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Lennon laughed as she accepted the shirt and slid her arms into the sleeves. As it engulfed her thin frame, I remembered it had been tailored to fit me. The difference in size made me feel big, strong even, and that was something I hadn't felt in a long time.
It was nice.
“It's okay,” she said as she secured a few of the buttons. “Honestly, I really wasn't until just now.”
“I'm kind of a dick, if you haven’t noticed already,” I felt the need to say, dropping my gaze from her to the floor.
“Ah, come on,” she replied, coming around the coffee table to flop beside me on the couch. “I've known way bigger dicks than you.”
Cocking my head, I squinted toward the chandelier. “Was that a compliment or an insult? Hmm … I just don't know …” I glanced at her through the corner of my eye and pulled a half-smile when she rolled her eyes and grinned.
“Oh, you can take it however—”
The door to my room flew open, and in walked Simon in his white shirt, untucked, and black slacks and socks, with his eyes glued to his phone. “Yo, man, you okay in here? I've been—oh. Shit, I'm … fuck, I’m sorry,” he stammered the moment he realized I had company. He diverted his gaze from Lennon to look in the direction of the garbage can instead. “I didn't know you were—whoa, man, wait a sec. You got Shake Shack? And you didn't say anything?”
Glancing at Lennon, who was now attempting to pull my shirt over her knees, I cleared my throat and looked back to my idiotic, oblivious friend.
“Simon, I'll talk to you later, okay?”
“I’m just saying, I would’ve jumped in on that. The sushi I ate upstairs was kinda—”
“Si. Man.”
“Oh. Right. Yeah, sure,” he replied, nodding. Then, as his eyes swept over Lennon once more, his brows pinched with sudden recognition. “Hey, wait. You're that chick who came in with Tarryn King, right?”
“Uh, yeah …” She smiled awkwardly and dodged her eyes in my direction momentarily, as if searching for backup.
“Nice,” he said, grinning. “I'm Simon, by the way. Dylan's pal.”
“Yeah, I know,” she replied, only relaxing slightly. “It's nice to meet you.”
“Hey, you too. I—”
“Dude,” I cut him off, leveling him with my stony glare. “Come on.”
Simon turned to me, a blank look on his face before his mouth dropped open. “Ohh, right. Okay, yeah,” he said, finally catching my drift. “I'll leave you crazy kids alone. But, uh, D, if you need anything, man, you know where to find me, okay? Well, I mean, notanything, but you know—”
“I got it,” I gritted out.
“Cool, cool.”
Then, the lovable motherfucker had the balls to meet my eye, waggle his brows, and shoot me a thumbs-up and a wink before turning around and scurrying out of the room.
“Fuckin' dick,” I grumbled, shaking my head as the door closed behind him.
“What?”
I turned to Lennon, saw the clueless expression on her face, and was grateful for it. I never pretended to be a good guy, but I had more respect than to make a gesture like Simon’s in the presence of my bandmates' conquests.
Granted, it had been a long time since I'd brought a woman back to my room, and I knew he had only been cheering me on in his own moronic way, but come on.
“Nothing,” I said while making a mental note to kick Simon's ass later.
She yawned then, stretching her arms overhead and pointing her toes, reminding me of a cat basking in the afternoon sun. I reached out to brush a strand of hair behind her ear, and she leaned into my touch, nuzzling my palm with eyes closed and lips curved in a sleepy smile.
“God, I'm tired,” she said before taking my hand from her cheek. She stood and lured me with a crook of her finger. “Come.”
Using the arm of the couch for leverage, I stood and allowed her to take me to bed. She climbed in first, crawled to the other side, and stood on her knees. Nubile and breathtaking, wearing nothing but my shirt, she commanded me to follow. I remembered a time when I probably would've torn my pants off and jumped right in after her. I wouldn't have thought twice other than to consider that I never invited women for sleepovers in the first place.
