Page 105 of Pawn

“Lea.”

“Let’s talk redecorating,” Lea pulls her blouse higher on her neck as she enters the space, her eyes wandering the room. Damien groans behind me as Lea babbles on about foreign interior designers. Something about the same guy who designed their apartment in the Upper East Side.

Despite what Lea thinks, our loft in Montreal is the perfect combination of both of us. Glamour and grunge. Damien insisted we have state-of-the-art appliances but I insisted on the greenery climbing up and down one side of the brick wall. He got the mega-wide big screen TV while I got the far corner by the window as my own personal creative space. Me and my easels. Some decisions, like what band photos got framed, didn’t go down without some fight but that’s what we do. We fight. So we can make it up to each other the best way we know how. With our bodies slamming together.

“You made it to the big eighteen!” Allie holds out her arms in a tank-top and jeans, “Yes, I Have a Vagina” painted on her shirt that tells me she’s fitting into NYU just fine. She grabs me in an embrace, her hair smelling like pot. “Happy birthday, Jo. We wouldn’t miss it.”

“Thanks, Allie.” I squeeze before pulling back, a whiff of pot coming off her. “Wait, how long have you been here? Did you already smoke?”

“Landed at noon and we stopped to get you a gift.” Reaching into her tote, she pulls out a large container of legal weed.

Lea pipes from the sofa, “I’m classier than that. Besides, this place could use an uplift from Tiffany’s.”

“Who’s Tiffany?” Isaac appears behind Allie, two bottles of brown liquid in his hand and now I’m sure Damien’s invited the whole squad.

“The girl from frosh week?” Christian appears beside him next, confirming it.

“Ew,” Allie turns around before she reaches to hug her brother. “What a great way to say hello.”

Christian snorts, his arms around his sister as Isaac hands me a bottle, saluting to me. “Is Lea turning you into a princess?”

“Too many pucks to your head turning you into a doofus?”

“Gentlemen,” Damien pipes up from the couch. “Drinks are in the fridge.”

“This place is sweet,” Christian looks around before coming to hug me. It’s strong. Firm. Everything I remember. “Happy birthday, Jo.” Reaching into his pocket he pulls out two tickets. My brows furrow as he places it in my hand. “Come see a game sometime.”

“Back away from my girl, Perez,” I can hear Damien’s growl from the couch as I move towards the door, peeking into the bright foyer for any signs of anyone else.

That’s when I hear his voice. “You’d think they have an elevator. Who the fuck moves to Montreal?”

“Nate?”

Footsteps pick up before Nate appears in the foyer at the top of the steps. “I’ll call you back, babe.” He says, a smile forming on his face as he saunters towards me. “You didn’t hear that, did you?”

“I did.” I smile.

“I was just … oh c’mere.” When he’s in front of me, he gives me a big hug. “Happy birthday, Scandal.”

“I thought you were in Peru.” My voice muffles, Nate squeezing me into oblivion.

“I was,” he says, releasing me so he can move inside the loft, waving at everyone. “I fly back on Sunday. Consider yourself special.”

Locking the door behind me I look at them all in our space, Nate jumping on Allie when he gets to her. They all sprawl across the sofa, chairs and rug. A group of people I wanted nothing to do with not even a year ago. Now, we’re in this beautiful space with a guy I love, my sister, and well, my new family.

“Get over here,” Damien beckons, curling his fingers towards me. “Unless you’re exhausted from our afternoon fuck.”

“I swear to god, King,” Lea pipes up, getting Damien to smirk, his eyes sparkling my way. I’m drawn to them regardless like I’m floating through the air right into his arms.

Pulling me on his lap, he whispers in my ear, his voice a deep growl, “Still wet for me, Medusa?” The others are too distracted in their conversation to hear it or to know his cock hardens underneath me.

“I forgot the cake!” Willow calls from the fridge as the doorbell rings again.

“We can order one,” Lea scoffs, pulling her phone from her itty bitty purse. “By the way.” She glances up. “Have you heard from Jordan?”

Willow’s face falls like she’s frozen and it makes me narrow my eyes.

“No,” she says before she plasters a smile on her face, but I don’t miss that look. The one she gives when she’s disappointed as fuck. “But I’m sure he’s fine.”

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