“Feed me,” Atzi says, not looking at me.
She’s on the couch, hugging a pillow and looking relaxed. If anything, all the sex tired her out, and she might be able to sleep for another hour or so before we have to stage the house.
Against my better judgment, I’m about to suggest eating donuts and coffee. She’s going to love it since it has her favorite food groups: chocolate, bread, and caffeine.
“You know what we can eat?” I say, using my most enticing voice.
“I’m sore, Spearman.” Her voice echoes in the entire penthouse.
I chuckle, shaking my head. At least I’m not the only one thinking about sex. “Huh. So, you’re complaining about last night?”
“Not necessarily. I’m just not used to that much…”
“Fucking?”
She snorts, rolling her eyes. “Don’t be crude.”
“What do you want me to be?”
“Just be yourself.” Then she unfolds herself, kneeling on top of the couch. “Though, if you can keep some drunk Heathcliff around, I’d appreciate it.”
“What’s that?” I ask, confused.
“You know, warm and affectionate. The way you never are.” She shrugs, slumping back onto the couch.
“If you want me to do that all the time, it’s going to cost you,” I say, opening the negotiations.
“What are we talking about here? Chocolate, ice cream, American currency…”
I laugh, pulling out my phone. “Why don’t I order some coffee and donuts? While we wait, we can discuss my price.”
“You’re going to charge me for… what services are you offering?” She uses a sultry voice. This woman likes to play with fire, and though she enjoyed burning with me, I’m not sure she’ll want to do it again so soon.
Still, I humor her and don’t flirt back. “It’s an all-inclusive, love. You get all of me, including the kisses you can’t get enough of.” I wink.
She scoffs. “Says who, smooth talker?”
“So, you hate them?”
“I didn’t say that at all,” she huffs. “And how much are you going to ask for what might not be worth more than a truffle—from the factory.”
“Ouch.” I flinch. “Not even a hand-crafted chocolate, huh?”
She tilts her head, cocking her eyebrow. “What were you expecting?”
I smirk. “Sexual favors, of course.”
Her eyes and mouth open wide. She uses her index finger to close her mouth. “Who are you, and what have you done with my best friend?”
“You sound a little dramatic.”
Her smile fades. “This is going to end up in tragedy.”
“Are you regretting last night?”
She narrows her gaze, twisting her lips from one side to the other several times.
“You wound me, Lavigne.” I touch my chest, feigning hurt.
She waves her hand. “No. I told you yesterday that I have a bad feeling.”
“You did, and I thought we ironed things out overnight.”
The corner of her lip tugs slightly. “Having sex all night doesn’t equal ironing things out.”
“We said we would keep this as friends with lots of benefits,” I remind her. “Unless you regret it.”
“It’s daylight, the effect of the alcohol is gone, and my grandparents will be here tomorrow. Of course things are different, but I don’t regret it.”
“What do you need from me?”
She pouts, and it’s adorable. I walk toward her, planting a kiss on those delicious lips. “Why the meltdown, baby?”
“You’re confusing me,” she whispers.
“I just want to give you what you need”—at least for now, I don’t add—“let’s get moving. We need to exchange all your kitchen gadgets and some of your clothes.”
“We’re blurring the lines of our friendship. You can’t exist outside the lines, Spearman. Can you survive the next few days?” She’s loud but not angry.
I chuckle, shaking my head. “I think we destroyed them last night. Can I live without them? It’s easier than I thought, so don’t worry about me, okay?”
She nods. “Fine, order some yummy donuts. Afterward, I’ll get the groceries for the week.”
“Use my credit card.”
“Hey, I’m freeloading for the next few days. The least I could do is pay for the food.”
“You don’t need to.”
She points at me with her cute index finger. “Don’t go all caveman on me, Spearman. It doesn’t look good on you.”
“But I like to do it,” I tease her.
“You do, huh?”
“Of course, you’re just too bossy to allow me to do it on a regular day.” I shrug one shoulder, tilting my head. “At least let me have a little fun.”
“So it’s my fault that you can’t be yourself? Next thing I know, you’ll tell me a wife and kids might be part of your five-year plan.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“How far would you go?” she challenges me.
“With you, baby, to the end of the world.”
She claps. “You know what? If the medical thing doesn’t work, you should try acting.”
I bow. “Thank you, I’ll be here all week.”
“Let’s get moving. We might find something to cook.”
“What about the donuts?”
She looks at her wrist, pretending to look at the time. “It’s getting late, and everyone is trying to get their food delivered. We can try again another day.”
“You’re missing delicious fried dough with a layer of sugary goodness.”
She smiles. “Just the way I like them, but really, I’m fine. Today I’ll cook, since you’ll have to be the one showing his impressive fake fiancé skills when mis abuelitos arrive.”
“I’m ready for the challenge.”
Not sure if that’s true, but if there’s something I learned from her, it’s to fake it until we make it.
Chapter Twenty-Four
Heath
Atzi finds a bag of rolled oats in the pantry that she left last Christmas. It was part of the cookie party she organized with the family. The fresh fruit is courtesy of Rys, who had some berries and mangoes in her fridge. I guess it’s a blessing to have family close by. Not sure what I’m going to do when I’m in New York. I guess the same thing I do during hockey season, fend for myself.
While Atzi prepares the oatmeal, I return to Cas and Rys’s place to use their fancy coffeemaker. It has almost as many options as the Starbucks app. They even have syrups next to the travel mugs. Why didn’t I come to prepare my coffee more often?
I make my way back to my apartment, where I find Atzi scrolling her phone quietly at the breakfast bar.
“Large latte with two pumps of vanilla, extra foam for Jatzee.” I try to sound like a clueless barista at a busy coffee shop on a Saturday morning. They never give a shit about writing down the right name or pronouncing it correctly. Sometimes I’m Ethan, Ethereal, E…