Reckless (11 page)

Romeo, Christos, and I all erupted with laughter.

Thankfully, everyone drifted off to sleep not long after.

SAMANTHA

Kamiko was disastrously hung over the next morning.

We had to practically drag her out of the apartment to get brunch. The four of us drove to my favorite breakfast place, The Broken Yolk Café in Pacific Beach.

We parked on the street and had to walk a couple of blocks to get there. I couldn’t believe San Diego was having a heat wave in January. And by heat wave, I mean it was like, sixty-eight degrees. The weather was absolutely perfect.

Kamiko trudged far behind, head hanging between her shoulders. She wore a pair of movie-star glasses that I’d loaned her to block out the sun, and her rumpled dress from last night.

“Poor thing,” Romeo said compassionately. “She looks like she’s been run over by a garbage truck. I gave her two glasses of water at some point during the night, but I don’t think it made much difference.”

“Somebody carry me,” Kamiko begged. “I’m not going to make it.”

It was one more block to the Broken Yolk, but we all stopped to wait for her. Kamiko’s response, rather than hurrying up, was to sit down on a bus bench. “I’ll meet you guys there, but I’m taking the bus.” She laid down on the bench with her head hanging over the side of the armrest.

“I’ll get her,” Christos said. He literally picked Kamiko up and put her on his shoulders like a little kid.

“Hey! Goliath!” Kamiko groaned. “You better not drop me!”

Romeo and I both chuckled.

When the four of us made it through the café doors, Christos set Kamiko down on one of the padded benches in a sitting position. She immediately fell over onto the cushions and curled into a ball.

The line inside wasn’t too bad, but there was a short wait. Christos gave his name to the hostess, who was none other than Skylar, the girl who’d chatted Christos up at the Student Center the first day of classes last quarter. I vaguely remembered her saying something to Christos about some club named Onyx downtown, kitchen-table sex after, and her unbridled whorish desire for more furniture sex with my boyfriend.

Well, to be fair, Christos wasn’t my boyfriend at the time. I was still calling him Adonis at that point. But still, wasn’t my current BF-GF status with Christos retroactive? Which made the way Skylar was ogling him right now totally inappropriate?

And why was it that practically everywhere we went, we ran into some hot hobot who’d slept with my boyfriend?!

“Hey, Adonis,” Skylar said flirtatiously, thrusting her inflatable pool toys out at him scandalously. Based on the way they strained at her shirt, I’m pretty sure she’d had them pumped up another 40 P.S.I. since the last time I’d seen her.

Christos smiled at her casually, “What up, Skylar.”

Was he smiling too much, or was that an appropriate amount? I wanted to consult my Guidebook to Proper Ex-etiquette, but I’d left it at home.

Skylar bounced around the hostess podium, arms wide for a hug, leading with her buddy-bumpers. For an agonizing moment, elongated beyond reasonable proportion, I worried what kind of hug Christos would give. Would it be full-frontal? As in, pelvis to pelvis? Or a one-armed side-hug with hips at least twelve inches apart? Or would he spin and dodge out of her reach like a respectful boyfriend, and merely shake hands?

Moment of truth.

Christos leaned sideways toward her, clearly intending to give her the one-armed hug with a full twenty inches of lower-torso clearance. He even had the appropriately indulgent half-smile straining his face.

Skylar was undeterred. She thrust forward with her hips, limboing under Christos’ arm, determined to hump him like a puppy. Her body tilted so far back, Christos had no option but to catch her before she fell to the ground.

“Whoa, careful!” he said, concern on his face. She hung in one of his muscular arms. “You okay?”

“I am now,” she smiled, eyes glassy with desire, her luxurious auburn hair draping over his arms like a hair-care commercial. She looped her arms around the back of his neck like some kind of choreographed Tango dance pose.

That bitch! She was master of feminine wiles. Not to worry, I had a few ninja skills of my own. I grit my teeth, ready to pounce and tear some hair out.

Before I could attack, Christos stood Skylar up and bodily set her down two feet away, then shifted his body language away from her while folding his arms protectively across his chest.

I could deal with that. His body language was clear. I retracted my poison-tipped ninja claws back into my fingers and tried to breathe evenly while my adrenalin wore off.

“Be careful, you almost cracked your head open,” Christos said to Skylar.

“Oh, it’s my heels,” she giggled. “I’m always tripping on them. Clumsy me.”

Tee-hee
, you bitch. I was ready to trip my heels all over her face. Too bad I was wearing flats. I took a deep breath. Was I being jealous? It seemed highly unlikely, but there was a minuscule possibility. I tried reasoning with myself.

Christos had already proven himself to be the most devoted man I’d ever known. He’d done numerous crazy-stupid things to hold onto me. Why would he suddenly throw that all away for some random girl he’d had,
ahem
, table sex with, and if I recall, barely remembered banging?

Okay, that thought just derailed my happy train and crashed it into a kitten farm, killing everyone on board and all the kittens frolicking in the fields.

My panic level skyrocketed out of control. Did somebody have a bottle of Xanax? Or a case? Or a truckload? Screw it. Somebody call FEMA. I was about to have a natural disaster. Rev up those rescue helicopters, boys. I needed to be flown out of here.

“Skylar, you remember my girlfriend Samantha?” Christos said while wrapping his arm possessively around my waist.

Cancel emergency. Phew.

“Not really,” Skylar said, flustered.

“Skylar, Samantha. Samantha, Skylar,” Christos said.

Were we supposed to shake? I hoped not. I gave Skylar a little wave. She made a cat-pee face. Served her right. Not that she was a bitch or anything.
 

“Yeah, me and Samantha are totally in love,” Christos said, gazing into my eyes.

Out of the corner of my eye, I could tell Skylar was now making a cat-poop face. It looked just right on her.

While I wrapped my arms around Christos’ waist and swooned into his side, Skylar returned to her podium and asked Christos blandly, “How many are in your party?”

“Four,” Christos said, his confident dimpled smile having returned.

“Your table should be ready in about fifteen or twenty minutes,” Skylar said while jotting down the information. “Next!”

With his hand on the small of my back, Christos led me through the growing crowd in the lobby to where Romeo sat next to Kamiko, who was still curled into a ball on the cushioned bench.

I was smiling over the fact that Christos had so decisively referred to me as his girlfriend in front of Skylar. I gazed up at him and fell into the intense desire pouring out of his sapphire eyes. He lowered his lashes and his dimples deepened as he smiled at me. “Have I told you how unbelievably gorgeous you are today?”

“Um, not since my apartment?” I giggled.

“Are you serious? That was like thirty minutes ago,” Christos said, feigning shock. “I must be the worst boyfriend ever. We’ll have to work on that,” he smirked.
 

I wondered what that meant. I saw the wheels turning behind his eyes as he worked over some mysterious thought in his head. My heart suddenly fluttered.

“Samantha,” he said softly, “to me, your beauty is the most treasured gift Mother Nature has ever given. Like the petals of a rose, your face reminds all mankind that in a harsh world, impossible beauty is still possible. To gaze upon you is a blessing to all men, but I am the luckiest of all, for each morning I am reborn as I drink from the golden cup of your grace, and find that my deepest dreams and desires have all come true.”

Oh. My. Fuck me now, God.
 

The lump in my throat was the size of a basketball. My mouth hung open. I suspected drool ran down my chin, but I was distracted by the fact my body was on fire, raging with desire. All I could think about was the nuclear blast mushroom-clouding out from my core.

Would it be impolite for Christos to lay me down on one of the cushioned benches in the lobby of The Broken Yolk and take my virginity in front of everyone while we waited for our table? Unfortunately, a foggy corner of my brain suggested it would.
 

Drat.
 

Not that I wanted an audience, but I was feeling slightly impatient to get my panties off at the moment. Maybe someone could yell “Fire!” and clear the room?

No, that wouldn’t work either. The fire department would show up way too quick, which would again put a damper on things. On second thought, I’d probably need them to douse me and Christos to keep us from spontaneously combusting while we went at it.

Okay, this wasn’t getting me anywhere. I tried to snap myself out of my sultry fantasy. So I focused on Christos’ grinning lips, which were an inch from mine. Not helping. I wanted to devour them.

Luckily, out of the corner of my eye, I slowly became aware of Romeo gawking at us like we were a three-dollar peep show. That broke the spell.
 

I glanced over at Romeo. He looked hypnotized. His eyes seemed to spiral randomly. His head lolled in lazy circles. I think he was in rapture.

“Are you okay, Romeo?” I giggled.

“I think I just witnessed the second coming,” he moaned.

Kamiko groaned from the bench, “Yours or Samantha’s?”

Romeo burst out laughing.

While snickering at Kamiko’s punchline, Christos pecked me on the cheek. “How was that?”

I blinked at him several times. “Huh?” I was still transfixed.

“My love sonnet?” he grinned.

“Oh, yeah. Did you make that up just now, or did you read it somewhere?” His answer had to be no, because no man could possibly be this perfect.

“No,” he smiled.
 

I felt a sudden pinch of disappointment. Oh well. No one was
perfect
perfect. Not even Christos.

He flashed a cocky smile. “I worked it out in my head this morning after I woke up, while you nuzzled against me. I kept looking at you, feeling this overwhelming sense of gratitude and love for having you in my life. I didn’t have a paint brush handy, and I didn’t want to wake you up to grab a sketchbook, so I did my best to capture the moment in words.”

THUMP!

Romeo had slid from the bench and fallen to his knees. He wrapped his arms around my leg and wailed,
“Please, Sam! Let me have just one night with him! I’ll do anything! Please!!!”

Yes, everyone in the lobby was gawking at Romeo while he sobbed. He didn’t care.

Between Romeo’s emotional flood and my full body flush, I needed a moment away from the staring eyes of the customers in the lobby.

“Hey, Kamiko,” I hissed while tugging at her shoulder, “do you need to go to the bathroom?”

“Baaaaah,” she moaned, still balled up on the couch.

I was on my own. “I’ll be in the restroom,” I said to Christos. I skulked into the Ladies Room and locked myself in a stall, fanning my face while my heart rate returned to normal.

After splashing water in my face at the restroom sink and toweling off, I returned to the lobby.

SAMANTHA

The waiting crowd at the Broken Yolk had thinned. Romeo sat beside Kamiko on the couch.

“Hey, Kamiko,” Romeo said, trying to shake her awake. “I know Cartoon Hangover is your favorite channel on Youtube, because they have all the episodes of Bravest Warriors for free. But how do you like having a real hangover? Are you going to officially ‘Like’ it and click the thumbs-UP icon?”

“Leave her alone, Romeo,” I smiled. “She’s dying.”

Without looking up, Kamiko raised her hand and gave Romeo a thumb’s DOWN gesture.

Romeo cackled with laughter. He leaned over and massaged her shoulder affectionately. “Don’t worry, Kamiko, we’ll kick your hangover by dinner. Even if it means more drinks.”

Kamiko groaned.

One of the things I loved about The Broken Yolk was that they were locally notorious for serving a dozen-egg omelet and biscuits called the Challenge. Madison had told me all about it the first time she’d taken me here.

The Challenge omelet was free if you finished it in less than an hour, and you even got a plaque on the wall of fame, but one person had to eat the whole thing by themselves. The idea made me want to barf, but I still thought it was totally cool that they made it free for the winners. I never dared. I was totally down with their human-sized portions.

“You know, Christos,” I said, “they serve a gigantic dozen-egg omelet here.”

He raised an eyebrow thoughtfully. “Really?”

“Yeah, it’s, like, thirty bucks, but if you finish it in an hour, it’s free.”

“Wow, that’s amazing,” he smiled.

I grinned coyly. “I bet you couldn’t eat the whole thing.”

“Probably not today.”

“You’re not chicken, are you?” I prodded.

“Who, me? No way,” he scoffed.

“Then you should totally order it.”

“Naw, I think I’ll be good with a three-egger. Maybe four, if I’m feeling dangerous.”

I cackled, “Chicken! Bock, bock!”

Christos smirked, glancing at Romeo. “Look at this crazy girl, trying to goad me into a gut-bomb.”

Romeo put his hands on his hips and did a head roll. “I don’t know, C-man. A real man never backs down from a challenge.”

“You calling me out, Romeo?” Christos asked confidently. “You ready to go head-to-head?”

Fear pinched Romeo’s face. “Oh, um,” he giggled nervously, “I’m not a real man.” He shrugged his shoulders.

Christos smirked. “That’s what I thought.”

“Come on, Christos,” I jabbed, “you don’t get off that easily. I’m still issuing the challenge, for the Challenge,” I winked at him, “no pun intended.”

Christos sighed indulgently. “Give it a rest, Samantha.”

“I knew it!” I squealed. “You’re just chicken! I’m totally not buying your whole ‘I’m too cool for gruel’ routine. Be a man, Christos. Show us what you’ve got. Order the Challenge.”