“Huh,” Brent said. “Never pegged Megan for the jealous type.”
He sat down on his couch and put his feet up. “You can wait here for her if you want,” he said, chomping on more chips.
“I think I will,” I decided, sitting down next to Brent.
I figured if she had decided to walk home, she’d still need a little more time getting here. I groaned in frustration.
“So, who was it?” he asked.
“What?”
“Who was the ex-girlfriend you bumped into?”
“Oh… Anna,” I replied.
“Fuck, I remember her,” Brent nodded. “She was hot—definitely a nine. Maybe even a nine-point-five now that I think about it.”
I rolled my eyes. “Do you still do that?”
“Do what?”
“Rate women based on appearance?”
“Sure.” Brent nodded. “Every man does.”
“I don’t.”
“That’s because you’re a fucking boy scout who always does the right thing,” Brent said. “I’m sure Saint Phil would never objectify a woman.”
“Oh, trust me, I used to,” I said.
“What changed?”
“I suppose I just grew up.”
“Sad.”
I shook my head at him. “At some point, you might have to grow up, too, whether you like it or not.”
“Wanna watch some porn?” Brent asked.
“No,” I said decidedly.
“Want a beer?”
“Now that I won’t say no to.” I nodded, hoping it would take the edge off and make me feel a little better.
Brent got me a beer, and while he was at it, he got himself another, too. He sat down beside me and took a long swig. “So, how’d she look?”
“Who?” I asked distractedly.
“Anna, of course,” Brent said.
I looked at him in shock. “Dude.”
“What?”
“I wasn’t really paying attention to Anna.”