“Are you fucking kidding me with that? You don’t ask a woman how many people she’s slept with on the second date.”
“If this were a date, I’d be ashamed of myself. We’re hanging out … getting to know each other. So far, I’ve learned I love it when you curse. It’s hot.”
“Good. My dad had a mouth on him. Damn it was my first sentence.”
“How many?”
“You first.”
“I don’t know,” he said honestly.
“I’m not playing this game if you’re going to cheat.”
He laughed. “I swear to God. I think maybe in the forties. Maybe.”
“You’re a walking STD,” I said.
“Nope. I’m the safest bastard you’ve ever met. I get checked every three months like clockwork.”
“More like a prostitute.”
His mouth fell open. “Easy!”
“Yes, that would definitely qualify you as easy,” I shot back. “Two,” I confessed.
His smile vanished. “Two.”
“Yep. What?”
“I don’t know.” He frowned. “I’m aware of how irrational it is, but I don’t like the thought of you being with someone else.”
“Really? You’re bothered by my single-digit number?”
“I am. Who are they? I might want to Facebook stalk them.”
“You don’t get names. I’m not a pristine virgin. Deal with it.”
His eyebrows pulled even more. “No. I’m feeling genuine anger over here. I’m going to have pretend you’re a virgin.”
I rolled my eyes. “Don’t tell me you’re one of those guys who have slept with half the city but prefer their women untouched.”
“Not at all. I’m just now discovering I might be the jealous type.”
“That was awfully truthy of you.”
“Isn’t that what we’re doing?”
“I guess so,” I said. “What’s in the hutch? It’s locked.”
Josh looked over at the peeling white paint and thought about his answer. “It’s my liquor cabinet. Only for emergencies.”
“What qualifies as an emergency?”
“My mom’s an alcoholic.” He glanced to the hutch. “I’ve only opened that lock twice since I’ve been here. Both were wrecks involving kids. One shot of whiskey was over that car versus train with the toddler in May. I drank two shots for a van-full last month.”
I frowned. “I remember that one. I drank myself to sleep. You only had two shots?”
He shrugged. “I made a deal with myself that I’d only drink in a bar. It sounds stupid, I know. But drinking at home is how it started with my mom.”
“It makes perfect sense, actually.”
Josh looked into my eyes, seeming to appreciate our conversation. He stood after someone buzzed the apartment. He walked over to the small silver square on the wall by the door and pressed the black button, letting them in.
Josh pulled out his wallet, talking to the overgrown puppy scuttling around his feet. A few seconds later, someone knocked on the door and Josh answered.
Jeremy from JayWok’s delivery team stood in the hallway, handing Josh a large white sack. He leaned over, looking past Josh to wave at me. I waved back.
“Thanks, man,” Josh said.
“Coco told me to tell you not to screw this up.”
“Bye, Jeremy.” Josh shut the door, kicked off his shoes, and then returned to the couch.
“You’re two for two,” I said, digging into my box of noodles. “Two great nights so far.”
“My two best nights in Philly since I’ve been here.”
I pressed my lips together, trying not grin like an idiot, and then nodded, looking down at my noodles.
“My turn,” Josh said. “What else do you hate, besides movie talkers and Christmas?”
“Dating douchebags,” I said without hesitation.
“I can fix that, too.”