Page 63 of Breaking Hollywood

“You want to make your coffee Irish?” he asks.

“You used scotch. Wouldn’t that make it Scottish?”

His lips press together in a smile. “Someone’s snarky this morning.”

I raise a disapproving brow. “Don’t you think it’s a little early to be making coffee anything of the European type?”

His eyes darken, not looking impressed. “If I wanted to be nagged on the regular, I’d get married. I’m not, so I’ll make my coffee however the fuck I want.” Taking his coffee with him and leaving behind one of his crutches, he heads out of the kitchen.

He’s right. I shouldn’t be interfering in how he lives his life.

It’s not like I have anything to be singing about.

Lost my job, ran over a movie star with my car, homeless. Yeah, I should keep my opinions to myself.

Grabbing the bottle of scotch, I pick up my coffee and go into the living room. I see Gabe through the window, sitting out on the terrace. He’s smoking a cigarette.

Gucci is lying out by the pool. She looks like she’s sunbathing. All she needs is a towel and a bathing suit, and she’d be good to go.

I wonder if you can get bathing suits for goats.

I go outside and sit on the lounger next to him.

“Sorry,” I say. “I’ll keep my opinions to myself from now on.”

He doesn’t look at me. The only response I get is a nod of his head.

I put my coffee down on the lounger and pour some scotch into it. I put the scotch on the floor.

When I look at Gabe, he’s watching me with mild amusement.

“I thought it was too early to be making things Scottish.”

“Clearly, you’re a bad influence. And I figured, if you can’t beat him, join him.”

His lips lift at the corner. “I’m all for kinky, Speedy, but beating’s not my thing. Now, a little light spanking, and I’m your man.”

Gabe spanking me? Yes, please.

I laugh, despite myself. “You’re incorrigible.”

“It’s my best feature.” He grins. Putting his cup to his lips, he takes a drink.

I do the same. And then I start coughing. “God, that’s strong. I think I put too much in.”

Gabe laughs.

I like the sound of his laugh. It’s raspy and deep. Like it comes from somewhere hidden deep inside him. But I like it most when it’s me making him laugh.

I sit back with my coffee and stare out at the view.

It’s lovely up here.

And hot.

The sun is beating down, and I can feel myself starting to sweat. This sweater really was not a good idea. Maybe I should change into a T-shirt.

Gabe sighs lightly and leans back on the lounger, staring up at the sky. He takes a drag of his cigarette. I watch him. I see just how dark the skin surrounding his eyes looks. I didn’t notice before.