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“I love you,” I said, brushing my nose against his.
A low hum rumbled inside his chest. “Can we talk more about this later? The only thing I can think about right now is how much I want to make love to you.”
I smiled against his lips and nodded. “Funny, I was just thinking the same thing.”
“Well then, let’s not waste any more time.”
He took my champagne glass out of my hand and set it on the coffee table. Slowly, he climbed to hover over me on the couch.
He didn’t bother carrying me to the bedroom. We were done waiting.
* * *
“Christ, this place fucking reeks of you two,” Travis griped when we entered the house the next evening. He covered his nose, and Lana smirked. “How do you guys even handle this elevated sense of smell? I walked by a dumpster and almost vomited, and now I feel like I’m a teenager again and just opened Cole’s secret stash of spunk socks in his dresser.”
“Could we maybe not talk about that in front of my mate?” Cole asked.
“Masturbation is normal, dude,” Travis said.
“Hoarding jizz-covered socks is not,” Lana pointed out.
“I wasn’t hoarding them, I was hiding them,” Cole said, cringing as he caught my eye. “Seriously, can we change the subject?”
“So, your senses are heightening?” I asked Travis, trying to help. I wasn’t particularly bothered by the line of conversation. After all, I had an older brother and my own gross anecdotes from when he started puberty. “That’s pretty exciting.”
“It’s super weird, is what it is. There are all of these foods I used to love to eat, but I can’t stand them now,” Travis said.
“He’s tried to throw away about half the food in my apartment, telling me it’s gone bad,” Lana said with a little chuckle. “He’s been horrified to find out what food actually smells like.”
“Really?” I asked. “Like what?”
“Like meat,” he said. “Dude, raw beef smells absolutely fucking disgusting.”
“I told you to stop buying those frozen steaks at the market,” Cole chided. “It’s way better to buy it fresh or get the grass-fed stuff.”
“Yeah, I know you have,” Travis said, sounding a little exasperated. “I just also thought that you were being a snobby prick.”
I laughed and shook my head. Cole’s fridge was always well-stocked, so I’d never given much thought to where he got his food, but it was fascinating to hear about this side to something as mundane as groceries. It was something I’d never really thought about.
“He’s trying to distract himself from his nerves about the third injection,” Lana explained.
“Which was working pretty well before you brought it up,” Travis grumbled. “But seriously, guys, if you’re going to fuck, can you keep it to the bedroom? This is technically my place of work.”
“Oh, we used the bedroom,” Cole said with a grin. “And the living room. And the bathroom. And the—”
“If you say guest room, I’m going to piss in your fucking cereal,” Travis said.
“Actually, I was going to say the pantry,” Cole said.
“He’s kidding,” I said, giving Cole a pointed look.
“So, you guys didn’t christen the entire house? Good,” Travis said, sounding relieved.
My face flamed. “Uh, well...”
“She means that I was joking about the pantry,” Cole said, grinning.
“Oh, fucking Christ,” Travis groaned as he stomped down the hall. “I’m getting the bleach.”
