“Oh, for fuck’s sake, you’re both. Wear that red flag like a cape, my friend. If she had a problem with it, you would know. She’d say something or do something. Maybe hand you your own balls.” He tilts his head thoughtfully.
“I don’t doubt it.” My girl is fierce.
Fuck. Did it again.
He stands and tosses both towels in the hamper. “You got time to come look over some more shit?” There’s no proof the attack behind the theater wasn’t random, but Parker and I aren’t convinced.
“Yeah. We probably have at least an hour before Ariana even crawls out of bed.”
“You get the goofiest grin on your face when you talk about her. Or think about her. It’s cute.” He claps me on the back and heads for the bathroom, where he usually takes a shower after our workouts. “She gets that same goofy grin about you.”
A few hours later, I’m almost wondering if Ariana actually hates my guts. Almost. She and Lil drag me all over the goddamn mall or whatever the fuck this place is. A shopping center on an indoor river? Jesus. Fucking. Christ. They spend thirty minutes smelling candles while drinking iced coffees. Another thirty minutes is spent smelling body washes and sprays and lotions. They leave each store with at least one big bag full of stuff.
I spend an hour averting my eyes while they shop for bras, panties, and little lacy things, and I honestly have no idea what the fuck is in the four bags they saunter out with because if I focused for even a second on Ariana in that fucking store I was going to get thrown out of the place for having a raging hard on. Then they move on to shoes. Not just shoes, but stilettos. Ariana looks over her shoulder at me, a bratty but promising smile on her face. Fucking minx. There’s no way she’s not doing this shit on purpose.
It takes every ounce of willpower I possess to keep my dick in check all day long. It’s hard enough to keep my focus on our surroundings instead of in my pants under normal circumstances. Throw in lingerie and heels, and it’s game over.
I can’t even relax when we step outside. Something feels off. Tourists are everywhere. Everyone has their phones out, taking pictures. I don’t like it. But as much as I would love it if Ariana stayed home where she’s safe, she’s got a wild spirit. I love that about her, but it scares the fuck out of me.
Blinking in the darkness, I stay silent as I try to identify what woke me but hear nothing. I grab my phone and groan when I see it’s after two in the morning. The water bottle on my nightstand is empty, so I roll out of bed and head down to the kitchen.
I hear Ariana a split second before I see her. “Fuck, it’s cold in here.”
“You probably wouldn’t be so cold if you were wearing pants,” Lil sing-songs.
Shit, if only she had said that five seconds sooner… But no, I just had to turn the corner at that moment and see that Ariana is, in fact, not wearing pants, and her boy short panties are cut high enough that they show the perfectness that is the bottom of her plump ass cheeks. I held those ass cheeks in my hands just over twenty-four hours ago and was hoping to do so again tonight, but we never got enough time alone to do more than share a quick kiss.
She shrugs and says, “I sort of forgot pants exist for a minute. You know the thought of frozen pizza makes me lose all focus.”
“That’s true of a lot of things.”
I bite back a chuckle, then groan as Ariana bends over to put a frozen pizza in one of the ovens. There’s four ovens. Couldn’t she have used a higher one?
Intending to return to my room, I back up around the corner but freeze when I hear Lil ask, “Same nightmare?”
Ariana sighs. “Same nightmare.”
“Sometimes I’m surprised you never have any other bad dreams. Like the shed or sniper stuff.”
“That shit doesn’t haunt me, Lil. Nothing else haunts me. Only that one night, that one memory that my fucking braindecides to relive sometimes while I’m asleep and at my most vulnerable.” Ariana pauses and takes a deep breath. “The pain, the fear… it all comes back. And while that trauma therapy helped, it can’t make the nightmares go away completely. I’m supposed to be thankful they only come around once in a while. And I am, I really am, because I remember when they happened every fucking night, and you all had to take turns sitting up holding me while I cried for months.”
My heart clenches, and I barely contain the anguished groan that tries to leave my mouth. I lean against the wall, my head tilted back, and look up at the ceiling, but I’m not seeing it through the mist that covers my eyes.
“But I would be a lot more thankful if I never had to relive that night again.” Her tone is sad. Bitter.
“I would be, too, Ari,” Lil says softly. By the soft shuffling sounds they make, I’m pretty sure they’re hugging. And while I’m ridiculously jealous becauseI’mnot the one hugging Ariana, I’m glad someone is. Glad she has Lil.
They’re both silent for a minute before Lil asks, “Do you think Dad’s told Luca about it yet?”
“You mean about the second worst night of my life? No, probably not. Luca doesn’t look at me like I’m broken yet.” Ariana’s voice turns weary.
“He’s not going to look at you like… Wait, what the hell do you mean, the second worst night?”
“Well, it had the top spot until you made me watch that terrible superhero movie. Anything with both BatmanandSuperman should be good. That thing that was not good.”
Lil chuckles. “Only you could get me to laugh in the middle of this fucking heavy-ass conversation.”
I think I’m having a heart attack. What the fuck are they talking about? I clench my hands into fists, fighting the urge to rub one on my chest.
