Then his smashes a big wet kiss on the corner of my lip.
I squeak out a surprised noise.
“That ring should have been yours too. You know that, right? You and Dex, when you’re through—which, come on, will be sooner than later—we can finally be together.”
Another panic attack—this one steals my voice as Nate storms out of the room.
Chapter 12
It’s eleven o’clock on Monday morning and I’ve already hit my word count for the day. The Damian Miles story is practically writing itself. And, along with hundreds of never-before-seen images of the debauchery of Simply Sinister, this book promises to be a bestseller.
I just want it finished. I want Simon out of my apartment. This morning I found him hiding behind the shower curtain, naked, as I lathered myself with soap.
Last night I caught him trying to smoke the Italian seasoning mix I keep in my cabinet. He was already high. I don’t know how he could have gotten any higher. And now my place smells like the charred remains of a pizzeria.
I rub my aching fingers and lean back against my chair. Dex is at his desk, talking to someone on the phone. When he notices me looking at him, he blows me a kiss. My cheeks warm. It’s nice to see him sitting there again. It’s a relief, really, knowing he doesn’t have to go back to California any time soon and Area Code 203 is nothing to worry over.
My phone buzzes on my desk.
Lil’Cock Star: I’m board.
Jane: Bored.
Lil’ Cock Star: Gramma Nazi
Jane: Grammar.
Lil’ Cock Star: Bring home weed
Jane: No
Lil’ Cock Star: Alcohol then. Lots of Alcohol.
Jane: Maybe
Lil’ Cock Star: When are you coming home!!
Jane: ?
Lil’ Cock Star: What?
Jane: It’s only 11! Stop texting me!
Lil’ Cock Star: Your coming home with alcohol though, right?
Jane: You’re
Lil’ Cock Star: I hate you
Jane: Ditto
Lil’ Cock Star: I smoked all your special tea in my bong.
“Of coursehe did.”Ugh. Crude, arrogant piece of shit. Next he’s going to start smoking all the contents of my lingerie drawer.
“Of course who did what?” The top of Julia’s head pops over the top of our work station divider.
“Simon is texting me. Over and over. He’s bored and wants me to bring home drugs.”
