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Cool. Another fucking word I don’t know the meaning of.
“Whatever,” I mumble. “Let’s get this over with so I can make the damn call already.”
A faint smirk ghosts his face as he wraps his hand around my neck, pulling me into him. His eyes dip down to my mouth as his pink, pierced tongue glides across his full, red lips before his gaze connects with mine again. My heart hammers behind my breastbone, blood roaring in my ears as his lips press down on mine.
Mint toothpaste with a shadow of sweet, earthy marijuana comes to life when his tongue slips past my parted lips, dipping into my mouth and licking all over. A moan falls from me without my permission, the sound causing him to growl into my mouth as his fingers tighten ever so slightly on either side of my esophagus. The feel of the ring through his tongue as it tangles with mine causes my body to warm all over from the memory of that same barbell dragging along the underside of my cock.
The kiss lasts less than a minute, but when we pull apart, my head feels light and woozy. I don’t understand how he affects me so much. It’s maddening.
Handing me the phone, he smirks. “See, was that so hard?”
“Yes,” I huff, walking away as I look up a locksmith. It rings a few times, and much to my surprise, they answer.
“Jefferson Locksmith. How can I help you?”
I have to force myself to not jump with excitement. “Yes, hi. I’m locked out of my apartment. I live on 35th and Freely. Are you able to get out this way and help me?”
“I can send someone out, but it’ll be at least an hour till they can get there. What’s the address and your phone number?”
“It’s 3542 Freely Place, and 555-435-7640.”
“Alri—”
“Oh, wait!” I cut him off, realizing I gave him my phone number, which I don’t have. Turning to face Mateo, I ask him, “What’s your phone number to give to this guy?”
Not even looking up from what he’s doing, he says, “555-230-6557.”
Repeating it back to the guy, he assures me someone will be out within the next hour to hour and a half. The relief I feel hanging up that phone is insane. I can’t wait to be back in my own house, and away from Mateo and his devil dick.
Speaking of Satan, as soon as I lock his phone, he’s strolling over to me with a plate full of burritos that smell divine and a giant glass of ice water. “Eat up.” Shoving it into my chest, he walks back to the bar to dive into his own.
We eat in silence, the only noise coming from the speaker currently playing Vertebrae by Allistair and Spencer Kane—one of my favorite songs. Which further annoys me.
After we finish, he takes my plate and loads everything into his dishwasher. The air’s tense, but I think it’s just me being awkward. Once he’s done, he sits in the chair across from the couch I’m sitting on. His house is decorated nicely, which, for some reason, surprises me.
He clears his throat, elbow resting on the chair, chin propped in his hand. “I didn’t know he had a boyfriend.”
That’s all he says. He doesn’t elaborate, but he doesn’t need to. He’s talking about Nathaniel.
“Why would I believe you?”
“Because I have no reason to lie to you,” he says, so matter of fact. “What would I gain from lying to you?”
I roll my eyes. “I don’t know. You think you might have a chance to sleep with me.”
“I already slept with you,” he deadpans. And he’s absolutely right.
My cheeks flame with embarrassment. “Why are you telling me this?”
“I’ve been cheated on before. I know how it feels. So, I don’t know. Just wanted you to know that I didn’t know you existed until you walked in.”
“Whatever. It doesn’t change anything. It’s done.”
He’s silent for a moment, and I let out a sigh of relief that the conversation is over… until he opens his mouth again. “So, what do you do for work?”
“What the hell? Are we on a fucking date now? What’s with the questions?”
He holds his hands up. “I’m just trying to pass the time. Relax. It’s a simple question.”
