Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
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 their screenplay 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…”
I glance up at him. He’s looking down at me curiously. Maybe even nervously. Maybe I’m just imagining that.
“So…?”
“Right. Okay. This isn’t easy for me to say…”
His hand turns into a vice, clamping hard around mine.
I continue, “but I just wanted to know where we stand. With each other. Because yesterday when Naomi said you were my boyfriend, neither of us corrected her. So I was wondering if…that’s what you are? I mean, no pressure. I know we haven’t really discussed what happened after we had all the sex. And I don’t know if we’re still just friends. If we’re friends who are now sleeping together. Or if we’re something even…more…than that.”
Laz doesn’t say anything for a moment, comes to a stop. Closes his eyes and exhales through his lips.
Oh shit. Oh my god. Did I scare him off? Is he about to break up with me even though we’re not together?
I stiffen, bracing myself.
“What do you want?” he finally says, his voice low. He looks at me openly. “Do you want to be just friends? Do you want to continue sleeping together? Do you want me to be more?”
That’s so not fair, he just turned the whole question around on me.
“I’m afraid if I tell you what I want, you might not want the same thing.”
“Try me.”
I nod, swallow. “Okay.” I pause, absently watching an egret fly past because it’s easier to focus on that and tell the truth than look at him. “I just want you, Laz. I have…feelings for you. Big ones. And I can’t go back to just being your friend again. I’m sorry, really sorry, if that’s not what you were wanting from me and that I’ve ruined it all but I just…I want more of you. I want more sex. I want this, us walking together, you holding my hand. I want to date you, for real this time. Be with you. Be in a full-on romantic and physical and exclusive relationship with you.” I let out a burst of air, shake my shoulders and prepare to get my heart broken.