Page 57 of Revelation

“Try.”

He sighs. “She’sreallygood at getting herself off, right?”

I don’t reply. I’m a gentleman, after all.

“So that means she doesn’t actuallyneedyou,” he continues. “You’re nothing but a luxury item to her—a Lamborghini, if you will. And as you of all people should know, no one buys a Lamborghini for basic transportation. They get the Lamborghini because they want all the stupid bells and whistles (and because they’re an idiot with their money).”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jonas shrugs. “I’m just sayin’ a girl can get dissatisfied pretty damn quick with her ridiculously expensive Lamborghini if it doesn’t deliver everything that’s been promised in the brochure.”

My heart is racing. I don’t know how it’s possible, but my idiot brother is actually making a shit-ton of sense.

“Soas your girl’s designated Lamborghini,” Jonas says, “you need to make it your sacred mission to give her everything she expects from a two-hundred-thousand-dollar car.” He swigs his beer. “You gotta convince that woman she actuallyneedsa goddamned Lamborghini.”

Shit. He’s right. “So what do I need to do?” I ask.

“You gotta be able to do stuff for her she can’t do for herself. Make her come so hard, she’s literally addicted to you.”

“Oh, well,thatI can do. Believe me, I know how to make a woman come hard.”

“One way? Two ways?”

“All ways. Fuck off.”

“Mmm hmm.”

“Fuck you. I’m good.”

“But are yougreat? Do you aspireto excellence every single time?”

“What thefuckare you talking about? Do Iaspire...? Just to be clear, wearetalking about fucking, right? Or is this conversation about something completely different and I’ve been totally confused the whole time?”

“Ah, grasshopper. Fucking is never just fucking.”

I roll my eyes.

“You said she’s a unicorn. I’m just saying you gotta bring your ‘A’ game every time with a unicorn. There are no free passes. You gotta study up—continuously improve your skills—keep ratcheting it up for her. You can never,everjust ‘wet your dick.’”

I cringe. “Jonas.”

He shrugs.

There’s a beat.

“Study up?” I finally ask.

“A man catches himself a unicorn, then he best study up so he can feed her the right kind of unicorn-food.”

“What the fuck are you talking about?”

Jonas rolls his eyes, pulls out his phone, and taps something out on it.

I lean over, trying to get a glimpse of his screen. “What are you doing?”

“I’m ordering some books for you. They’ll be at your house when you get home. Read ’em before you see Kat again. You’re welcome.”

“Fuck you,” I say.

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