69
“I never had a girlfriend. Until you, of course. Though I prefer the terms my girl, my woman, mine that you still haven’t voiced, by the way.”
Her cheeks splash in red. “What about Cherry?”
“Cherry was a warm hole. Holes, to be more specific.”
“You’re disgusting.” She slips her hand from mine.
“She’s a cheater and an impulsive anarchist who’s addicted to more drugs than rock stars. Also, aren’t you jealous of her?”
“Whatever my feelings about her are, you shouldn’t speak that way about women. We’re more than just holes for your entertainment.”
“Aren’t you a little feminist?”
“Don’t put labels on me when you hate them yourself. Now, goodnight. Actually, no good night to you.”
She turns to leave, but I catch her wrist and tug her until she slams back against the door. “You don’t have to be difficult about everything, Glyndon. It’s starting to be tiresome, repetitive, and irritating.”
“Then let me go,” she deadpans, her eyes igniting with a challenge.
“You still on that? Guess I haven’t p

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