Page 46 of No Romeo
Exclusivity… I snorted at that. She was one to say something about being exclusive.
Bellamy’s avatar chased me around a bush. “Then why are you here?” he asked her.
I shot him, then glanced across the couch at him. “She’s renting the room.”
“You're renting the spare room… to your ex-girlfriend.” His wide-eyed gaze drifted from the TV to Lola. “Your psychotically jealous, insane-as-hell ex-girlfriend?”
“Did I stutter, cocksucker?”
A lighter whizzed past his face. “I am not psychotic, you asshole.”
When pushed, she absolutely was. Like a feral hyena spoon-fed a little helping of meth.
“You are both equally psychotic. This is going to be a massive shitshow.” He rejoined the game. “You two are going to kill each other. It’s going to be like Amber Turd shitting on the bed times one hundred.”
Lola took a seat on the arm of the recliner, right in front of the box fan. I tried to focus on the game until she crossed one leg over the other. The movement inched the hem of her shirt a little farther up her thigh. Damn, she had the best legs. And I had a thing for those best legs…
“Ha! Take that, you asshole,” Bell shouted.
I glanced back at the screen and found my avatar in a pool of blood.Laughing, he reached underneath the couch and pulled my box of Pop-Tarts out of its hiding spot.
I slapped a hand to my forehead when he unwrapped the foil and took a bite. “Man, why would you do that?”
“What is your deal?”
“Hiding Pop-Tarts from me now, Hendrix?” Taking a slow sip of her coffee, Lola smirked. “You know I love a challenge.”
Last night she was raging over me imaginary fucking some other girl, and now she was wanting to play games with my Pop-Tarts just to piss me off.
Whiplash.Medusa-induced whiplash.
“Great, Bell.” I whacked him. “Look what you’ve done now.”
“Ate a Pop-Tart. That I paid for?” He set the open box on the coffee table.
“No.” I pointed an angry finger across the room at the evil perched on the recliner. “You’ve let Medusa in on one of my hiding spots.”
He shook his head and pushed off the couch. “Can’t wait to see what happens when she hears your headboard banging the wall. Do you want white roses or red at your funeral?”
“I don’t care who he screws,” Lola said. “Same as he doesn’t care who I screw. Do you, Hendrix?”
My attention snapped to her with that damn mug and those damn legs. The bones in my neck cracked. I cared. Oh, Icaaaaared. “If you like fucking corpses,” I said, then bit the inside of my cheek on a laugh I knew bordered on psychotic. But that was what the girl did. She drove me to the edge of madness.
My grip on the controller tightened, my brow lifting as I stared across the room at her. “Because if a guy is stupid enough to come over here and fuck you, that’s what he’s going to be—a dead, rotting corpse.”
“Screw Pop-Tarts.” Bellamy cackled, tossing the wrapper on the coffee table. “I need popcorn forthiscrap.”
“Well, what’s good for the goose is good for the gander.” Lola lifted a brow.
My eye twitched just as the backdoor creaked open, then banged shut. “I’ll fucking goose your gander…” Pluck it and stuff it.
Bellamy snorted just as Wolf stepped into the living room from the kitchen. His bloodshot eyes widened when he glanced at Lola in the recliner. “Why is she in my chair?” His attention shot toward me. “Ah, hell. You’re fucking her again, aren’t you?”
Lola huffed. “I’m renting a room. No fucking. Get over it already.”
Wolf slapped a hand to his face and shook his head. “And this is how the world ends.”
“You’re the biggest pair of drama queens I’ve ever met,” Lola grumbled before pushing to her feet.
