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“Yeah,” Paige called back, while making a face at David for her near face plant. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“You have to get rid of her,” he hissed.
The last thing she wanted was for Jules to know he was even here, so Paige was in total agreement with him. “I will.”
She looked around on the floor for her panties, then inwardly groaned at the unmistakable feel of semen leaking out and trailing down the insides of her thighs. “For God’s sake,” she muttered, grabbing the first thing she saw and using it to quickly wipe between her legs, uncaring that David was watching her.
“That’s my shirt,” he pointed out.
She paused to look, and when she saw that it was, indeed, the polo shirt he’d been wearing the night before, Paige shrugged and continued to wipe down her inner thighs with it. Since he was the reason she was dripping like a leaky faucet, it seemed sort of fitting, but she prided herself on being a nice person, so when she was done, she tossed it on top of her hamper and made a mental note to wash it before he went home.
David must have thought she was dawdling because he waved his hands in the universal Hurry up motion. She pulled on her panties, followed by the terry cloth robe Sputnik had been laying on (and who protested when he got picked up and set on the ground), then headed toward the door. As she passed the full-length mirror that leaned against the wall and stopped in shock at how rough she looked, he almost yelled, “You don’t have time for that. You need to go before she comes looking for you.”
She gave him a hard look, because it wasn’t fair that he got to stay in here and hide. “I can’t go out there like this.”
“You have to. Now, go.”
“You know what? I don’t like you very much right now.”
David jabbed a finger in the direction of the kitchen, where the sounds of the toaster being used could be heard. “Jules is the problem here, not me. So get rid of the problem and then come back to bed,” he said, before adding, “Oh, and bring me some of whatever she brought for you guys to eat. I’m starving.”
Reluctantly, Paige shuffled down the hallway with Sputnik on her heels. At the doorway to the kitchen, she paused and took a deep breath before stepping into the brightly lit space to find Jules at the island, in the process of spreading cream cheese on a freshly toasted bagel. A large container of strawberries and a small container of strawberry flavored whipped cream had been set out, along with plates and silverware. There were also two go-cups from Starbucks, one with Paige’s name on it and a sticker that labeled the contents as a caramel macchiato with whole milk. Seeing the effort that had been put into their breakfast, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty—Jules was doing a good job here, but Paige was determined to get rid of her friend as soon as possible.
“This is a surprise,” Paige said to Jules’s back, as she picked up her coffee and took a drink.
“It was an impulse,” Jules explained. Then, with a nod toward the strawberry whipped cream, she added, “I got that awful pink shit you like to dip your fruit in.”
“It’s not pink shit, it’s pink fluff,” Paige corrected her, grabbing a strawberry and dipping it in the whipped cream, before popping it in her mouth. “And it’s delicious, which you would know if you ever quit passing judgment on it long enough to try it.”
Jules glanced over to roll her eyes at Paige, but stopped as she took in Paige’s disheveled appearance and frowned, instead. “Why do you look like you’ve just had sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex?”
Paige almost spit out the strawberry. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you look like you just had sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex, obviously. Why else would I ask?”
“Um … I don’t know.”
“Well, did you?”
“No.” Paige tried to smooth her hair a little bit. “This is just what I look like first thing in the morning.”
“Wrong. You’ve never looked like this first thing in the morning—and I’ve known you for like a hundred years.”
Paige gave a dismissive shrug. “Whatever. Can we please talk about something else?”
“Sure. After you answer my question ... without lying to me this time. Did you, or did you not just have sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex?”
“Yes!” David yelled from the bedroom. “She just had sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex!”
Chapter 35
David’s words seemed to echo for a millennium before finally dying away, leaving an uncomfortable silence hanging over the kitchen.
In utter disbelief that David had made himself known, and in such spectacular fashion, Paige picked up the top half of a bagel and took a bite. “Cinnamon raison bagels are my favorite. Thank you for—”
