Everything about Demi’s set up with Isaac was curious, there were days not even she fully understood it. Still, there were a lot of things she couldn’t say, both for her own safety and for the safety of people living miles away from her. There was a sliver of her that felt relieved whenever Lita didn’t pry, because sidestepping the truth with half lies and outright changing of the subject, well, it was exhausting.
Demi glanced up from the sink full of dirty dishes to look at Lita. “I’m just going off of the description you gave me, sweetheart, so if he sounds gross, that’s your own doing,” she answered while handing another dish over to the other woman. “So either he is gross, or you’re just abysmal at describing people. Since I think it’s the latter and not the former, I do believe somewhere down the road I should be owed a picture of this guy, it is only fair after all.” Demi had gone through the trouble of getting a picture of Isaac for the other woman, so one of Lita's mystery man really would make them even. “See, that last part is real telling, because if he’s worth the trouble than you’re really downplaying how serious things are between the two of you.”
While it might have been more than Lita wanted to share, Demi was unaware of that fact. So, as was in her nature she was going to give her opinion, whether the other woman wanted it or not.
Shrugging her shoulders as she handed over another dish, Demi laughed. “What can I say, I'm not used to trying to distract a woman,” she countered as she handed over the last piece of cookware. “And you wouldn’t be the first person I knew who’s better at something drunk than they are sober. Don’t worry, considering I don’t want to be subjected to one of the yahoos that work with you, I won’t say a word of this to anyone.”
With the last of the dishes dried and set on the counter, Demi had to to come to terms with the fact there was no escaping her fate.
“Only person likely to walk in is Isaac,” Demi remarked. “But, maybe he’ll be the one to start the rumor.”
As expected physical therapy was just as miserable as she had assumed it would be. Lita did her best to keep it a step above turning into one of the nine circles of hell, and the wine helped. Still, by the time they were done Demi was about ready to just accept the range of motion she had and not push for anything more.
“Are you really positive it’s suppose to hurt like that?” She questioned the other woman while rubbing at her shoulder. “Because I’m half convinced you’re feeding me a line. Plus, I didn’t even get the fun distraction of anyone walking in.”