I stood up and Emilio did too, and Lance followed on what I could only assume was shaky legs. I held out my hand for him to shake, more on my side of his table because there was no way I was meeting this fucker half way on anything. He hesitantly leaned across and shook my hand. His palm was sweaty and limp, his face still pale. “Now, smile for your colleagues who are watching. And get yourself some help. See a shrink that deals with abusive arseholes like yourself. For fuck’s sake.”
We left, I gave the wide-eyed assistant a smile as we walked past, and it wasn’t until we were in the elevator and the doors closed that we all busted up laughing. “Man, you were so good!” I told Emilio. I slapped my hand to his. “Don’t make us come collect,” I mimicked his voice.
Emilio grinned proudly. “And you telling him he’s a piece of shit, small-dicked man.” He laughed some more. “Perfect.”
“I speaketh the truth,” I said. “So, do you reckon it worked? You think he’ll look for Yanni now?”
Emilio shook his head as we walked out onto the city sidewalk. “Nah. Like you said. That piece of shit is a fucking coward.”
I held my fist out for him to bump with his. “Like I said, my man, I only speaketh the truth.”
We were still pumped later that night, sitting around the small waiting room in the tattoo parlour. It was after seven, Emilio had shut the shop early, and the table in the middle of the chairs was filled with an array of takeout containers. Lola and Gabe were there, Daniela and Emilio, and me. I was waiting for Andrew to arrive, and right on seven, my phone beeped. He was at the back door. I let him in with a kiss. He dropped an overnight bag inside the door, and we walked through to where everyone was chatting, laughing, and eating. I pulled him onto the sofa next to me, sitting so our sides touched, shoulder to shoe.
When we’d got back from our little visit with Lance, I’d sent Andrew a text to say everything went as planned. But now we filled him in on the details. Daniela handed Andrew her phone with the photo we’d taken before we’d left, suited up with our game faces on. “That’s them, all dressed up.”
Andrew looked at the picture and his gaze shot to Emilio. “Is that you?”
It was hard to reconcile the mean looking guy in the photo to the always smiling, happy-faced Emilio sitting across from us. “Impressive, huh?”
“You look good!” Andrew said, then of course he blushed when everyone laughed. “I didn’t mean it like that.”
Emilio held his fist out for Andrew to bump. “Thanks, my man.” Then he turned to Daniela. “See? I am good looking to everyone, not just the ladies.”
And we spent the next several hours talking, laughing, eating, and drinking beers. Emilio and Andrew had drawing contests, most of which ended in bursts of laughter, and I spent the night with my hand on his thigh, chatting with everyone, marvelling at how perfect this was.
Andrew, the unlikeliest of people, a proper-speaking, argyle-wearing nerd fit in with this bunch of tattooed, mismatched family like he was made just for it.
Like he was made just for me.
I hadn’t realised it was so late, but when Andrew looked at his watch, he smiled. “It’s Saturday.”
I shook my head, a little confused. “So?”
He narrowed his eyes at me and whispered, “So? That means it’s Saturday. And you never specified what time on Saturday we had to wait until. And I’m not waiting until Saturday night. No way.”
Saturday? “Oh.”
Andrew stood up. “Thank you all for a great night,” he said, “but we might be going now.”
I laughed from where I still sat on the sofa. “It’s possible I told them we were holding off until this weekend before we had sex.”
Andrew stared at me, his mouth fell open, and he blushed right down his neck; his cheeks and the tips of his ears went red. He closed his eyes for a second then sighed loudly. “Well, on that note, yes, it’s now technically the weekend,” he checked his watch again, “by one minute. So we have somewhere else we’d rather be, no offence.”
I laughed, got to my feet, and put my arms around him. “Your tact could use some work.”
Andrew shrugged and half-smiled. He ran his hand over my arse. “You’re wasting time.”
I laughed again and turned to our somewhat shocked friends. “He doesn’t look like the bossy type, does he?”
Lola laughed and clapped her hands together. “You tell him, Andrew. And Spencer, we don’t want to see you until Sunday morning coffee.”
Andrew took my hand and dragged me toward the back door. “Don’t worry, you won’t,” he called out, and I could still hear them laughing as we shut the door behind us.
He had his overnight bag and waited for me to open the door. I let him inside first and followed him in, where he dropped his bag and pushed me against the door with his body. He kissed me like no one else had ever kissed me. He was ravenous, demanding, and so fucking hot. When he finally pulled his mouth from mine, he whispered against my mouth, “I’ve waited so long for this.”
My dumbarse brain was still reeling from that kiss. “Me too.”
“Tell me right now if you don’t want this,” he said, still pushing me up against the door. His hard on rubbed against mine, his eyes were dark, his voice was gravel and honey.