Page 23 of Finding London

This is the first instance that I couldn’t stop myself because my attraction to her lips was so overpowering that I’d lose my mind if I had to go another second without feeling them.

Yes, this is going to be the first of many firsts with London, and I’m going to enjoy them all…while they last.

London

“Well, you know what they say. Better to have fucked and lost than never to have fucked at all.”

—London Wright

“I still can’t believe you ran into him at the airport. What are the chances of that?” Paige sits on my bed amid her pile of gossip magazines. Her attention is torn between the gossip of Hollywood’s rich and famous and my own world of exciting developments.

“I know. It was meant to be. I really think so.” I unclip another section of my hair from where it was twisted atop my head, so I can curl it. “I’m nervous though. He’s so hot and cold. Well…he’s pretty much all cold, except for when planes are landing at Metro Airport. Apparently, under those circumstances, he just wants to make out.”

Paige and I burst into laughter.

“He’s strange, for sure. He’s lucky he’s so damn fine.” Paige returns her attention to the magazine in her hand. “Just remember, it’s no use, crying over spilled milk.”

I groan. “Nothing spilled, you dork. I know you’re the proverb queen and all, but how about you stick with your own words when giving advice? They tend to make a little more sense.”

She huffs, “Well, talk about the pot calling the kettle black.”

I throw my hairbrush at her. “I hate you.”

She uses the magazine to block the brush from hitting her. “You love me,” she says with a chuckle.

“You’re right; I do. But you do know that you kinda make me crazy, right?”

She shrugs. “It’s a gift. What can I say?”

Ignoring her rhetorical question, I ask, “How do I look?” I spin around, displaying my date outfit for approval. I’m wearing my favorite skinny jeans and a baby-pink T-shirt. I finish the outfit off with glittery ballet flats. I’m hoping the outfit screams casual but cute in that I-don’t-have-to-try-to-be-sexy-but-I-am-anyway vibe.

Paige peruses my entire look. “You look hot, but you’re, like, naturally gorgeous without even trying.”

“Yes! Thank you! That’s exactly what I was going for. You’re right; I do love you.”

“Where are you going? Did he say?”

I grab my cell to check the time. He’ll be here any minute.

“No”—I shake my head—“he didn’t.” I apply a few extra doses of my body spray and another quick run of my lip gloss.

“Well, you know what they say about surprises?” she asks.

I grab my clutch and a light jacket. It’s a hot June day, and I doubt I’ll need it, but it’s better to be prepared. “No, Paige, I have no idea what they say about surprises. Please enlighten me with your wisdom.”

“I don’t know either. I thought maybe you’d know.” Her response comes out in a giggle, and she winks at me.

“You’re such a dork, really.” I squint my eyes in mock disappointment when the doorbell chimes. I jump at the sound. Running my hands down my jeans, I say, “Here goes nothing. Bye, chica.”

“Bye. Be careful. Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do,” she calls to me as I exit my bedroom.

“I won’t, Mom!” I call back as I walk down the hall to the front door.

“Love you! Be careful!” she yells from my bedroom.

“Love you! Don’t wait up.”

I hear Paige say, “Oh, I’m waiting up,” as I open the front door.

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