Yeah.
We're stuck.
Keep saying it like that and I swear I'll glue your face to the wall, Fontana.
You're being such a bitch about this.
Gio
Lorenzo's bouncing on the mattress like a fucking kid.
"So, what's the plan, gentlemen?" he grins.
"Pool? Drinks? Conquer the town?"
I shrug, leaning back on my hands. "Don't know about you," I mutter, "but I'm gonna crash."
I feel Rava's head snap toward me before I even see it.
He's judging me with his eyes. "Wow," he says, sarcastically. "Real tough guy. Comes all the way to Spain just to nap like a seventy-year-old."
I turn my head slowly, meeting his eyes.
I like that. I like that he doesn't baby me.
He gets pissed at me.
He talks back.
He rolls his eyes.
He has the guts to call me out, to talk to me with zero respect when he thinks I deserve it.
Maybe I have a problem, but I kind of love that.
Everyone else either fears me, wants something from me, or shuts their mouth. I want to hit back. I want to grab him.
I want to ruin him with my dick.
But of course not. I just sit there, pretending I don't want to destroy him just to have a reason to touch him. I just smile.
Lorenzo laughs, throwing his arms behind his head.
"Yeah, Gio. Lighten the fuck up. We're in Spain, man, not a nursing home."
He pushes up off the mattress and stretches with a loud groan.
"Alright, you boring assholes. I'm hitting the pool," he says, heading toward the bathroom.
"See if you can figure your shit out while I'm gone."
The bathroom door closes.
Now it's just me and Rava. He looks pissed.
Annoyed with the room.
Annoyed with the bed situation.
