Page 54 of Over You
“Yeah.” I grabbed a glass from the drying rack and placed it under the tap.
Lottie took a carton of eggs from the fridge. “As I was saying before Mr. Morning Breath waltzed in here. . . Tom called me on my way back from Glastonbury this morning and told me he had the cops called on her.”
“Finally. I’m glad he did it before she killed him.”
“Who got arrested?” I asked like I had any idea about any of these people aside from the dickdribble that was trying to tie one on with Georgia.
Lottie cracked an egg over the pan before she glanced at me. “Tom’s girl—well, ex-girlfriend.”
“Tom?” I took a sip of water. “The guy that was trying to kiss you the other day?”
“Don’t start.” Georgia glared at me.
Lottie gasped. “Tell me you whacked him one, Spencer?”
“Lottie!” Georgia frowned.
“Look, I like Tom, but I’m all for a little brawl in the name of love.” Lottie was the first girl I thought may be able to give Nash a run for his money.
“I’m just saying.” I held up a hand. “I know when a man’s trying to come on to my girl. And he was absolutely trying to get in your pants, Georgia Anne.”
Lottie shrugged a he’s-not-wrong-shoulder before tossing the shells in the trashcan.
I pointed at her. “See!”
“And can I just say.” Lottie stepped between Georgia and I with a hand to her heart. “That it’s cute that you call her Georgia Anne.”
Georgia placed the sausages onto a plate. “He dropped me off because his psycho ex slashed my tires.”
“And she flattened your tires because. . . ”
“Because she’s crazy.”
“Nope because even psycho girl knows Tom wants to screw you.” I flashed a smart-ass grin. “But, sounds like they’re perfect for each other.”
Lottie chuckled and patted my back. “I like you.”
After we’d eaten,I helped Georgia and Lottie clean up the kitchen.
Lottie tossed the dishtowel onto the counter and placed a hand on her hip while she gave me a good stare-down. “You’re weak. And you offend my British sensibilities.”
“Because I spit the curdled blood out?”
“It’s blood sausage, and it’s high in iron.”
“High in fucking sickness.”
“There you go, offending my sensibilities again.” She glanced at Georgia. “It’s been lovely, but I’ve got to wash the stench of Glastonbury off and go to the call center for my shift.”
“Okay, babes.” Georgia flung soapy water from her fingers before she leaned down by the sink to look out the window. “It’s nice out, you want to go to the beach later? Watch the sunset like we used to?”
“They have beaches in England?”
“Yeah.” She laughed. “It’s an island, you know.”
Beaches conjured to mind the image of Miami or Hawaii, The Golden Coast or the French Riviera. Not Great Britain. I wrapped my arms around Georgia’s waist. “Well, England just has everything, doesn’t it? Beaches and old rocks and you.” I kissed her throat.
Her fingers crept over the back of my neck and threaded through my hair. That simple touch was enough to make me hard.
