Page 87 of Brooklyn Cupid

I don’t know how much time passed while we kissed. Five minutes? Half an hour?

“I should probably go say goodbye to her,” Lu says and bites her lip.

I hate the thought of letting her go. I need just another second with her. So I lean in and kiss her softly on the cheek, then bring my lips to her ear, whispering, “Go,” and kiss her earlobe, making her giggle.

She takes a step away, grinning at me. My hands fall off her, and I groan inwardly—I’m hard, and it’s unbearably hard to let her go.

“B!” Lu shouts after Becky and disappears behind the terrace doors.

Only now do I notice that it’s not as noisy. There are fewer people on the terrace. The music is quieter inside. People are picking up their purses and jackets and laugh, hugging Lu goodbye.

Tito’s ass is on the kitchen island as he takes sloppy sips from a margarita glass.

“A neighbor came knocking, asked to take it down a notch,” he tells me when I come over. “It’s midnight. Who sleeps so early on a Saturday?”

Midnight? Wow. I exhale loudly and ruffle my hair, keeping Lu in my peripheral as I start picking up empty bottles and cups.

In half an hour, it’s only me, Lu, and Tito, and I finish washing the dishes.

Pushkin is out of my room and walks around sniffing everything.

Lu doesn’t meet my eyes as she chats with drunk Tito on the couch. But there’s a smile on her lips, a vague beautiful smile that I hope is meant for me.

“Lu,” Tito whines as he slides down to lie on her lap. “I’m gonna crash here.”

My heart sinks. That means no alone time with Lu. No goodnight kiss. No, “Can I put you to bed, Lu, and kiss the hell out of you so you fall asleep with my taste on your lips?”

“Hey, guys,” Tito says dreamily as Lu plays with his hair. “After your exhibit, Lu, we are all going to my house in Long Island.”

“You have a house in Long Island?” I ask from the kitchen.

“In the Hamptons,” Lu clarifies and ruffles his hair.

It should be me with my head on her lap, and her lips on mine.

“Jace? You are coming,” Tito states.

I smile. I know all about making plans while drunk.

“Nothing funny,” he adds. “It’s my parents’ vacation home. Huge. You and Lu will love it. She hasn’t been there yet.”

He says “you and Lu” like we are an item.

“Yes!” Lu exclaims and turns toward me. “Jace, say yes!”

Our eyes lock, and I feel like I’m committing to something else, something that Long Island and a vacation trip have nothing to do with. And I get to see her in a bikini every day? Sign me up.

“Yes,” I say with a smile though I want to shout it at the top of my lungs.

Lu jumps off the couch and trots into her room, then comes back with a piece of paper and a pen. Scribbling something real fast, she gives it to Tito.

He laughs. “Oh, God. Again?”

He signs it—what the hell?—and Lu makes her way to me, slaps the paper on the kitchen counter, and puts her hands on her waist. “Signature, Mr. Reed.”

I lean on my fists on the counter to take a look.

The most uneven and barely-readable handwriting I’ve ever seen—even her writing is chaos—states that Tito, Lu, and I spend a weekend in July in the Hamptons.

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