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“I guess, deep down I didn’t. But you’re you and you smoke,” she said with a shrug. “So sure, it’s inadvisable and probably illegal. But it’s not up to me to tell you what to do.”
After such understanding, all I could offer her was, “I do try not to blow it your way.”
“I figured as much.”
She rolled to her side and I felt her staring at me.
“What?”
“Nothing,” she said. “I was just wondering why you were still here.”
I had a feeling I knew where she was going with that and I was planning on avoiding it if possible.
“Well, killing myself seems a little drastic and no matter how hard I try to put myself in dubious situations, I just seem unkillable.”
“That is in incredibly poor taste, Roman.” There was something about the way she said my name that I liked. I think that was why I preferred it when we called each other by our last names.
I snuffed my smoke and rolled to face her, knowing I was going to have to answer her questions at some point. “Why am I still where, Piper?”
“Here. Surely your booty calls miss you? Or are you fitting them in around me?”
My ‘booty calls’ could miss me all they liked. I didn’t give a fuck. But that wasn’t what got me about her words. She sounded like she legitimately thought there was no reason for me to be spending time with her.
“You make yourself sound like an obligation.”
“It hadn’t crossed my mind until now.”
And now I felt the urge to reassure her. “Instead of me explaining myself, how about I just tell you I’m thinking of some choice nancy wanker words?”
“I don’t like it any more than you,” she teased.
“Don’t like it?” I said, pretending to be shocked.
“What’s to like about the fact I find you easy to be around?”
“You could have sat in your room. I am quite adept at pity parties for one.”
She closed the gap between us. “But we’re better at pity parties for two.”
And fuck me, but she was right.
She was right and she was right there.
Looking at me again like… Like that.
I could do it. I could just kiss her here and now. We were moments away from our lips meeting. Or we could have been. The air seemed to crackle around us and there went that foreign tingling feeling along my arms and legs. She didn’t move forward, so neither did I, but I was under her spell.
“There’s something far more satisfying in making you feel better than moping alone, Barlow,” I heard myself say and wanted to smack myself. I cleared my throat and lay down to put as much space between us as I could stomach. “Plus, who would I sing to?”
I could feel her eyes on me and I saw the smile from the corner of my eye. So I turned to her with all the grumpiness I could muster.
“What? If you’re going to take another picture, warn me this time.”
She shook her head. “No. One is plenty.”
Wrong. “On the contrary, Barlow. A phone full would never be enough.”
“I do not need a phone full of pictures of you.”
