Page 45 of Sweet Pea

Callie

Sweet Pea handed me another glass of bourbon and I smiled up at him as I took a sip. He ran his finger over my mouth, then leaned down to kiss me, his tongue sweeping against the seam of my lips. “Tasty.”

I nodded. “It’s good right?”

“Kinda want to lick it off your body next time I fuck you.”

“You’re insatiable,” I said, smacking his chest playfully.

“You started this, just remember that.”

“How do you figure? You walked up to me at the courthouse.”

“Bullshit,” Sweet Pea said. “I walked by you. We made eye contact and you were on me like white on rice.”

“That couldn’t possibly be true, and I can prove it,” I said.

“How?”

“I hate rice.”

“Hate rice?” He laughed. “How can anyone hate rice?”

“The Lost Boys,” I said.

“The 80’s movie?”

“Yes. Remember the scene where the gang is eating Chinese food at the hideout, and Kiefer Southerland passes Jason Patric the rice?”

“Their characters’ names were David and Michael,” Sweet Pea replied, matter-of-factly.

“You and I clearly watched the movie for different reasons,” I said.

“At least we finally have something in common,” Sweet Pea smiled. “A love of 80’s horror movies.”

“Well...” I screwed up my face and shrugged.

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