Cringing. Lots of Cringing.
Chelsea: ...why don't you go put some clothes on?
Jeremy: I would, if I thought that's what you really wanted.
Jeremy: Admit it, honey, you're diggin' it ::winks:: I saw you checkin' out the goods.
Chelsea: Oh my god, you really need to get over yourself.
Jeremy: I'll try, babe. If you promise to lighten up. You are way, way too uptight.
Chelsea: Thank you, but I really don't need to be taking advice from you.
Jeremy: Of course not. What you need is written all over your face. And I am more than happy to oblige. ::forcibly kisses her::
Chelsea: ::pushes him away::
Jeremy: What'd I tell ya?
Chelsea: ::slaps him:: You ever do that again and I will rip your eyes out. [Ed. note: Aim lower.]
Jeremy: Oooww. A girl who likes to play rough. I can deal. ::forcibly kisses her, AGAIN::
Chelsea: What the hell is wrong with you? I have a boyfriend.
Jeremy: I know, [smarmily] "lab guy." I was just goofin'.
"Honey"? "Diggin' it"? "Checkin' out the goods"? "Goofin'"? "I can deal"? Winking? Battery? THIS IS NOT MIKE HORTON'S SON.
I'm not sure the "smarmily" bracket was even necessary, because it's implied. Just as Patrick on GH does everything hotly, Jeremy does everything smarmily. Jeremy, the son of two doctors, smarmily makes fun of a guy who works in a lab while he smarmily tries to force himself on his girlfriend's friend. Ew.
Days, I guess I appreciate the effort to provide some new male hotness, but come on, this guy is less sexy than, I don't know . . . cancer.