Page 156 of Lovers' Dance

Something tickled my nose. A groan crept past my dry and cracked lips as I sleepily jerked away from the offending touch. Again a light tickle. This time, I managed to prise one eye open to encounter the bloodshot green eyes of Marie-Sol. God. She looked how I felt. Like shit. Her index finger was the culprit, trailing lightly over my nose.

“MSG, I made you anarepita,” she rasped. My old nickname though garbled was sweet to my ears.

“Withqueso blanco rallado?” I rasped back. How she managed to slip that past customs I had no idea.

She nodded, then stopped with a tortured groan. “You need to eat, MSG.”

I struggled into an upright position, moaning at the pain in my head and hating the sunlight streaming through my bedroom curtains. I was going to order blackouts, right after breakfast.

“What time is it, Sol?” I asked as she slumped against the pillows. Her long, black hair was in disarray.

“Too damned early,” she mumbled, eyelids slipping close. “Brush your teeth, your breath is foul.”

If I had the energy, I would have laughed. There was no energy. There was no laugh.

“Happy Birthday,” she said, tugging me down into a hug. We both groaned. Moving was bad.

“Are the boys awake?” I cleared my throat. How much had I drunk last night? Hell, how much had I drunk since Friday? It was Monday today, my birthday. And my friends would be flying home tomorrow. I only had them for one more day.

“Yeah,” she grumbled into my face. Her breath was stinky, too. I peered at her face. She was pretty. South American mother and German father. And she had the voice of an angel, except when her throat was being abused by copious amounts of alcohol.

“Are they still planning to—”

“Yeah.” She started to grin at me. “Bret bought a leather belt especially for you. I think my man has a fetish for your ass, MSG. He’s planned out a schedule on how to deliver all twenty-seven lashes.”

“Asshole,” I muttered, dreading the game that had started years ago. It wasn’t so bad when I was eleven. But now at twenty-seven? Those lashes were adding up, and Bret never went easy on me.

I sighed and snuggled into Marie-Sol.

“Yourarepitais going cold, MSG, and we’ve got a lot more partying to do. How are you holding up?” she asked, wrapping her smelly pits around me.

“Urgh. Sol. You stink.” I rolled away and she laughed, then groaned, clutching her head.

“You, too. Answer the question. How are you holding up?”

I shrugged and slowly sat up again, holding my head as still as possible. “You know me, surviving.”

“Surviving,” she repeated, easing herself upright and doing the same immobile head move that I did. “I need some of your brownies today.”

I started to grin. “Flying high later?”

Marie-Sol leaned over slowly, gripping her head, to press a kiss on my cheek. “Touching the sky, baby. Let’s go downstairs before the boys eat everything.”

Helping each other, we got out of bed and made our way, rather unsteadily, down the stairs in our sweat-stained t-shirts and undies. When we hobbled into my kitchen, the boys were wolfing down Marie-Sol’s deliciousarepitas.

“Hey, birthday girl,” Dante said, wiping his hands on a napkin before opening his arms. I went straight over, curling onto his lap as he wrapped his arms around me. “Happy Birthday, sweet cheeks.”

I muttered thanks into his neck and hugged him tighter. Dante rubbed his hand over my t-shirt clad back in circular motions, while Bret got halfway off his chair to lean over and kiss my shoulder.

“Happy Birthday, MSG.”

Marie-Sol stood over Dante and passed a hand over my jungle-wild hair. The three of them encircled me with affection, with support. I loved my friends.

“Coffee?” Bret asked, standing up fully and pushing his chair back. I raised my head from Dante’s neck and nodded. Bret rolled his neck and shoulders, working out the kinks, then sauntered over to get me coffee. Marie-Sol eyed her boyfriend of five years. They were cute together. It had taken them a long while before they gave into the simmering heat that bubbled between them. I remembered being fifteen and having to listen to Marie-Sol list all the reasons she despised him, immediately followed by all the reasons she was crushing on him. I knew they would end up together, but it had been a long road for them to get where they were now.

“You smell, sweet cheeks,” Dante advised as he sniffed, then wrinkled his nose. His usual braids were undone and his ’fro had bits of fluff in it. I reached up to pluck it out and his nose wrinkled further. “Damn, Madi. You need a shower.”

I slapped my hand in the middle of his bare chest and rolled my eyes before slipping off his lap. I stretched in my t-shirt and Dante’s gaze lingered for a second before it jumped behind me. Slyly.

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