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3rd POV
In the Cooper parents' bedroom, Mary slowly rubbed her night cream onto her face. But her mind wasn't on hopes of smoother skin, it was stuck on something Sheldon had said earlier that afternoon.
He was going to Houston with a girl just to see a movie.
Sure, Tam would be tagging along too, but that didn't change the fact that her little boy was heading out of town… driven by another teenage girl.
The thought unsettled her. They were all still just high school kids, barely experienced behind the wheel.
George Sr. lay on the bed, a football chart propped against his chest. Without looking up, he caught the tension in the air, "…You want to talk about it?" he asked casually.
Mary froze, jar in hand, before glancing over awkwardly. "…Is it that obvious?"
George Sr. finally set the chart aside and gave her his full attention. "Alright. Get up here..."
Mary sighed before putting down her night cream and climbed into bed, settling beside him with a sigh.
"What's on your mind this time?" he asked.
"...It's Shelly," she admitted, her brow furrowed. "I still don't feel right about him going to Houston just to see a movie..."
"Didn't he say Libby's the one who giving them a ride?" George Sr. asked.
"Yes and that's exactly what worries me." She shifted to face him. "Would you… maybe drive them yourself?"
George Sr. blinked at her like she'd lost her mind. "Why? We've already got barbecue night coming up."
Mary's eyes lit up, and she smacked his arm lightly. "That's it! We are having barbecue night!"
George Sr. groaned, already realizing where this was going. Mary was about to turn their family cookout into the perfect excuse to keep Sheldon from Houston. And if he knew his wife, she'd probably drag Georgie's name into it too, just to make her case stronger.
"Come on, Mary, all high school kids drive," George Sr. muttered, not exactly thrilled about Sheldon heading to Houston, but not ready to forbid it either. He'd been married long enough to know how this was going to go, "Well, I don't like it," she said flatly just like he thought.
Mary crossed her arms, stubborn as ever. "You said it yourself—we've got barbecue night coming up."
George Sr. sighed, then narrowed his eyes at her. "Tell me something… are you more worried about this high school girl driving, or about Sheldon actually liking this girl?"
Mary froze, her glare snapping to him like a whip.
"…I'll take the first one," George Sr. muttered quickly, reaching over to switch off the lamp.
"I'm just gonna say this," he added after a beat, his back to her now, "...you know he'll be starting college in a couple years. He'll be living in a dorm, and not gonna sharing a room with you..."
Silence.
He risked a glance over his shoulder, and immediately regretted it. From the corner of his eye, he caught Mary sitting there, arms folded tight, her eyes burning holes into his back.
"…Right." Slowly, George Sr. turned his face back toward the dark. "Forget I said anything."
Hey....they were a married couple. What happened in the bedroom stayed in the bedroom.
*"Ahh! Don't bite me!"*
What happened in the bedroom… definitely stayed in the bedroom.
—--------
Georgie POV
What's a rom-com?
It's a romantic movie wrapped in comedy, something to make the story lighter, funnier, easier to watch. Is it appealing to most people? Yeah, absolutely. Folks want the journey of love, but they also want to laugh along the way or at least smile at the funny bits.
"I think Sally already started falling for Harry on that trip to New York," I told Veronica.
The funny thing about that movie is… what are the odds? I mean, how many times do you just randomly bump into someone again after years apart? For me, that's the charm.
"Really?" Veronica said, tossing another piece of popcorn in her mouth. "All I saw was Sally being just 'interested' in Harry because, he is dating her friend at that time."
When Harry Met Sally was rated R. We definitely weren't supposed to be in that theater.
But hey… we weren't supposed to.
"No, no. If she was only interested because of that, then Sally wouldn't have remembered him at the airport after five years apart." I leaned in, dead serious now. "Think about it. She remembered Harry after just one road trip, eighteen hours together, but she didn't even remember Amanda Reese, her friend? That means something. Who remembers a random guy years later unless that trip actually mattered?"
Exactly. People don't remember a single trip unless it leaves a mark.
Veronica smirked and jabbed her popcorn at me. "Nope. She remembered because Harry was a jerk. That's it. He got under her skin. And don't forget….Harry hitting on her when he was her friend's boyfriend? Total no-no."
I chased after Veronica as she walked out of the theater, still smiling like she'd won the argument.
"He was not hitting on her!" I shouted, trailing right behind her.
—---
A smear of ice cream clung to the corner of her mouth. Without thinking, I swiped it with my thumb and licked it clean.
Veronica staring at me with the most deadpan look imaginable.
"Do you even believe marriage can last?" she finally asked what sticking to her mind, "Like in the movie, you know, when couples talk about how they met and how long they've been together?"
"Yes, you can," I shot back, quick and certain. "Actually, those little interviews in the movie? I believe them."
That threw her for a second. A small smile tugged at her lips, "Why is that? I thought men only think about sex. Just like Harry said."
"Actually, we do think about sex all the time," I admitted, only to get smacked on the arm.
"I'm just saying! A good sex life keeps a woman around," I added louder than I meant to. A couple of passersby glanced our way, eyebrows raised.
For the record, we were sitting on a park bench, ice creams in hand.
"Georgie!" Veronica hissed, pinching my arm, her face flushing as she glanced around.
"Alright, alright." I held up a hand in surrender, then leaned closer. "All I mean is… you never really know how the universe works. Remember that scene where the man said he lived near his wife for years, but they never met?"
Veronica nodded, still nibbling at her cone. "They were adorable, answering each other's like fate had been saving them for that moment."
"Yes," I grinned, stealing a lick of her ice cream before handing her mine in exchange. She laughed and did the same, "They didn't meet on their block but they met in the elevator at the Ambassador Hotel. That's scary, if you think about it. You could be living right next to the love of your life and never even know."
Veronica shook her head, smiling softly. "Well… I think that's surprisingly romantic, Georgie."
I arched a brow. "For women, maybe. For us guys, it's more like, 'What an insane coincidence!' Or, if you believe in fate… 'Guess God decided to play matchmaker today.'"
After saying that, I fell quiet for a moment, just soaking in the breeze of the park and the ice cream in our hands. Veronica did the same.
"…That's the scary part," I said finally. "Those exhausting little moments are what make someone's partner the most important thing in their life."
I tossed the rest of my cone into the trash can beside our bench.
—---
"Hey, hey! Watch out for the barrel!" Veronica yelled beside me, pointing at the screen in front of us.
"Don't yell at me! I can see that!" I shot back, hammering the buttons on the arcade machine. "Watch out, you stinky big monkey! I'm gonna beat you up!"
Ding Dong Arcade—still packed, still popular, kids running around everywhere.
Even with these chunky pixel graphics, playing with someone else just made it fun.
Well, shit.
My eyes hurt staring at that stupid pixel gorilla laughing at me with its blocky grin.
"What are you doing?! Jump, Georgie!" Veronica tugged on my shirt, throwing me off.
"Ahh, this is your fault, sugar! Don't pull my shirt!" I pouted at her dramatically.
Her lips twitched like she was trying not to laugh…but come on, it was her fault.
"…Just admit it. You're bad at this game." Veronica smirked, pointing at the screen.
"Yeah, dude, just admit it."
The small voice came from behind us. I turned, spotting some smug little kid grinning up at me like he owned the place.
Alright, kid. You picked the wrong guy.
"Shut up, you little creep! I bet you can't even beat my score!" I snapped, childish as hell. Yeah, I know, but it was just some random brat. His parents were nowhere in sight anyway.
"My score's gonna crush yours! Your score is garbage!" he shot back, smirking harder.
Veronica chuckled beside me, clearly enjoying the showdown. Then she tugged me away before things escalated. She knew me well enough—if she hadn't, I might've actually tried to destroy that little creep's ego right there and then.
Yeah. That was the reason.
Yeah that's right, Veronica decided to let the arcade keep its pride, sparing their "high score" from my inevitable victory.
We left the place together, walking back to her car. She glanced at me with that sly little smile still tugging at her lips.
"What?" I pouted at her. "You don't believe I could've beaten their top score?"
That little minx only shrugged, her smile turning into a smirk. "Of course, honey. I believe you," she said, chuckling as she slid into the driver's seat.
"..."
I sighed and climbed in beside her. "Just so you know," I added quickly, "I never even play those games. Pretty good score for a first timer, right?"
"Of course," she answered again, starting the car.
I nodded, satisfied for half a second until the silence between us stretched, broken only when Veronica asked, "So… where to next?"
I leaned back, "I changed my mind. Let's find a motel. I'm gonna slap your ass for laughing at me." My glare was half-serious, half-playful, but she only gave me that same mischievous smile, one that looked way too much like Missy's when she was up to no good.
"Well, you're the man," Veronica teased, laughing louder this time, the sound filling the car as the engine roared to life.
—-------
"Ahh… hmmm… i-.. Ahh.. Sorry!!.. Yesss!!!"
Veronica's muffled cries filled the dim motel room, her face buried against the cheap pillow.
Me? I didn't make it easy for her. I teased, I played, pulling back every time she was close—keeping her desperate, restless, wanting more.
"Georgie…" she gasped, her voice breaking with a mix of frustration and need.
Finally, I wrapped my arms around her, holding her tight, and this time… I let her fall with me.
Our breaths were heavy, filling the small motel room. I pulled her close again, pressing my lips to hers. This time, it was my turn to smirk, wearing the face of victory.
"So… tell me again," I teased against her mouth, "who's The Man now?"
Veronica swatted my chest lightly, giggling into my ear.
"…Are you sure I wasn't faking it….like Sally did?"
Her smirk said she was just playing with me, but I wasn't some clueless boy she could fool that easily.
"...Yeah like you moan for more and at the same time, clamping your pussy around my dick so tight?..." I whispered, nipping playfully at her ear.
Her soft gasp gave her away, the kind of sound no one could fake. I chuckled, brushing my lips along her jaw. "Go on then… tell me that was all a lie...."
Veronica bit her lip, eyes dark with heat. "...One more," she whispered, sliding back toward me, unable to fight the pull between us.
For me? I am always ready for the battles.
—-------
The restaurant wasn't fancy—at least not the kind where you needed a tux. More like the kind of place with fishing nets on the walls, lobster paintings, and old ship wheels hanging like they'd been stolen off a real boat.
A candle flickered between us, stuck inside a glass jar covered in seashell patterns. Napkins folded neatly in red, silverware stacked like we were about to attend Sunday church instead of cracking seafood open.
Veronica looked around, amused at the couples and the room. She leaned closer to her table, "Are you sure you can afford all this?" she teased, raising an eyebrow.
I shrugged, grabbing the claw cracker like I'd been born knowing how to use it. "Well, if not… we can always dine and dash."
Her mouth fell open, shocked like i really meant it when i said that, of course until I smirked at her playfully and dug into my lobster like it was no big deal.
That got her to roll her eyes and shake her head, lips twitching like she wanted to laugh.
After a sec, Veronica shook her head, finally laughing, before joining me. "...Tell me something. Do you actually believe men and women can never be best friends…like Harry told Sally?"
"Yes." I answered without even looking at her, still focused on the dead lobster in front of me.
Honestly? Foolish question.
"...Why?" Veronica asked, her voice carrying genuine curiosity this time, not just trying to trip me up.
"Because God made men and women to reproduce, not to be bestfriends," I said, before setting my fork down and looking her in the eye. "The movie made it clear. They were 'bestfriends' for what—a year? Maybe more? Before they ended up in bed together. You could already see the spark the first time they met at the bookstore, when Sally actually trusted Harry wasn't some creep. Any sane woman, like Marie, would've bolted if a man looked at her like that."
Veronica pouted, crushing the lobster claw with unnecessary force. "Like you and Kayla? You'd better stick to your words, or I'll use this thing on your dick."
Her eyes glimmered with a devilish smile as the shell cracked loudly in her hands.
"…That's why I've got you, sugar," I said smoothly, glancing sideways at the nearby table where another couple had definitely overheard her. "I know you'll protect me from all the other women."
"Good." Veronica dipped her lobster into the sauce, licking it off slowly and locking her eyes on me with a teasing grin. "Because I still want to play with your dick for the rest of my life, Georgie."
I swallowed hard at the sight—she looked incredible!. But before I could recover, I pointed discreetly to the side.
Veronica followed my finger… and saw the elderly couple at the next table watching us. Her face turned crimson.
"Oh, don't mind us, young lady," the old woman chuckled warmly. "I used to be just like you when I was young."
That only made Veronica flush deeper. She apologized quickly while the couple smiled, before we carried on with our dinner.
Of course, no wine sat on our table. Just lobster, laughter, and the kind of night we'd never forget.