John let his head fall back and laugh at reiteration of the his chances of sleeping with her. "Well," he said as he sobered a bit to talk. "I suppose I have that to hold on to. It's something. Not much of something but something."
He gave a small shrug. "Some Americans like to put on an accent to sound like us. Which is highly ironic if you sit around and think about it too much-which I have." There had been many nights after the full moon where he had been too sore to move but too awake to sleep. He had a tendency to just lay there, staring up at the ceiling and letting whatever thoughts just got through his head. "Fine, you're British. Are you famous? Are you rich? Should I know who you are and making an ass of myself?"
"I'm not jealous...I just find it fucking disgusting and I think she would deserve better then that. I'm sure that she believes she deserves better then that," he reasoned. He liked to think that he knew Teagan and there was no way in hell she would do that.