An answer to Filling In
I heard Joey co-opted this space a couple weeks ago. Not that I’m surprised. The guy loves to talk and talk and talk… But hey, equal time, right? Especially since it’s such a big election year or something. Like I give a shit. No matter which of 'em is president it wouldn’t have stopped the state of Florida from dumping Sheree and the twins in the foster care system if they’d figured out I was queer.
So Joey says I’m always yanking away point of view. Hey, if Do-gooder’s got something to say he can open up that sexy mouth of his and say it. Though if that mouth’s going to be open, I’ve got some other ideas that’d suit me better.
See, Joey is hot. Seriously fucking hot. Best thing I’ve had in my bed since—well, ever. And despite his stupid I-can-save-the-world mentality I like the guy, even when we’re not fucking. He’s funny, smart, sneaky and fucking fearless, though he is a bit of a klutz. I suppose sooner or later it’ll all get old.
Possibly sooner. See, I’ve done enough taking care of people for a life time. I’m not looking for thanks for it or anything. It needed to be done and I did it. The end. But now it’s my turn to have some fun. Just me. Soon as Joey’s out of that sling he’s outta my hair. Though not necessarily completely out of my bed. Every once in a while wouldn’t be a problem.
So does all that make me sound like—what did he call me—an arrogant prick?
And by the way? K.A.’s locked up until she finishes our damned book.