Page 11 of Finding London

When we get home, Maggie is blaring music and dancing in the kitchen, putting away the dishes. Her face lights up when she sees us. “My boys!” she yells over the racket.

Cooper pulls her into an embrace, locking his lips with hers. I turn my attention to the stack of mail on the table and try to block out the smacking noises.

“Loïc,” Maggie squeals my name. “Thanks for going out with us tonight.” She hugs me from behind.

I tap my hand against hers that are splayed across my stomach. “You’re welcome, Mags.”

She lets go.

“I’m gonna go shower,” I say.

I suppose, as far as female roommates go, Maggie is the best I could hope for. Cooper’s a lucky man. Maggie’s awesome. And I lied when I said that Cooper was my only family because Maggie is, too.

After my shower, I throw on a pair of jeans and a T-shirt, and then I make my way toward the laughter in the living room. Cooper is sitting on the couch, freshly showered and ready to go. He and Maggie are cracking up over something.

“What’s so funny?”

“Oh, Berkeley, man…we were just talking about you.” Cooper calls me by my last name as well.

“Oh, yeah? What about?”

Maggie chimes in, “Remember that time we went out and that stage-five clinger would not leave you alone?”

“The redhead?”

“Yep,” Cooper confirms. “The one who was as hot as she was crazy.”

“Hey.” Maggie hits him in the stomach with a disapproving look.

“Babe, you know she was hot but not as gorgeous as you. No one is.” He smiles sweetly at her before kissing her on her temple.

“Aw, thanks, baby,” Maggie addresses Cooper before turning her attention to me. “Remember how she wouldn’t leave you alone, no matter what we did?”

I roll my eyes. “How could I forget?”

I think back to the night that I just wanted to spend with Cooper and Maggie, and this chick wouldn’t leave. She was so brazen, too. At one point, underneath the table, she grabbed my dick outside of my jeans.

I shake my head and chuckle. “Oh, the beer.”

“I know! That’s what we were just talking about!” Maggie laughs.

Cooperaccidentallyspilled his beer on this chick’s shirt because he was so sick of her hanging around our table. Yet, instead of leaving, she simply took off her tank top, leaving her upper half in only her lacy red bra. She claimed that the bra could double as a shirt.

“After all, girls wear tube tops all the time,” was her reasoning.

“You’re like a magnet for crazy chicks,” Cooper states with a chuckle.

“It’s because he’s so damn hot,” Maggie says.

Cooper whips his head to the side and gives her an accusatory stare.

“Not hotter than you, baby, but the girls know you’re taken.”

“Damn straight,” Cooper answers.

Maggie has a point in that clingy girls tend to find me and have a difficult time in letting go of me. I’m not a prude when it comes to hook-ups. Depending on my mood, I’m game for a night with a hottie in my bed, just as any other twenty-five-year-old guy would be. But, when a girl has a certain look in her eyes, I stay away at all costs. When her eyes are screamingmore, I run.

I don’t do relationships. I never have, and I’m not sure I ever will. It’s just not me. I know what it feels like to be heartbroken, and I don’t want to make someone else feel that way. So, if I get the vibe that the girl is looking for more than just a night, I steer clear.

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