“Aw, dammit!” Michelle cursed.
He looked up at the screen to see the Buccaneers’ tight end spiking the ball in the end zone. “All right! You’re my slave for a day!”
“Hey, come on, there’s still three seconds left.”
“No way are your beloved Falcons gonna win this one. You’ll be rubbing my feet for twenty-four hours straight.”
“Eew, I thought we agreed to nothing gross! Clean mind!”
“Hey, that is keeping a clean mind, unless…uh, I’ll just keep my mouth shut.” He burst into laughter.
She rolled her eyes. “I don’t think I even wanna know.”
“You’re right, you really don’t.”
This was it. Tampa Bay kicked the ball, and one of the Falcons caught it and started running. The clock was now at zero seconds, but the play had to end. The runner dodged two of the Buccaneers as a sudden burst of energy came over him, and he kept going. “Twenty yards, ten yards, uh-oh, the Falcons scored a touchdown! Nicky’s team lost!” Michelle cheered.
The clock ran down, and the game ended with a score of fourteen to ten. “Dammit! I don’t suppose I could offer something else in place of being your slave, huh?”
“Like?”
“Hmm…a date with one of my friends?”
“No thanks. I can get dates on my own. Besides, I kinda have a boyfriend.”
“How about a nice meal?”
“Isn’t that involved in you being my slave for the day?”
He groaned exasperatedly. “I’ll make out with you for an hour,” he offered jokingly.
She giggled. “No way, Carter.”
“Good because I wasn’t serious.”
“I know you weren’t.”
“So when is my day of slavery?”
“I don’t know. I’ll choose a day when I’m lazy or something.”
“Why don’t you save it for a day when you’re sick?”
“Because you’re my wonderful, loving roommate and it’s your duty to be my slave when I’m sick or have PMS or whatnot.”
“Hey, PMS isn’t sickness. It’s all in your head.”
“Fine, if that’s what you think, tell that to my cramped up stomach. PMS is painful. Be happy you’re not a girl. You don’t have to bleed nonstop for a week at a time or have a living thing come out a tiny little hole down there.”
He grimaced. “You’re graphic, aren’t you?”
“Yes, I am. I’m not a girly girl who doesn’t talk about things like that. I share everything.”
“Great. Living with you is gonna be fun.”
“Hey, now, you’re the one who constantly walks around the house in his boxers! I don’t need to see that much!”
“Get used to it, babe, because that’s how it goes around here. I’m not changing my manly ways just because I’m living with a chick.”
“Manly ways, huh? Do all guys do that? Walk around without clothes on?”
“No, guys don’t do that. MEN do.”
She laughed. “Sure. I’m gonna go upstairs and find something to wear. I think I’m gonna surprise Brad and show up early. I think he’s kind of intimidated by the fact that I’m living with a guy. I feel bad, and I want to make that up to him.”
“Have fun. I’ve got a date with the television tonight.”