Page 220 of Lodestar

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STAR

JE L’AIME A MOURIR - FRANCIS CABREL

I’d beena cum dump so he probably didn’t realize how fucking hard it was not to go and shower, especially when I didn’t have to ask permission to go clean up. But I did it. Not because I had to, but because he’d laid it down on the table—he’d said, “If it triggers you, you don’t have to.”

Those were the magic words.

And if anyone deserved magic, it was Conor.

It was strange how we both dressed each other in the aftermath. He pulled up my briefs for me like I couldn’t manage by myself then did the same with my jeans while I fixed his fly for him. He dragged on my tank as I patted down his shirt when it hooked under his arms.

When we were both decent-ish and had washed up in the bathroom, he slipped his hand in mine and guided me out of the bedroom. There, Dead To Me was watching something on her phone, a coffee in front of her.

Quicker than her because she was distracted, I snatched her cell and chuckled at the sight of the porn she was watching.

“Pilots?” I mocked. “Really?”

She huffed. “Don’t kill my buzz. The dudes flying this plane are hotties.”

“And you needed to see them fuck a flight attendant?”

“I couldn’t get the real deal,” she argued. “They needed to man the plane. But I figured there’d be some porn somewhere that would scratch my itch.”

“Are you the flight attendant in this scenario or the pilot?”

“I’m not sure yet.”

Conor peered at the pilots who were doing very bad things against the cockpit’s dashboard. “They’d have crashed the plane if they were flying and fucking in that position.”

Dead To Me grinned but made a ‘gimme’ motion with her hand and I returned the device to her just as mine vibrated. “You took a while to wake up.”

I ignored her to check my messages.

Conor: “Je l’aime a mourir” - Francis Cabrel

Me: French?

Conor: Don’t tell me you don’t speak it…

Me: I love her so much I could die… Stop with the sweet talk. I’m going to disintegrate in front of Cin and she’s not the kind of chick you disintegrate in front of.

Conor: Lol. True. :P

“You know I’m cranky when I first get up,” was my easy retort as I dropped my cell on the table and picked up the hot chocolate I knew she was responsible for.

“Is that what that noise was? You getting a splinter out of your hand?”

I flipped her the bird, then I watched as Conor rested his elbow on the table separating us and muttered, “Are you two always like this?”

“Pretty much,” she chirped.

He huffed then, head bowed, hid his grin in the coffee mug he was holding.

“What is it?” I asked.

“Can you imagine her and Kat locked together in an argument?”

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