Caleb asks me if I've had time to construct a list of rules for him, to be fair. I haven't. I am so out of my league here, I'm not even sure which sport this is. I'm game for poking fun at the weirdness of our lives though. Freak flags and all that, fly 'em sky high. If anyone thought we were serious, I might correct them. Then again I might say nothing at all.
Do you have yours?
Some, yes, Princess.
Well, let's trade.
Ladies first.
I wait and then burst into laughter. It works for PJ but the joke is lost on the Devil. He doesn't think he's a lady, I guess. Deep breath. Fine. You have to listen to the safe words.
He reddens and looks at his shoes briefly. You have to say them. Out loud.
My turn to blush. No biting.
No hearing aids.
No Russians.
No Converse All-stars.
No Peyton.
No husbands. And for the record, Peyton has nothing to do with this.
She personifies high-risk behavior.
As does everything I do. But I've never slept with Peyton so you have no worries. If you'd rather I didn't date then I won't.
You did sleep with her. You told me you had needs.
Right. Every now and then I'd like to have a conversation with someone who is over twelve, doesn't punch me before they hear what I have to say and doesn't fall asleep the moment they sit down with a drink. But no, I didn't sleep with her and if you're calling me a liar then I would like an apology.
Sorry, yeesh.
Don't be. It's adorable that you're jealous. And that you fall asleep practically standing up.
Yes, so adorable you need to rent Peyton to offset the horror of it all.
Do you have any more rules for me, Bridget?
I'll have to check and have my assistant get back to you.
I have one more.
What is it?
That we agree to no rules because all of these are terrible.
Fine but if you bite me they'll kill you.
Hey, if you don't say the words when you need them I might kill you first.
