Page 71 of Dear John
“What could be more amazing than leading the charge in the most forward-thinking drink of this century?”
I didn’t answer. I just turned back to the bartender and requested a beer.
“Hey! And don’t forget my Funyuns drink!” Fox shouted. Snorting, he shook his head. “Can you believe that guy? It was like he didn’t really care what my order was. I’m telling you, this whole Funyuns thing is going to be a hit. Pretty soon, the whole world is going to be ordering my drink.”
“But then, would there really be any left for you?”
His eyes widened in horror. “You know, you’re right. There’s already not enough room at the supermarket for them. What if people start buying up Funyuns and there are none left for me?”
“Don’t you have a whole room of Funyuns in the silo?”
He slapped his hand over my mouth, looking around in case anyone heard. “How did you know about that?”
I started to speak, but was hindered by his Funyuns-flavored skin covering my mouth. When he moved it, he glared at me. “I’m not spilling your secrets. Everyone knows about that room.”
“Shit,” he muttered.
“And we also know about how long it’s been there.”
His eyes popped wide as he swallowed hard. “I swear, I didn’t touch them during my time away from everything. They were only there to keep me on an even keel. I swear!”
“Nobody gives a shit. In fact, I’m pretty sure the guys have been adding to your stash to ensure you never go back to that meditating crap. And the throat singing?—”
“I thought you all liked my throat singing,” he snarled.
“Fox,” I sighed, snagging my beer as the bartender set it down. “I don’t know a single person alive who would willingly listen to that shit.”
The bartender set a yellow drink in front of Fox. “That’s the best I could do.”
Fox went through a whole testing phase, looking at the contents first, then sniffing it, before finally lifting it to his lips and taking the smallest taste. “Too much vodka. But it’s a solid effort,” he told the man.
The bartender rolled his eyes as if he really didn’t care. “Gee, I was really worried about that.”
“No need,” Fox said quickly. “I’ll have this perfected in no time. I’ll send you the recipe.”
The man stared at him for a second before responding. “I can’t wait.”
As the man walked away, Fox turned to me with a gleam in his eyes. “You know, I think that guy was lying.”
And so went my night, listening to Fox talk about his newfound drink instead of spending my night with Isla like I should be.
25
ISLA
The knockon the door for the third time finally got me off the bed. My anger had grown tenfold since I got in my room, and now I was ready to explode. “I don’t want to hear your excuses. I don’t care that you were only trying to protect me, and if you think for one second I’m going to have sex with you,” I shouted as I yanked the door open, but it wasn’t Kavanaugh on the other side. “Then you’re completely wrong, Anna,” I finished with a haughty tone, pretending I had meant to say all that to her.
“Damn, and I thought the sex would be phenomenal.”
I chuckled, opening the door wider for her. “Would you like to come in?”
“That depends. Are you going to demand I grovel?”
I shut the door as she walked inside and headed to the bar for a drink. Holding up the glass, I asked, “Want one?”
“At dinner. Come on. We’re getting out of here.”
“I should really do more research,” I said, chewing my bottom lip. Though, going out to dinner sounded really tempting right now.