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Why do you think there’s a she?
Salazar
It’s Barlow, isn’t it?
Lombardi
What?
Salazar
You’ve been hanging out but not fucking Barlow, haven’t you?
Lombardi
Why would you think that?
Salazar
Because the boner she gives you can be seen from space.
Lombardi
So? Doesn’t mean I’m hanging out with her.
Salazar
Just admit you want to marry her and have lots of sex and babies, and we can all move on with our lives.
Lombardi
Fuck. Off.
I shoved my phone in my pocket and looked for my lighter. I needed a bottle of Jack and five smokes. Stat.
“There is so way I’m seeing his smug arse tonight,” I muttered to myself.
Not that I’d actually been planning to.
The night before, Piper had not so casually asked me if I had plans the next night and I’d not so casually informed her than I had a date with Rio. I didn’t. I just didn’t want her thinking my plans revolved around her potentially being at the lake again.
It wasn’t lost on me that I might not have been the only one. I didn’t know how often Piper came to the lake as a rule, but she’d been there the second night. We’d organised the night before. It stood to reason that maybe she was hoping I’d be there as much as I was hoping she’d be there.
“And what in the fuck is wrong with me?” I muttered, feeling gross and antsy.
But then I thought about the fact that Piper Barlow might be at the lake, there was a possibility – as small as it might have been – that she might have not hated my company, and I didn’t fucking care what was wrong with me.
I nabbed my shit, grabbed a jacket and headed out.
“Maddy in bed?” I asked and Mum nodded.
“You’re off?” Mum asked from the couch.
I nodded. “That okay?”
She shrugged. “Love, I’ve long since stopped hoping that you care what I think is ‘okay’.”
I cleared my throat. “I’m heading to the lake.”
