Okay FINE! Every other night. I think the problem is my job. I love my job, I really do. It’s not something I grew up dreaming about doing, but I’m good at it, and I make a pretty decent living doing it considering I’ve only been out of college for a few years.
As some of you know, my mom is a pretty famous person. She owns a huge chain of bakeries around the world. She taught me everything I know about cooking and covering things in chocolate. I always knew I would go into the family business when I got older, and I did. No, not that family business. The other one. Are you sitting down for this? Maybe you should be sitting down. I, Gavin Ellis, am the Creative Director for one of the largest sex toy stores in the world. I may have forgot to mention that the chain of bakeries my mom owns is connected to a chain of adult toy stores called Seduction and Snacks. Charlotte’s mom, Liz, owns that side of the business.
So, while I don’t actually work in a store selling dildos, I’m in charge of the entire product development process for every single item Seduction and Snacks sells. Considering the fact that my job has made me a genius when it comes to pleasuring a woman, and I know the inner workings of every single toy ever made, you would think that women would be throwing themselves at me. Yeah, so not the case. You try being in a bar flirting with a chick and see the look on her face when you tell her you touch rubber penises all day. They all think I’m gay. Or a creeper. Like I’m going to just whip a dildo out of my back pocket and chase her around the room with it. That only happened once, and I was really drunk. I swear.
And that’s me in a nutshell, since the last time you heard about me. Tonight, I spent three hours with Charlotte and let her cry on my shoulder because she got into a fight with Rocco, her boyfriend.
“So did you guys break up or something?”
Please say yes, please say yes.
Charlotte cried harder and pressed her face into the side of my neck while I wrapped my arms around her and held her close.
Is it wrong that I’m thinking about pushing her back onto the couch and making out with her instead of consoling her? I suck.
“He just doesn’t understand me, you know?” Charlotte whimpered and burrowed closer to me.
You’re right. He doesn’t understand you. I’m the only one who understands you. ME!
“Did you just say me?” Charlotte questioned, pulling her face away from my neck and staring up at me.
“Uh, yes. Me totally understand that he doesn’t understand you. Me understand.”
I patted her back lamely and tried to think of something un-caveman-like to say next.
“What did you guys fight about?”
I couldn’t care less but I’m a good guy and good guys ask these sorts of questions.
Charlotte sighed and scooted away from me on the couch, brushing her long brown hair out of her face. “I don’t know. I don’t even remember. It was something stupid. I shouldn’t have come over here and unloaded all of this on you. He really does love me and he’s a great guy.”
She looked up at me with wide, expectant eyes, waiting for me to agree with her that he’s a super human being. Yeah, not gonna happen.
He’s a troll who gets to touch her whenever he wants. He can burn in the fiery pits of hell for all I care.
Charlotte kept looking at me with those gorgeous eyes, and I caved under the pressure.
“You’re right. He’s awesome. I’m sure you guys will be fine.”
Someone get me a bucket to barf in.
I’m jealous, irritated, and horny after holding her so close to me all night and smelling her skin. She always smells like cherry almond. And since I’m slightly obsessed with her, I know that’s because of the lotion she uses: Jergens Original Scent. No, that’s not weird at all. Shut up. It’s probably weird, though, that I stroke the snake using Jergens Original Scent. How about we just pretend I never shared that little tidbit, okay?
My best friend, Tyler Branson, called me when I was on my way home from consoling Charlotte, and he could tell by the sound of my voice that I needed help, so he made an emergency trip to my apartment.
“I think what we need to do here is make a list,” Tyler tells me after he swallows a mouthful of beer.
Tyler was my college roommate. I met him on my first day when I moved into the dorms. I walked into our room with my mom and dad carrying boxes of my crap behind me, only to find him standing naked in the middle of his bed, hanging a poster of Megan Fox on his ceiling.
Tyler likes being naked. Tyler thinks everyone likes seeing him naked because he’s under the impression he has the body of a Greek God. Tyler learned within seven seconds of meeting my mother that women will point and laugh at him when he’s naked. Tyler has been in love with my mother ever since.