Page 98 of Bad at Love
But I am no longer normal.
I am sunshine.
I grin at the barista and take my drink from him. “Thank you.”
“You’re welcome,” the guy, Chris, says. See, I can gethisname right. “You look different.”
“Do I?”
“Yeah. Did you go on vacation or something? You’re all glowy.”
“I went to New York over the weekend,” I tell him. “Must be that east coast sun.”
He just nods and I turn away beaming at the compliment because Ifeeldifferent, like I’m a whole new woman.
And the cause of that transformation just walked in the door to the coffee shop. Helps that Laz literally lives right across the street.
“Hiya,” Laz says to me, smiling broadly, causing those gorgeous crinkles at the corners of his eyes.
“Hi,” I tell him and even though I’m overjoyed to see him, there’s still a sliver of awkwardness between us. I haven’t seen him since we got off the plane yesterday. He kissed me goodbye as he dropped me off at my house and I wanted him to come in so I could fuck him in my own bed but he had already made plans to head to Long Beach to jam with Frank and the band, and I had a lot of stuff to do at my place.
So we made plans to meet here for coffee, like an actual date, and then see what happens next.
Honestly, I just want him to drag me across to his apartment, which is why I picked this location to meet, but I also want to keep my hormones in check for one moment and actually talk to him.
Because we havea lotto talk about.
Or, at least, one important thing.
And until we discuss said thing, I’m not sure what I should do right now. Do I go over and kiss him? Here, in public? Is that what we do? Is that acting out of line? I have no idea?
So I just stand there smiling at Laz and he stands there smiling at me and then a spot opens up across the crowded café (I swear to god, it’s always full of everyone and theirscreenplay in this joint) and I gesture to it with a shake of my head.
But he just comes over to me, places his longer fingers at the small of my waist, leans in to give me a kiss on the cheek. My heart cranks up, my pulse quickening. It’s like my hormones have been conditioned to come to life just from his proximity, from the moment his body heat interacts with mine, when his warm and spicy scent floods my senses.
“It’s too loud in here,” he says to me as he pulls away, eyes focused warmly on mine. “Let me get a coffee and we’ll take a walk along the river.”
“Sure,” I say but I barely hear it.
I watch as he goes to the counter and gets a coffee, black, which thankfully takes no time at all, and take in the sight of him. Today he’s wearing his usual get up, though he’s switched out the boots for burgundy, suede skate shoes, dark-blue jeans and a thin, black T-shirt that says San Antonio Music Fest in burgundy font that matches his shoes. Actually, the more that I stare at him, the more I realize that he’s put more effort than normal into what he’s wearing. He always looks good. You know, sexy rocker kind of good. Today he looks like he wanted to impress.
And I’m impressed. He could wear a paper bag and I’d be impressed. I’d be the most impressed if he were naked because that man has a body that begs to be shown off. It would be an extremely inappropriate way to go and get your coffee, but hey.
I can’t believe we’ve had sex, I think, for the millionth time.I can’t believe that man, my friend, that sexy British beast, had his dick deep inside of me. I can’t believe he made me come, over and over. I can’t believe I know what that all feels like.
He comes back to me, coffee in hand. “Ready?”
I nod, wishing my heart would calm down a little. It’s just a walk. We’re just two friends with their drinks, heading out along the river, about to discuss what all the hot sex between them meant.
The Los Angeles River runs pretty much right behind Laz’s apartment, with a pedestrian path working its way along the shore. It’s a nice little secret this area has, the river has been cleaned up, and at the moment, is full and flowing, with birds and foliage giving it the feel of an oasis in the middle of the city. Sometimes I even see people kayaking down it.
We start strolling along the path and I’m tempted to just ignore the weight that’s on my chest and talk about other stuff—like bees—but then Laz says, “So, you said we needed to talk?”
And at that, he takes my hand in his and grips it firmly.
Okay, here we go.
I clear my throat. “Uh, yeah. I do. So…”
