Page 95 of Bad at Love
Bloody hell. I don’t even know where I am right now.
I collapse against her, gasping for breath, burying my face in hair that I already feel holds all my whispered words, the words that never make it to paper.
Fuck. She holds every fucking part of me in that big, beautiful soul of hers.
I can’t swallow properly and my breath is slow to return. There’s always a moment of clarity after you come, and this one holds an earth-shattering truth.
You will lose everything if you lose her.
I don’t know why my mind is automatically going there, but it is.
I blink it away, shake my head, and slowly pull out.
I lie down beside her and she turns her head to face me. Her eyes are glazed, her cheeks bright red. I’ve left pink fingermarks on her neck.
She looks thoroughly fucked.
A lazy smile spreads across her lips.
“Room service?” she asks.
“Well,if it isn’t famous poet Lazarus Scott,” Jane says dryly as I approach the table. “Who apparently has some super human ability to not look like a piece of shit after a night of drinking.”
I laugh and sit down in the booth next to her, causing her to move over and spill her coffee onto the saucer. “Good morning to you, too. Too bad we’re not related by blood, you could definitely use some English in you to help you deal with this.” I wave my fingers over her face.
“Very funny,” she says. She does look worse for wear, bleary-eyed and pale with smudges of old makeup under her eyes. Doesn’t help that I think she’s in her pajamas.
“Oh, it’s nothing to do with being British,” Naomi says and I look across the table at her. She doesn’t look as bad as Jane and if I’m not mistaken, there might even be a bit of a twinkle in her eyes.
I squint at her and smile and have a feeling we’re both on the same page right now. As in, we both got lucky last night.
“Where’s Marina?” she asks and now I know for sure she’s onto us.
“She’s coming,” I tell her with a smirk.
“I bet she is,” Naomi says, taking a bite of her eggs.
We’re in a diner around the corner from the hotel. Jane and Naomi already got a head start on brunch, which is fine because Marina and I had room service earlier. Followed by more sex.
Followed by more sex.
And suddenly I’m hungry again.
“What is she doing?” Jane asks. “She is coming, right? I feel bad I didn’t get to see her as much as I should have.”
“Well then come down for Christmas this year. Bring your boyfriend. I’m sure your dad would love to meet him.”
She scoffs and gives me the death look which is further exaggerated by the fact she kind of looks like death. “Yeah, right. Getting out of that house, leaving LA, that was the best thing I’ve ever done.”
“Well you could always come visit me, you know.”
“And me,” Naomi pipes up.
“And me,” Marina says, standing at the end of the table. Naomi looks up at her and scooches over on the bench so she can sit down. “By the way, what are we talking about?”
She’s smiling, big, all teeth, all joy, looking around the table and pausing at me when she catches my eye. I can’t help but smile back.
Naomi clears her throat. “We were talking about Jane coming to visit all of us for Christmas and bringing her boyfriend.”
