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Thehotelcoffeeissubpar at best, almost burnt tasting when I leave the mug on the warmer for more than the five minutes it takes the single cup to fucking finish percolating.
“They’re finally on their way,” Aria says from her spot on the bed, where I left her. She hasn’t moved since I came into the bathroom to start getting ready with a promise that breakfast be delivered soon.
“They better bring good coffee. This shit is gross.”
“I told you to wait.”
Rolling my eyes and dumping the brew straight down the sink with a scoff, I start applying my mascara when a knock at the door has me peeking out to watch my best friend trying to scoot her ass across the bed and the door opening despite the lack of invitation.
Rex is the first one through, simply because he muscles his muscle aside, and I dip back in the bathroom when he and Aria lock lips in the middle of the room like no one else is around.
I love her. And I love that she’s happy.
But ew.
Swiping the black shit onto my lashes, to match the smokey black stuff that makes my blue eyes pop, I shove the applicator back into the tube and toss everything back in my little bag.
“Jesus, can you two get a different fucking room?”
The booming voice has me freezing with my hands against the collar of my veryrevealing, mostly sheer, top that I brought in hopes of drawing more customers. Swallowing hard, I look down at the handmade piece courtesy of my best friend’s handiwork; this thing only covers my nips with black embroidered snakes that disappear down my torso and into the high waist of my black cutoffs. The rest of the top practically matches my skin in a way that makes it disappear aside from the snakes, the dark hemming around the armholes, and the high neck. It’s lightweight for the unbearable heat with a side of sexy that shows off the ink I worked hard to get.
I’m not wearing a bra. My thighs are covered in fishnets. And my lips are so deep a red that there’s no way I can walk out there in front of him without feeling naked.
Shit.
I snag a hotel robe from the back of the bathroom door to cover up, even though I have every intention of wearing this out in public, and wrap myself up in the terrycloth.
It’s different when your bestie has had a chance to hype you up first. Which is exactly what I was going for before the texts came through that Rex was on his way with food.
“Seriously, bro.” Fin’s broad back is to me when I emerge from the bathroom and I am smacked with the scent of food and man that makes my stomach demanding and crampy. “I’m all for porn, but not by people I know.”
“No shit.” I fake a gag at the couple who get a little too handsy and walk around the group to the food. I allow it to take up more of my focus than the man I’d like to get my hands on just as much as Aria does with hers. “Fucking gross.”
“Shit—“It’s silent, said under Fin’s breath, but I don’t miss it. Even with my back to him and the tingles that threaten to undo my concentration on filling the plate in my trembling hands, I hear the surprise in his voice.
“You got her all night,” Rex complains when he finally comes up for air.
“Yeah …,” I drag out the word, ignoring the heat I feel at my back. “Not to make out, though.”
“Better fucking not,” he says as Aria’s squeal echoes through the room when Rex swoops in and hauls her up until she’s half wrapped around him, half falling onto the bed.
I spin on my heels, avoiding the way I have to sidestep a way-too-quiet Fin and thrust the plate in my bestie’s hands before they land in places on her rockstar lover that I’d rather not see now that he’s hers. “You’re going to make those babies pop out if you keep doing that.” Once my hands are free, I land a solid smack on Rex’s bicep, and only chuckle when the rock god practically yelps.
“Would you please stop telling the universe that I need two of them. Please.”
“Damn, C.” Rex lets Aria slide the rest of the way down his body as she chuckles and eyes the plate in her hands, careful not to spill any of it while her man’s furrowed brow lands on me with a glint of humor in his eyes. “I thought the guys were fucking bad.”
“She’s worse,” Aria jabs, her mouth already full of her breakfast, her fork tines pointed in my direction as she chews. “So much worse.”
Snorting, I shake my head and turn back to the array of shit placed out on the desk and pick up a hashbrown for myself. One of the good ones, where it’s almost the size of a piece of bread and perfectly golden brown with just a bit of crisp still clinging on despite the trip from the restaurant to here. I tear off a piece, even when I really want to just tear into the thing, and place the bite between my lips to avoid messing up the still setting lipstick.
The buttery potato goodness almost makes up for the hole that’s being stared into the side of my head with each bite. Almost.But I nearly groan anyway and pop another tiny bite between my lips.
I wasn’t expecting to eat for an audience.
“You would think that someone like you would know how fucking rude it is to stare.” I cut my sight over to Fin, whose features are sharpened, his chest engorged, and I can’t help the way my eyes harden and my pulse quickens at the sight of him.
“What the fuck are you doing?” Only his eyes move when his attention darts to the torn up hashbrown in my hands, then back to my face. “You afraid someone’s going to see you eat the damn thing?”
