Page 105 of No Romeo
“How much you want to bet the screenwriter got inspired by2 Girls 1 Cup?”
The volume turned up, suspenseful music filling the room. “Stop talking,” Zepp said.
“I fucked Lola in your recliner this morning,” Hendrix said.” You’re sitting in our juices.”
Zepp chucked the remote at Hendrix before shoving out of the recliner and going into the kitchen.
“Consider it payback for all the times you desecrated our kitchen with Red’s hyena-howling ass.”
“Jail. I want to go back to jail,” he called before the bang of the back door sounded.
Snorting, I lay down and put my head on Hendrix’s thigh. His fingers dragged through the tangled strands of my hair. Everything with him was always chaotic and unpredictable, but I lived for these quiet moments when it was just us.
“Zepp’s gone,” I said. “Why are we still watching this?”
“It’s like a car crash. It makes you sick, but you can’t look away.”
A few more minutes of the terrible movie played before Hendrix’s steady sweeps through my hair stopped. “I had an idea about the raffles.”
We’d been doing them every week, making way more money than I had by stealing cars, and it wasalmostlegal.
I rolled onto my back and looked up at him. “Yeah?”
“I’m thinking of getting a Coach bag to raffle at the wrestling match this week.”
He’d moved from football games to wrestling matches and any fundraiser he could find. But of all the things... I tried to work out how the hell his squirreled-out brain had decided on a purse. “Why a Coach bag?”
“Why not? Women like designer stuff. And there’s a Coach outlet over in Barrington.” He wasn’t wrong, but…
“How are you going to steal that?” I slid my hand beneath his shirt, absently stroking over the warm skin of his side. “Those designer stores have security guards. With two working eyes. And the bags are all tagged.”
“I’m not talking about stealing one.” A smirk lifted his lips just as a loud scream came from the movie. “I went by the outlet store earlier today. It’s one-sixty on sale, but it retails for four hundred. We’ve been making good money off small kitchen appliances. I bet we could make six hundred for a designer bag.”
Holy shit. He was serious. He’d researched prices and everything. I sat up on the couch and met his gaze. “You’re talking about doing something… legal?”
“Don’t say it like that.” The Christmas lights changed to blue, casting shadows over his face as he shuddered. “It feels dirty.”
Everyone gave Hendrix shit for being stupid, but he was actually really smart. On a grin, I pressed my lips to his. “I’m proud of you.”
“Are you gonna still love me if I’m not a criminal? I know a bad boy does it for you.”
Hedid it for me. “Babe,” I crawled into his lap and kissed his jaw, “I don’t think you have to worry about getting a halo just yet.”
“I’ll put a fucking halo in you.” He bit my lip before shoving me back onto the couch.
I laughed. That didn’t even make sense, but it didn’t have to. It was Hendrix. He went for the waist of my pajama bottoms, and I stopped him.
“Zepp’s going to come back in any second,” I said.
He reached behind him and grabbed a ratty blanket from the couch, covering us both. “And he’ll go right back out.”
***
Chad’s headlights cut over the old porch as he backed out of Hendrix’s drive. Gracie shot around Hendrix toward the front door, high on peppermint cotton candy and Christmas joy.
“A hundred bucks. Just to take her to see Santa?” Hendrix stared at me, white puffs of air passing his lips.
“Mr. Lancaster clearly doesn’t know how much cotton candy costs. Although, thirty bucks for a picture with Santa…maybe you should dress up next year.” I laughed at the thought of him in stripey elf tights.
