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Her brow wrinkles in confusion.
“So what did you do?”
“Talked a bit. Made out. Fell asleep.”
“Huh,” she mutters. “Maybe he’s not the man I thought he was,” she muses.
“Bri, the guy took us to a fucking sex club the first night we met and tied me to a…”
“St. Andrew’s cross,” Bri supplies when I struggle to come up with its name.
“Yeah, that,” I mutter, pulling open her bottom drawer that houses my stuff.
Prior to Joe and then Dad dying, I was practically living here with her. But Mum’s needed me too much, and I’ve been spending more and more time at home once again.
I miss it, though. The freedom, the endless nights out. Even the crazy nights in.
With a sigh, I pull on some knickers and drag a pair of leggings up my legs.
“I don’t think we need to be discussing that boy's ability to do the job right.”
“Maybe so… but to not fuck you on the sofa, and you were both naked. Guy must have the self-control of a fucking rock.”
“He was thoughtful. It was… nice.”
“Weird,” she says at the same time, making me laugh.
“There are nice guys out there, Bri. Just because you’re attracted to the dickheads, it doesn’t mean they don’t exist.”
“Yeah, I’m sure they do. I’d rather have one who breaks my bed, though, and not my heart.”
Pulling on a bralette, I tug a floral dress over my head and rummage in her wardrobe, hoping I left some shoes here. Hell knows I can’t wear her clown shoes.
“Bingo,” I hiss, finding a pair of boots I’d forgotten existed.
I should probably make some effort to do something with my hair and makeup, but that’s not happening until I’ve had more coffee and food. Throwing my hair up in a messy bun, I turn to Bri, who’s lounging in her bed, half asleep. Hardly surprising if she was up all night.
“Will I do?” I ask, holding my arms out from my sides.
“Girl, he’d still look at you like a sap if you were wearing a bin bag.”
I raise my brows at her.
“You look perfect. Now go. I want those smelly boys out of my flat.”
I open my mouth to tell her that the only way they smell is mouth-watering, but I quickly decide against it.
She’s made up her mind, and there will be no changing it.
“Right, let’s go. I need food,” I announce, walking over to where Toby is dressed, bar his jumper that’s in my hands. He smiles at me as he takes it and pulls it over his head.
“Thank fuck, a female who agrees with something I say,” Nico barks. “Thanks for the orgasms, Siren.” He winks at Bri, who’s appeared in the doorway, now in her own oversized hoodie, allowing Nico to have his shirt back.
He holds the fabric to his nose and breathes in.
“You rub your pussy on this?”
“Jesus Christ,” Toby mutters. Snatching my hand, he drags me toward the front door. “Thanks for letting us crash, Brianna. Sorry about this knobhead. Can’t train pork,” he shoots over his shoulder before pulling the door open and gesturing for Nico to get the hell out.
