“Just open the goddamn door, Gabe.”
“Alright, alright. Don’t get your panties in a wad.”
“Who says I’m wearing any?”
Fuck. I shoot out of bed and squeeze my dick, trying to release a little of the blood from it in the hopes it will go down.No such luck. Not after that parting shot, and not when I know Lo is standing at my door waiting for me to let her in.
I throw on a pair of gray sweats and trudge downstairs through the parlor. I can’t help the smile that practically breaksopen my face when I see her there. I fumble with the locks and open the door.
“Hey.”
“Hey,” she says, kissing my cheek. “Took you long enough.”
“Well, you know me. I’m nothing if not punctual.”
“Yeah, right.” She hands me the box of grocery items.
I take it and stare down at the present wrapped on top. “Ooh, present.”
“Later. Go take care of that first.” She points to the box slung low in front of my boner. I’m not sure if she’s talking about my junk or the groceries, but I trudge upstairs and set the box on my kitchen counter, and then I visit the bathroom to hit the head—only my dick won’t be a good boy and sit the fuck down. I jump in a quick shower and Lo’s laughter echoes through my tiny loft apartment. The fact that she knows what I’m doing in here urges me on and I take a little longer jerking it against my tiled walls while I imagine my fist is her slick little pussy squeezing my dick.
When I get out, the scent of spices, chorizo, tomatoes and freshly brewed coffee assaults my nostrils. Ever since she took that job working at a Mexican restaurant on the boardwalk, she’s been making the most amazing fucking food. I’ve been at her house every night off right at dinner time just hoping she’s made extra.
“Smells good,” I say, drying off my hair on my towel. I have another wrapped around my waist.
“It is good.” She turns with a smile, but it quickly falters as her eyes roam over my naked torso. “Are you going to put some clothing on?”
I smirk. “Wasn’t planning on it. Why, does it bother you?”
“Nope. Not in the slightest.”
I laugh. “Liar.”
“Anyway, happy birthday.”
“What did you make me?”
“Oh, it’s Spanish eggs. A new recipe Arturo gave me.”
“The old guy?”
“Old? Please, he only just celebrated his forty-third birthday. Though, I guess anything above twenty-nineispractically ancient.” She gives me that cheeky smile of hers that floors me. My heart threatens to beat right out of my chest.
“Not so cocky, Freckles. You’re only a year behind me.”
“A year and three weeks.” She cringes. “God, how did we get so old, Gabe?”
“I think it’s called life, babe.”
She sighs and digs into her eggs. “So, what do you want to do today?”
I take a bite too and moan as the spices and sausage roll over my tastebuds.Fuck. I think I’m getting hard again. “I don’t know.”
“You don’t know?”
I shrug. “Get drunk and make stupid decisions with my best friend.”
“Well, that’s kind of a given, isn’t it?”