Page 10 of Not About That Life
Ian carried all slim-thick-wit-it me to the penthouse with some help from the doorman and security guards. After we got inside, Ian helped removed my clothing and put me straight to bed. For preventative measures, he also placed a trash can and a bottled water near me. I love my smart bae.
He crawled into bed with me and I immediately turned to him. The room was spinning. “Stop moving the bed, baby.” I chide.
“I’m not; you’re drunk.” He placed a kiss on my forehead and turned on the TV. “You rest now.”
“What are you going to watch?” I murmured.
“Maybe a documentary or something semi-interesting to pass the time as I make sure you’re okay,” he replies, “I’ll think of things to watch.”
“There’s alwaysTwilight,” I reply.
“And there’s always a root canal I can have without anesthesia,” he chided.
“Smart-ass,” I folded my legs over his.
“That’s why you love me,” he replies as he flips through Netflix to see what they have to offer. “Oh, there’sFriday. I think I’ll watch that.”
“Oh?” I’m honestly shocked. “I didn’t think that’ll be something you’d like.”
“Well, we’ll see,” he gets more comfortable on the bed, “You keep saying ‘Bye, Felicia!’ to me, I might as well know the reference firsthand.”
