Chapter 14 Marina
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
MARINA
“SO MUCH LOVE”
“Matcha latte for Martina!” the barista calls out.
Loudly.
Right in my ear.
It’s not like I haven’t been standing by the pick-up counter for five minutes or anything.
Normally I would grumble about the fact that I’ve been coming to this coffee shop for years now and they still can’t get my name right. Normally I’d complain about how long it takes to make a matcha latte.
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 get his name 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 I feel different, 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 have a lot to 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 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.
He grins at me, a big beautiful smile that melts me into a puddle.
“You sweet, sweet girl,” he murmurs, leaning down.
I tilt my head back, smile against his lips as they press against mine.
“So?” I ask him softly as he pulls back.
“I can’t do the friend thing anymore either,” he says, “even though you’re still my best one. And I don’t want to just fuck you, though I have to say, I love fucking you. I want you to be mine, through and through. Mine and only mine.”
“You’re sure?”
“Never been so sure of something in all my life,” he says to me. “And it feels bloody good.”
Bliss. This is pure bliss. This is sunshine in my veins, sunbursts in my heart. This is everything I’ve wanted to hear.
Almost. But I have no doubt, we’ll get there.
Won’t we?
“What are you doing later?” he asks me. “I’d invite you over to the apartment right now but it’s like Venice Beach up in there.”
“Why?”
“Scooby has a bunch of buskers over. I told him it was fine, as long as the fire breather stayed away from the curtains. I double-checked that we had a fire extinguisher just in case.”
“Well…” I say slowly. “Actually, I have plans and I was kind of hoping you’d come with me.”
“Where?”
I wince. “Out for lunch with my father and my aunt.”
“I’m glad to hear he’s doing better.”
“Yeah, supposedly. And I know I can do it on my own and it’s not just about the moral support, I just really want you to see him, meet him, when he’s sober.”
“I’ve met your father before, Marina. Sober. I know he’s a good man, you don’t have to try and prove anything to me.”
“I know but…” I trail off.
He squeezes my hand. “I’ll come. For sure.”
“Really?”
“Really.”
“Did you know that bees, ants and ravens are the only species, other than humans, that can communicate time and distance to each other?”
Laz’s brows twitch. “You’re nervous.”
“Because I’m talking about bees?”
“Yes. It’s a tell of yours. Like, if I was a detective interrogating you, that would be one of your tells. I’d ask you if it was you that robbed the bank and you’d tell me that when the worker bees kill the queen, they basically cuddle her to death.”
“It’s also called a murder ball,” I tell him, impressed that he remembered that fact. We’re sitting in his car, waiting outside P.F. Changs in a mall parking lot. We’re early to meet my father and Margaret, which, yes, has given me plenty of time to be nervous. “Do I have any other tells?”
“Well I know the ones when you’re nervous. Not sure if that always means you’re lying.”
“I never lie.”
“Bullshit.” His mouth curves into a bemused smile. “You lied just then. I saw your tell.”
“Which is?”
“You press your lips together afterward. Like you’re trying not to smile.”
He’s probably right. When I do lie, I often feel like laughing, like I never think I’ll pull it off.
“So, what’s my tell?” he asks.
I study him for a moment. His strong jaw, those lips that bring me to another place, those dark, arched expressive brows that tell me everything and the moody, intense eyes underneath.
I smile.