so what if it's broken

I'm torn between spending New Year's Eve locked inside the Hard Rock after attending a Red Hot Chili Peppers concert or going to see Crystal Method and Sandra Collins and Dirty Vegas at the House of Blues and hanging out there. $150 ticket at HOB gets you in VIP with an open bar. Not that I would drink that much, but considering how much it costs to drink at HOB anyway, it would be a good deal. Or I could spend $350 and drool at Anthony for a few hours. Decisions, decisions.

Pusha and I have been talking on the phone a whole lot. We spent a few hours together on Saturday afternoon alone at the spot. It was a lazy, rainy Saturday. We watched the Miami-Minnesota game. We had our usual banter back and forth, him begging to see my breasts and me repeatedly telling him no. When it came time for me to leave, he gave it the old college try once again.

"Seriously though, when are you going to let me see them?"

"Right now, are you ready?"

He got a huge grin on his face and nodded his head quickly up and down. I stood up and grabbed my purse off his bed. Tossing it over my shoulder, I grabbed the bottom of my shirt and looked him in the eye. I quickly lifted the shirt all the way up so he could see my bra and then just as quickly pulled it back down.

"Awww," he said, souding disappointed. I laughed and ran out the front door, preparing to make a mad dash to my car to avoid having the rain ruin my hair.

He called out to me just as I passed his bedroom window.

"Monique, you know what the coolest Christmas present would be?"

"What?"

"If you came and knocked on this window and when I opened the curtain you had your titties pressed up against it."

"Boy, something is wrong with you." I shook my head at him.

"You're gonna let me see them one day."

"Maybe," I said and ran to my car.

He called something else out but the wind and the rain drowned him out. I started my car and drove off, watching him in the rearview mirror.

He was still grinning.