Chapter Twelve
A soft snore rouses me, but I refuse to open my eyes, burrowing deeper into the crisp cotton sheets. Cotton?
My heart rate spikes seconds before my brain does. My eyes ping open, now fully awake. I take note of the white ceiling above me, and the gray peeking around the edges of my peripheral vision. I groan, remembering which hotel room I fell asleep in, or more specifically, whose.
The snore comes again, and I bite my lip, holding back my chuckle. Well, this is a first. I slowly turn my head to the left, careful not to make a sound or move the bed. Sure enough, curled up mere inches from me is Jeremy, sound asleep, snoring softly. His eyelashes flutter, and his forehead pulls down, the longer hair on top slipping over the crease. I raise my hand up to brush it back, only to freeze an inch from contact. Friends, he said. I chew on my lip, continuing to watch Jeremy sleep. He looks so young, so innocent, so… appealing . I ’ m sure he has his own dirty secrets hiding in the back of his closet. But celibacy, really? I did not see that one coming.
A smile teases the corners of my mouth as I slide off the bed and quietly head for the door, collecting my things on the way. Friends? Challenge accepted . How hard can that be?
“ So, how was last night?” Laura asks, stepping aside from the counter as we wait for our coffee.
“ You ’ re going to quiz me before I ’ ve had caffeine?” I ask. She quirks a brow in response. “ Different. ” A grin I can ’ t seem to fight crawls its way up my face.
“ I know that look.”
“ What look?”
“ The I-had-the-best-night-of-my-life look. It ’ s been a while.”
Her smug expression makes me want to punch her. “ I don ’ t think I ’ ve ever had that look, Law. This ,”— I wave my hand in front of my face —” is hardly that look. It ’ s the my-coffee-is-almost-here look.”
“ Sure it is. Is he likely to be a repeat performance?”
God, I hope not. My cell dings before I respond.
“ Hold up. Who ’ s texting you if it ’ s not me?” The surprise and curiosity are clear in Laura ’ s wide eyes and pursed lips.
“ Well, I won ’ t know until I check, now will I? I do have other people.”
“ No, you don ’ t.”
I ignore the jibe and pull out my cell, instantly curbing my enthusiasm at seeing Jeremy ’ s name on my screen.
J: I guess you can add ‘ quiet as a mouse ’ to your resume.
“ Are you remodeling your place?”
“ Nope. ” My lip twitches.
V: Sleeping Beauty stirs.
J: Ha ha. Thanks for the late check-out, BTW. I ’ m only going to be an hour late to work. :/
“Or, hmm. Travel consultant? Wait. When do you use someone other than me?”
V: Oops. You should have thought of that before booking me. FYI, you snore. Like a girl.
“Keep guessing. This is highly entertaining.”
J: I do not. Do I? You should have woken me up before you left . We could have had breakfast.
V: You do. It ’ s cute. I had somewhere to be. Besides, I wasn ’ t about to kiss you to wake you, Princess :P
Laura lunges for my cell, but I pull back a moment before her grubby mitts can make contact as another message comes through.
J: Did you see the bathroom? I can ’ t believe they call that tiny thing a shower. You would have loved it.
I snort, and Laura huffs.
V: Just remember—long, deep strokes. Unless you need a helping hand?
“ Marcus! You ’ re still talking to Marcus, right? Is he in town?”
I shrug. “ Not currently. He ’ s on tour for the next three months, which usually means radio silence.”
J: Lol. I already checked out. You snooze, or in your case, leave and miss out. Plus, I have two of my own. They work just fine.
V: You need two hands???
“ Two macchiatos for Laura? ”
I chuckle as Laura all but bursts out of her skin to get our coffees, but when I reach for mine, she tugs it out of the way, almost splashing the liquid gold on herself.
“ Really?”
“ I ’ m not giving you your coffee until you spill the beans. Who are you texting? Are you seeing someone I don ’ t know about?”
“ You know I ’ m stronger and faster than you, right?”
My cell dings again, and she glares, her fingers tightening on the paper cups. “ And? ”
“ Withholding my happy juice is going to get you nowhere. Give me the coffee, and I won ’ t have to hurt you.”
“ Tell me who ’ s got that dirty grin on your face, and I ’ ll happily pass over the goods.”
I reach again, and this time Laura does splash it all over herself, squealing when it makes contact with her flesh.
“ You silly wench,” I laugh.“Now you spilled all the beans. Look at all that wasted coffee,” I groan, heading for the line again to order another.
“ What about my skin?”
“ Karma? ”
“ Ass. ”
I shrug, pulling my cell out.
J: Two hands are better than one.
“ You ’ re not seriously going to wait in line for another fifteen minutes? Vee? Vivienne? Oh my god, fine. Take my fucking coffee.”
I smile in victory as Laura shoves her coffee at my chest, barely managing to miss scorching me in the process, then storms out of the coffee shop.
V: Imagine how much better four would be…among other things ;)
Friends . I ’ ve totally got this. I snigger following after her, stowing my cell in my bag. “ Retail therapy?”
“ Fine. But after work, and you ’ re paying.”
“ Sure thing, Calamity Jane.”
“ You are officially forgiven. That dress is to die for, and I ’ m completely spent!”
It only cost me two hours and several thousand dollars to win her back. Totally worth it, though. Laura heads to my living room, collapsing on my couch with all her bags scattered at her feet. I dump mine near my bedroom door, kicking my shoes in that general direction, and turn to head for the kitchen when my ass—or more specifically , the phone in my pocket— vibrates.
J: There seems to be a large sum in my account. Care to explain?
I grin.
V: You won the lotto?
J: Not really their MO.
V: Your sister paid you back?
J: Hardly. You don ’ t give refunds, so… ?
It ’ s true. We don ’ t. But Jeremy isn ’ t—wasn ’ t— a client.
V: Just say thank you.
J: Arigat ō.
I catch myself still smiling and quickly pocket my cell just before Laura looks back at me. Her brow pulls down a fraction as she studies me standing there like a moron.
“ What are you doing, Whoreface? ’ Cos that doesn ’ t look like you ’ re making me dinner.”
“ When have I ever? There are some menus under the coffee table. Pick something. I ’ ll sort out the wine and try to find some snacks.”
“ Popcorn! Though I might settle for crackers.”
No sooner had I walked into the kitchen when my ass buzzes again. I pull it out and check that Laura is occupied before reading the message.
J: Do you really not kiss on the mouth?
V: Random.
J: It was in your contract.
V: Ah. You really did read the whole thing. No lip-to-lip action. Correct.
J: Why?
I groan, putting the phone down on the counter while I ransack my cupboards, trying not to hum Old Mother Hubbard.
J: Come on, I ’ m curious. Do you suck at it?
V: No, Jer. The only thing I suck at is dick.
Picturing his face all flustered after that remark has me biting my lip so I don ’ t burst out laughing.
J: I walked into that one…
V: Yeah, you did. Practically begged for it.
V: But, for your nosy information, I ’ m an exceptional kisser. It ’ s rather a waste keeping all that skill to myself.
J: Wait. You don ’ t kiss at all, even non-clients?
V: What non-clients?
J: Right, no dating.
J: When was the last time you kissed someone?
V: I don ’ t know. Probably the last time you had sex.
J: Was it Marcus?
V: I don ’ t know, Jer. Why does it matter?
There ’ s a pause before the next text follows, and I look up at hearing Laura on the phone ordering food. Awesome. I ’ m starving, and my cupboards are bare.
J: Why ’ d you stop?
V: Choice.
J: Whole truth?
V: Because nothing puts you off your game like a terrible kisser.
J: Your game? You mean, you can ’ t do your job if they suck, or can ’ t suck. Lol.
V: I had one rule in life—bad kissers were a no go.
J: One rule?
V: Lol. I ’ m sure I had more than one. I never cheated with or on anyone. Not knowingly.
Does that rule still apply if you ’ re paid?
J: How moral of you.
V: 0:)
“ Hey, I ordered Thai, and I ’ m putting on The Walking Dead . Hurry up with the wine, would ya?” Laura hollers over her shoulder.
“ Perfect. White it is, then.” I pull two glasses from the cupboard and a Riesling from the fridge, making my way to the couch.
“ Don ’ t get any ideas, Hooker. This is not a Netflix and chill situation.”
“ Well, if that ’ s the case, I ’ ll keep all the Chunky Monkey to myself. No point wasting that if I ’ m not gettin ’ any.”
Laura ’ s eyes go wide. “ You wouldn ’ t! ”
I raise an eyebrow in response.
“ God, you would, wouldn ’ t you?” I grin, and she pulls a face before walking off in the direction of my bathroom, muttering something that sounds a hell of a lot like “ whore” under her breath.
“ It ’ s a good thing I have two tubs in the freezer, then,” I yell after her.
“ Bitch,” she mutters loudly.
I chuckle to myself and check my phone, hopefully for the last time before Laura catches on.
J: So that ’ s the reason?
V: Yep.
J: No other reason?
V: If I tell you the other reason, will you stop harassing me so I can go back to TWD?
J: HA. I knew you liked it.
V: Yeah, yeah.
V: It helps eliminate those pesky things called feelings. So clients don ’ t get emotionally attached.
J: And you?
V: Haven ’ t you learned by now? I don ’ t do emotional. Or attachments. Now, lemme get back to Daryl. This season is just getting good.
J: Fine, fine.
J: You know he dies at the end, right?
V: WHAT?????
He lied.