is your favorite show, you need to get out more.”
“I’m sorry, didn’t you just reel off a TV guide’s worth of shows you’ve watched that I haven’t?”
“I think this conversation is done.”
Laughing, I put my bottle on the table and gave Poosh a scratch before sitting back. “That’s it? I win, so you’re done with this conversation?”
“You’re not familiar with women, are you?”
“Relatively familiar. I spent some of my day with one. Unless you’re hiding something.”
“What would I be hiding, huh? You rescued me when I was wearing nothing but a thin tank top and old panties.”
She was indeed right, not that I’d paid much attention. “I didn’t really look at you. It might be a shock to you, but I was too busy—”
“Saving my life, yeah, yeah. I hear ya, Superman. You’re a real-life superhero.”
Anyone else, that snark would have ended the call. But with Reagan? I could hear the laughter she was fighting to keep inside.
“I would have worn my cape, but it was in the wash,” I replied. “Sorry to disappoint.”
“It’s okay. I suppose being alive is enough. Although you should make sure to keep the cape on you.”
“It’s a fire hazard, don’t you think?” I changed the TV channel. “One too many fancy whips Superman-style and I’m the one on fire.”
“Huh.” She paused for a moment and her breathing crackled down the line. “That would defeat the object of wearing one.”
“It would, wouldn’t it?”
She sighed. “Never mind. It was a nice fantasy while I had it.”
“You’re fantasizing about me in a cape?”
“Not specifically. And it’s not a fantasy.”
“You just said it was.”
“Oh, my God. Just because I said it doesn’t mean I meant it.”
“Are you in the habit of saying things you don’t mean?”
“I’m a hot-tempered woman with a family of insane relatives, a best friend who feeds raccoons, a big brother who pisses me off daily, and another best friend who is a chronic on-off dater. What do you think?”