I smile, looking down at him. "I thought I would have to beg for it—"
BANG. The front door.
"What the fuck?!"
Lorenzo.
Our eyes snap to each other. Panic.
Gio drops the towel, scrambles for his pants.
"Fuckfuckfuck—" He shuts the bathroom door, locks it.
"Don't move."
"What the hell are you two lovebirds doing in there?!"
Lorenzo's voice is slurred, loud. "Is someone fucking in our cute little bathroom?!"
I panic. "NO, UH, HE SAID HE NEEDED A SECOND OPINION ON THE COLOR OF HIS TOOTHBRUSH," I shout.
Silence. Dead silence.
Gio looks at me like I just punched his soul.
"What?!"
"I panicked!" I burst out laughing.
He covers my mouth with his palm. I grab his wrist, and I kiss him quickly. His mouth opens into it.
"Idiot," he mutters. But he's smiling. He grabs my face and kisses me deeper.
I melt into it. Absolutely melt.
Then he pulls back. Fixes his shirt. Runs a hand through his damp hair. Rolls his neck like nothing happened.
And opens the door. Walks out like a saint.
I follow right behind Gio.
Lorenzo's eyes narrow for a second. Maybe he knows.
I smile.
Yeah, Lorenzo. I've got a secret now. A big one.
He stares. I hold eye contact for exactly 1.5 seconds before pretending to look for my phone charger. Lorenzo shrugs it off and faceplants into his pillow.
That's right. Don't ask questions. Stay in your lane, king.
He groans. "Two… Spanish girls. Or maybe four. I dunno. They had... legs. Probably."
Gio raises an eyebrow and grabs a water bottle from the nightstand, pressing it into Lorenzo's hand.
"Drink. Bathroom. Sleep," Gio says.
Lorenzo goes for a hug.
