not what I wanted tonight or pretty much ever with her. I was a classic ‘argue and fuck’ kind of guy. I got heated and passionate during verbal slanging matches with beautiful women I was attracted to, and it always led to being hard and naked.
I didn’t like the idea of fighting with Lori Walker.
She sat next to me on the couch, hooking her legs over my lap. “You know I’m always here if you need to.”
“Yeah.” I stared at her legs, which were wrapped up in pajama pants printed with Marvel superhero comic strips, and tried to pinpoint the moment we’d become familiar enough to touch like this. I couldn’t, but I liked that we could without it meaning more than it should…even though I felt things were beginning to change.
“Food’s getting cold,” I muttered.
“We’ve got a microwave.”
“Lori.”
“You keep questioning me about the asshole who shall not be named,” she complained.
“So I’m a hypocrite now?”
Her lips quirked as she stifled the urge to smile. “Pretty much.”
Rubbing my hand over her knee, I said, “Takes one to know one.”
The gesture was meant to be casual, but her expression dropped like I’d pushed a little too far. If it were a perfect world, I would’ve pushed a lot further. Her leg was warm, her breast had been pressing against my bicep, and of course, I’d thought about touching a little closer to the sweet spot. Her superhero pajama bottoms didn’t turn me off in the slightest.
“Lori, I’m going!”
Bel’s voice tore us apart, and Lori pulled her legs back, severing our connection.
“Okay!” she yelled back. “Be safe!”
The door slammed, and suddenly, we were alone. The room began to feel really small, the air heavy with all the blurry line shit going on. Like she was trying to busy herself with something else, Lori began pulling the takeout containers from the plastic bag.
I’d stopped at her favorite Chinese takeout on the way over and got all the things she liked the most. Fried rice, combination noodles, prawn crackers…and for me, steamed vegetables and chicken because I couldn’t afford to drink beer and eat fatty food three nights a week.
Picking up my dinner, she handed it to me. “This one’s yours. Bland and unappetizing.”
Relieved the air had cleared a fraction, I said, “You don’t get a body like this by just liftin’ weights.”
She eyed me and said, “I bet you don’t.”
“You picturin’ it?”
Stifling a smile, she rolled her pretty eyes. “You wish.”
We ate in silence for a while, the whoosh of cars flying past outside echoing through the little house. Setting down my container, I watched her eat and wrinkled my nose.
“You eat like a man,” I declared.
“Am I meant to be offended by that?” she asked, a noodle stuck to her bottom lip.
“Depends on how delicate you are.” Reaching over, I wiped my thumb across her lip, dislodging the noodle. Of course, I began thinking about her mouth and what I could do to it. Her eyes widened slightly as I let my touch linger a little longer than was appropriate, and my gaze dropped.
She cleared her throat abruptly and pulled away, placing the takeout box onto the coffee table.
“So you’ve never told me when you moved to Australia,” she began. “Why would you want to live here when Ireland is so pretty?”
The temperature in my groin began to cool at the change of subject, and I nodded. “It’s pretty, that’s for sure.”
“Have you been back?”
“Not in a long time,” I replied. “We came over to Australia when I was five. Me, my ma, and Da. Da worked in the mines back home, and he got a job workin’ in one of those opencut mines in Western Australia.”
“Really?” she asked. “In the outback?”
“Yeah, I was too little to remember much of Ireland, but I do remember red dust. It gets into everythin’. In the summer, it was too hot to go outside, and the road would melt. I remember one day I’d been out pokin’ sticks into
I didn’t like the idea of fighting with Lori Walker.
She sat next to me on the couch, hooking her legs over my lap. “You know I’m always here if you need to.”
“Yeah.” I stared at her legs, which were wrapped up in pajama pants printed with Marvel superhero comic strips, and tried to pinpoint the moment we’d become familiar enough to touch like this. I couldn’t, but I liked that we could without it meaning more than it should…even though I felt things were beginning to change.
“Food’s getting cold,” I muttered.
“We’ve got a microwave.”
“Lori.”
“You keep questioning me about the asshole who shall not be named,” she complained.
“So I’m a hypocrite now?”
Her lips quirked as she stifled the urge to smile. “Pretty much.”
Rubbing my hand over her knee, I said, “Takes one to know one.”
The gesture was meant to be casual, but her expression dropped like I’d pushed a little too far. If it were a perfect world, I would’ve pushed a lot further. Her leg was warm, her breast had been pressing against my bicep, and of course, I’d thought about touching a little closer to the sweet spot. Her superhero pajama bottoms didn’t turn me off in the slightest.
“Lori, I’m going!”
Bel’s voice tore us apart, and Lori pulled her legs back, severing our connection.
“Okay!” she yelled back. “Be safe!”
The door slammed, and suddenly, we were alone. The room began to feel really small, the air heavy with all the blurry line shit going on. Like she was trying to busy herself with something else, Lori began pulling the takeout containers from the plastic bag.
I’d stopped at her favorite Chinese takeout on the way over and got all the things she liked the most. Fried rice, combination noodles, prawn crackers…and for me, steamed vegetables and chicken because I couldn’t afford to drink beer and eat fatty food three nights a week.
Picking up my dinner, she handed it to me. “This one’s yours. Bland and unappetizing.”
Relieved the air had cleared a fraction, I said, “You don’t get a body like this by just liftin’ weights.”
She eyed me and said, “I bet you don’t.”
“You picturin’ it?”
Stifling a smile, she rolled her pretty eyes. “You wish.”
We ate in silence for a while, the whoosh of cars flying past outside echoing through the little house. Setting down my container, I watched her eat and wrinkled my nose.
“You eat like a man,” I declared.
“Am I meant to be offended by that?” she asked, a noodle stuck to her bottom lip.
“Depends on how delicate you are.” Reaching over, I wiped my thumb across her lip, dislodging the noodle. Of course, I began thinking about her mouth and what I could do to it. Her eyes widened slightly as I let my touch linger a little longer than was appropriate, and my gaze dropped.
She cleared her throat abruptly and pulled away, placing the takeout box onto the coffee table.
“So you’ve never told me when you moved to Australia,” she began. “Why would you want to live here when Ireland is so pretty?”
The temperature in my groin began to cool at the change of subject, and I nodded. “It’s pretty, that’s for sure.”
“Have you been back?”
“Not in a long time,” I replied. “We came over to Australia when I was five. Me, my ma, and Da. Da worked in the mines back home, and he got a job workin’ in one of those opencut mines in Western Australia.”
“Really?” she asked. “In the outback?”
“Yeah, I was too little to remember much of Ireland, but I do remember red dust. It gets into everythin’. In the summer, it was too hot to go outside, and the road would melt. I remember one day I’d been out pokin’ sticks into
Similar Books
