The Checklist (Explicit Version)

Chapter 6

CHAPTER VI
Toy Story

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   Whoever said to take two, three hour lectures in one day needs a place in hell. I wasn't sure if I was in the right mind when I made my schedule, but if I could talk to my old self—the one from two months ago—I would scream 'do not take two classes back-to-back on Tuesday's!'

   Although, I did have to hand it to my media ethics professor. He let us out of class an hour early.

   So here I am, skipping gladly on the sidewalk with a smile at five in the evening. The distance between school and the house took fifteen minutes, so as I strutted through the busy strip, I plugged in my earbuds and searched for my big-dick energy playlist when I got an idea.

   Lifting my head away from my phone, I glanced around the street before my eyes fell to the tattoo shop across from me. Even though my body was exhausted and deprived of sleep, next thing I knew, I was opening another app and texting Myles.

   How much money would it take for you to watch a movie with me?

   I slowed my pace while waiting for his reply. It same less than a minute later.

   What movie?

   Grinning wickedly I frenziedly typed, Disney. Maybe Pixar.

   The message sent, and three dots appeared. Then disappeared. His stunned silence brought me to the brink of laughter, but my smile shattered when my phone lit up with his name printed across the screen.

   I choked on saliva the same moment I nearly fell on my own feet. Luckily, I managed to stabilize myself before answering the call. "Walt Disney Studios speaking."

   "Funny." His voice was clipped, making me frown. "We aren't watching that shit, princess."

   Even though he offended the creator of my favourite movies, my eyes widened in shock and eagerness. "Does that mean you do want to watch a movie? I should warn you though, I'm tired as hell. I'll probably pass out, but then again, you're probably tired too, right? I know you mentioned that you finish work at six-thirty so that means you must have been working for eight hours? Wait, what time do you start working? Did you ever tell me? I don't think you're an early bird. You seem like you..."

   His silence reminded me that I've been rambling for over a minute now. I felt my face burning red in embarrassment. "Please shut me up."

   "Why would I do that?" I could hear the small smirk in his voice. "I just got five dollars for the question jar."

   "We're not actually doing that!"

   "Scared you gonna be broke, princess?"

   "Look who's asking questions now," I grumbled in frustration.

   There was a moment of silence. "I start at one. Sometimes I take in earlier clients."

   His admission made my lip twitch. "Does that mean you want to come over? I don't think I have to let you know where I live." More questions filtered through my brain, and I debated on asking where he lived.

   "I'm still at work," he deadpanned coolly. My forehead puckered at his impassive tone, but it smoothed out when he added, "I can be there for seven."

   "Perfect! Gives me enough time to shower and eat. Wait, do you want to eat too? I can order us something—"

   "Fuck's sake, princess. You don't need to do all that."