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“Which?” the monk asks
“Oh, I dunno. They’re over here. Come look.”
After a moment, I hear Mysti May giggling like a lunatic. Someone, presumably Ladyboy Celine Dion, joins her.
“I’m gonna be, like, soooo zen!” I hear Mysti say.
There’s a thump, like something falling onto the grass, followed by more giggling.
Yeah, I definitely don’t need to know.
The metal rod continues all the while, the muffled sound of it soothing to my nerves.
Lock scoots closer to me, locking his eyes onto mine.
“Are you feeling better?” he asks.
“Sure am.”
“About Eggs—” he starts.
“I’d rather not.” I interrupt him.
His new proximity to me makes my heart beat a little harder. I feel my gaze being drawn to his mouth.
That fucking mouth.
His lips twitch into a smile that tells me he’s not oblivious to my thoughts.
I’m actually glad. I don’t want him to be.
Images from the cabaret play in my head again.
That kiss.
That fucking amazing kiss.
I know I probably shouldn’t, but I feel myself leaning towards him anyway.
The monk says something in Thai, clearly displeased.
Still, he adjusts the rod accordingly, following me forward.
Lock’s eyes twinkle as he watches me, his smile growing wider.
My mouth claims his hard, desperate.
God, this Aussie fuck can kiss.
Eggs pops into my head, and I try to remember if we ever shared a kiss even remotely as good.
Nothing comes to mind.
Lock’s tongue pushes past my lips, finding my own.
All thoughts of Eggs disappear.
I moan in the back of my throat, content to finally feel his lips on me again.
