Page 28 of Merry Mischief List
“I’m sorry, what?” She eyes me with an amused grin.
“Batman?” I repeat. “Aka Bruce Wayne, from the DC franchise.”
“I know who Batman is.” She glares at me. “What I’m wondering is why you’re suggesting it.”
“Batman Returnsis set around the holidays,” I explain. “There’re Christmas themes throughout the entire movie. It’s a classic.”
“Elfis a classic,” she argues.
“I wastenwhen that movie came out. It’s hardly a classic.”
“And I was just born.Totallya classic.”
“Stop making me feel old,” I groan.
“Sorry, Grandpa. Besides,Batman Returnsis just an excuse for watching superhero movies during the holidays.”
“Are you serious?” I scoff. “Batman and Catwoman have a moment under mistletoe. What’s more Christmas than that?”
She stares at me with narrowed eyes. “How aboutIt’s a Wonderful Life, Home Alone, Love Actually?”
“Come on,” I say, rubbing my thumbs against the bottom of her foot. She drops her head back against the couch with a light moan. “I’ll give you a foot rub. Make it worth your while.”
She rolls her head, eyes finding mine, and the corner of her mouth twitches. “Fine, we’ll watch the silly bat movie.”
11
ANDI
“This orange chicken is orgasmic,” I moan as the delicious taste hits my tongue. “I could eat it every day for the rest of my life.”
“Yeah, I’m not even ashamed to admit I order from Dragon Wok like twice a week,” Porter says with a satisfied smile.
“I would move to Tampa just to eat this anytime I want.”
“How do you think I ended up in the townhouse?” Porter says, waving a hand around. “I looked up ‘houses for sale near Dragon Wok,’ and this was the best option.”
“You know,” I say before swallowing a piece of chicken, “that wouldn’t even surprise me.”
“What’s your favorite type of food?”
“Definitely sushi,” I say easily. “No contest.”
“Yeah? That’s for sure in my top five.”
“When my friends and I have a lot going on, we’ll eat sushi, talk shit, and everything bothering us seems to fade into the distance. Hard to be upset when you’re stuffing your face with a shrimp tempura roll.”
“Maybe we should toss this and order sushi instead?” Porter suggests, reaching for my plate, and I turn away, shielding it.
“Don’t you dare.”
A deep laugh pours out of him. “No worries, your orange chicken is safe… for now.”
I glance at the clock. 10:23 p.m.
“It’s getting kinda late. Would you mind giving me a ride home? Or I can call an Uber if you—”
“There’s no way I’m letting you take an Uber all alone at this time of night.” The concern in his tone has the corner of my mouth quirking upwards.
