Total pages in book: 114
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 111165 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
“Oh,” I say, surprised. I guess that kind of explains why they were a bit more touchy-feely with each other. “Nice to meet you.” I shake her hand and look at Laz. “Did you know she would be here?”
“Nah,” Samantha says. “He had no idea. I follow him on Instagram and Facebook and I was in LA with my boyfriend, and decided I should go to the show and say hello, remember me!”
I immediately relax at the mention of a boyfriend, so much so that Laz’s brows twitch.
“Well I’m glad you managed to come, are you doing Disneyland and all that?”
She nods. “Yup. My boyfriend is back at the hotel, he’s so knackered after being at the park so I took a chance and came by myself. So glad I did, I was just buzzin’ to come to one of his shows.”
“I haven’t seen her since I was a teenager,” Laz says. “I even had to babysit her a few times.”
She laughs, high-pitched and girly. “You were rubbish at it too.”
Now that they mentioned babysitting, I can see that she is in fact quite younger than us.
“Well, I’m going to get a drink,” Samantha says.
“I’ll come with you,” Naomi says. “I’m Naomi, by the way,” she says with a head nod. They both walk off.
“What’s wrong?” Laz asks me as he bends down to give me a quick kiss.
“Nothing,” I say, pasting on a smile. “You were so amazing. Really. The more dancey, up-tempo songs were the right thing to do, people were so into it.”
“Good,” he says, still squinting at me. My god, he is wearing my eyeliner. “But something is up. I can read you like a book you know. If I didn’t know any better, you were worried about Samantha.”
I give him a dismissive wave. “Phhfff. Forget about it.”
“You looked relieved to hear she had a boyfriend.”
I give him a sharp look. “You really are observant, aren’t you?”
“Marina, come on.”
“Well what? I was watching you guys all night and she was totally hitting on you.”
“She wasn’t. She’s, like, twenty-two and I practically grew up next door to her. I was surprised to see her and she’s just happy to be here.”
“I know that now,” I tell him. “But from far away, it looked like she was getting all handsy with you.”
“Well she wasn’t.”
Hmmm. That was a quick denial to something undeniable.
“Naomi was going to go over there and kick her butt.”
He rolls his eyes. “Yeah, well I’m not surprised about that,” he grumbles. “Honestly, I don’t think you should listen to her much.”
“She’s my friend, of course I listen to her.”
“She’s paranoid and thinks all men are scum.” He pauses. “Don’t you trust me?”
“Of course I trust you! I told her I trust you.”
“So then why get all weird about Samantha?”
“Because you’re, like, so much hotter than me.”
He bursts out laughing. “You’re kidding, right?”
“No.” Now I feel embarrassed. “And anyway, she was handsy. I don’t care if you knew her growing up, from over here it looked like she was hitting on you and you were welcoming it.”
“This is ridiculous,” he says with a sigh, rubbing his eyes, smudging his eyeliner.
Damn it, now he’s even hotter.
I clear my throat. “It’s not ridiculous. If that was me and some guy was touching me like that, would you like it? No.”
Laz doesn’t say anything, looks away.
“You know it would bother you.”
“I don’t get jealous.”
Ugh. Seriously? Why does he have to be the sane, rational one and I look like the jealous psycho.
“Yeah right,” I say.
He shrugs. “What? I don’t. It’s not in my nature.”
I give him an acidic smile. “You are full of shit. Remember in the bar in New York, that guy was talking to me and you came over and was all ‘she’s mine, she’s with me, caveman claiming his cavewoman, raaaar’.”
“That was because I didn’t know how you felt about me.”
You don’t know everything, I think to myself. You don’t know how much I love you.
“I can’t believe we’re arguing about this.”
“We’re not arguing. You’re accusing me of flirting when I wasn’t.”
“I’m not accusing,” I tell him. “Laz, you’re surrounded by hot groupies all the time, whether it’s for your writing or your music. Walk in my shoes for a moment.”
“Then you better get used to it,” he says.
I glare at him. “I don’t like this side of you. Were you like this with all your girlfriends or just me? Because if it was all of them, I can get why they never lasted very long. You are bad at this love shit.”
He flinches, pales, like I just slapped him in his face.
I swallow, feeling guilt’s whiplash, and then I’m sticking to my guns and storming off through the crowd toward the bathroom before I say something else impulsive. Usually my lack of filter is borderline endearing but tonight I realize how damaging it can be to just blurt out whatever you’re thinking.