Page 89 of Lovebug
“Because she’s a bothersome human being.”
“You didn’t seem to think so when she was fondling your man boobs a few minutes ago.”
“Myman boobs?” He looks offended.
“Yeah. She was fondling your man boobs. What, is the term ‘man boobs’ offensive?”
“Uh, yeah! Right up there with ‘dad bod’! For the record, these…” He points at his chest. “Are called pecs.”
“Yeah. Sex pecs,” I murmur.
“Excuse me?”
“Nothing! I didn’t say anything.”
“You did, though.” He snickers. “You mumbled ‘sex pecs’ under your breath.”
“You wish,” I retort sophomorically.
“Okaaaay. I’m not sure how to respond to that.”
“You were certainly responding just fine to Mrs. Thornton’s nipple stimulation, now weren’t you?”
“She did not stimulate my—”
“Save it, Wallace. I could see your pectoral erection from here.”
“My pectoral…” He smiles, then seems to give up on questioning my choice of words and changes gears altogether. He gets close to me and asks very softly, “Mabel. Are you… jealous?”
“JEALOUS OF WHAT?!”
A nearby baby startles and bursts into tears upon my explosive reaction. The young mother pushing her stroller past my booth gives me a dirty look.
“Oops!” I call out meekly. “Can I offer you a free The Bee’s Elbow honeycomb in apology?” I scoot out from behind my booth, fully prepared to chase after her.
The young mom just shakes her head and keeps strolling. I’m left standing there looking silly, a honeycomb in my hand, a maddening man by my side. A maddening man who is smiling so widely at the moment he’s undoubtedly in danger of straining a facial muscle.
“What?” I snap.
“Nothing,” he says, both hands up, that smile still on his face.
“Fine,” I huff and turn to head back behind my booth. He stops me with his words.
“To put your mind at ease… I assure you, Mabel, that whether you choose to call them man boobs or sex pecs, Naomi Thornton would be the last person granted the honor of fondling them.”
“I don’t care.”
“I think you do.”
“Well, then you’d think wrong.”
“Okay.” He seems to end the conversation with that, but neither of us moves. “The Bee’s Elbow, huh?”
“Hmm?”
He points at the label on the wrapped honeycomb I’m still holding. I look down.
“Oh. Yeah. It’s silly. Just some stickers I had made.”
