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That got him moving. “Eww.”
Ramona let the door close before continuing her interrogation. “I knew you were holding something back at dinner.”
I couldn’t keep this from her. “He kissed me.”
“Who exactly ishe?”
“Dennis.”
“But you hate that guy.”
I nodded. “It happened so fast.” It had been fast and surprising—wonderful and terrifying all at the same time.
“And you let him?”
I gave her the whole story about his haughty ex and how it had started as a fake kiss to piss her off but ended up so much more.
“So I gave her another reason to hate the guy and put him through the ringer,” I concluded.
Ramona had been slack-jawed the entire time. “He’s using you to piss off his ex.”
“That’s the point. She wants to ruin him, and so do I. Getting her more pissed off will damage him in the long run.”
“That’s sick.”
“I know, but that’s not all. He asked me to go with him to the museum fundraiser.”
“But that’s still using you to rub her nose in it.”
“I said yes.”
“I didn’t ask what you said. Don’t you get how this looks?”
“You weren’t there.”
“This is seriously screwed up. A few weeks ago you would have been shopping for cyanide-laced lipstick, and now you want his and hers bottles of lube?”
I knew she was kidding, but I had no idea how to answer. “It was just a kiss.”
“Three seconds?”
I shook my head.
“How long then?”
“I don’t remember.”
“Was it good?”
I couldn’t hide the grin. “Yes.”
“See? You want him.”
“Aren’t you the one always telling me he might not be as bad as I think?”
“I always thought your obsession with getting back at him wasn’t healthy, but that’s not the same as instantly switching to wanting him in your bed.”
“You’re getting a little ahead of yourself.”
