“No?” Jack asked, standing up. He eyed her a moment. Ah. Chicken, is it? He put his hands on his hips. “Oh, well then. I guess I can just go sleep on the beanbag then, if you feel that way?”
She gaped a bit, feeling the need to end the game already and reassure him but she schooled her emotions, keeping her nose in the air. “I-I guess so..?” she admitted weakly, trying to squash down the bit of guilt that had entered her heart.
Surely he knew she was joking..?
Jack eyed her, tilting his head only just, before he shrugged his arms. “You don’t want me kissing you because I called you a kitty, I don’t blame you. I shouldn’t have done that.” he walks around to his dressing draws, and pulls out some pajamas and held them up in front of him. “So, as is the rule with every relationship, at some point the guy has to sleep on the couch. Since I have no couch, I have to sleep on the beanbag with my dog.”
Jack Maple 