“Our table is clean,” I reply, unimpressed.
“Of course.” She scurries back to the kitchen. “Sorry.”
Sorry she did it or sorry she got busted?
Stupid idiot.
“Go, Grumps.” Christopher smiles. He listens to Elliot, who must be asking what’s happening. “Hayden’s going all caveman over here and waving girls along,” he tells his brother before he laughs again.
“What the hell?” I whisper angrily. “Don’t tell him that.”
“I’ve got to go,” he says. “I’m about to get dragged back to the room by my balls.” He laughs. “I can only hope.” He hangs up.
“Don’t tell your brother I’m waving girls along. He’s going to think I’m a psychopath.”
“Were you waving her along?” he asks.
“That’s not the point,” I snap. “And why did you tell your brother I’m dragging you home by the balls?”
“Because I’m hoping you are, right before you suck on them and slap them up against your ass cheeks.” He gives me a playful wink.
“Will you be serious for one minute?” I whisper angrily. “There will be no ball sucking . . . or slapping, for that matter.”
He exhales heavily as if he has the weight of the world on his shoulders. “I guess you want to go and buy a book instead?”
I smirk, feeling embarrassed by my little jealous and antifun outburst. “No,” I announce. “I thought you were taking me to the sex shop?”
His eyes light up, and he rubs his hands together in glee. “Now we’re talking.”
Five hours later we walk out of our hotel lobby hand in hand. We’re on our way to the hostel to pick up some more clothes for tonight.
And . . . just as Christopher predicted, we went to the sex shop, came back to our room, and spent the last two hours in bed. I can confirm there was both sucking and slapping. I can also confirm that the man is an animal. I’m feeling pretty animalistic myself, actually.
I feel flushed, excited, and utterly well fucked.
“Good afternoon,” Christopher says to the doormen.
“Good afternoon, sir,” they all reply.
He looks around. “You want to walk, Grumps?”
“It’s a bit far, isn’t it?”
“It is a nice day.” He twists his lips. “Uber then?”
“I guess.”
“We do have bicycles, sir,” one of the doormen replies.
“You do?”
“Yes, sir. At the other entrance on the side street, we have bicycles you can use.”
Christopher’s eyes meet mine. “Want to ride a bike?”
I smirk. I have been riding all day.
“Sure.”
“Great, thanks.” We walk around to the other door, and the bikes are all lined up.
They are bright yellow and vintage-style with the big loopy handlebars.
“Can we have two bikes, please?” he asks the attendant.
“Sure thing.” The attendant unhooks two bikes, and we put on our helmets and climb on.
I wobble around as I push off. “I haven’t ridden a bike in years.” I laugh.
“Same,” Christopher replies as he concentrates. “Woo.” He gets the wobbles and crashes into the curb. He has to dive off before he falls.