“Is there a bathroom I can use?” I ask him, and he points at the bathroom in the corner.
“You better hurry back,” Nancy says, twirling. I walk into the bathroom, locking the door. I put my hands on the sink and let out a huge breath.
I’m in the bathroom for no more than a minute and then go back out. There is soft music playing now, and I look around and then stop in my tracks when Nancy stands in front of me naked. “What is going on?” I ask her. She winks at me, and I swear I don’t think I’ve ever been so scared in my life.
“It’s time to get you naked,” she says, coming to me, and if I thought that this night had started off insane, nothing could have prepared me for Luigi coming back in the room naked also.
“Shall we start?” He claps his hands together. “Let’s make art.”
Chapter 9
Layla
I sit on the couch to watch television, but I can’t focus on it at all. I don’t even know what’s going on. I keep looking down at my phone to make sure I don’t miss a text or a picture or anything and even keep checking his Instagram for a picture, but it’s been radio silent for over two hours. I even texted Grandma, but she has yet to answer me.
Maybe pushing Grandma to go out with him was a bad idea. Maybe I should have just bitten the bullet and gone on the date with him. Fuck, it would have been one date, so one night for two hours tops. My mind goes around and around with scenarios as I tap my finger on my phone, and none of them are good. I finally give up, and I’m about to call her when the phone rings, and I see it’s Miller.
“Hello,” I say, putting the phone on speaker.
“Are you home?” he asks, and his voice is low, almost in a whisper.
“Yes, why?” Throwing the cover off me, I walk to the front door, flip on the outside lights, then unlock the door and walk out. Miller stands leaning against the limo, and he puts his phone down as I make my way down to him. “What happened?” He looks exhausted.
“Oh, gorgeous,” he says, and I hate that he gave me that nickname. Okay, I’m lying. I love when he calls me that. “I don’t even know where to start with that question.”
“Where is my grandmother?” I ask, looking around. “Is she here? Did you drop her off at home?”
“Oh, she’s here,” he says, walking over to the limo door and opening it. All I see is her hair, and when I lean in a bit, I notice she’s sprawled out on the back seat.
“What did you do to her?” I ask, poking my head inside and calling her name. When she doesn’t budge or stir, I get out of the limo and look at him with an arched brow, waiting for an answer.
“What did I do to her?” he asks, and his voice goes louder. “What did I do to her?” He shakes his head and runs his hands through his hair. “The question is, what did she do to me?” He points at himself.
“I don’t understand.” I look at my grandmother. “Grandma,” I say, and she doesn’t stir. “What did you give her?”
“What did I give her?” He laughs. “Me? The question you should ask right now is, how was your night, Miller.”
I cross my hands over my chest and roll my eyes. “Fine. How was your night, Miller?”
“Funny you should ask, gorgeous,” he says. “It started off really well. Had this whole thing set up. We were going to go for a gondola ride and then have a picnic in the park under the stars, but hey, shit happens. Right?” He puts his hands on his hips. “Fast forward to getting in the car. Where your grandmother physically assaulted me.” I roll my eyes now. “I thought I was going to be Bruce Lee at one point. She had her hands everywhere.” His eyes go big. “Everywhere. It was like I was fighting with an octopus; her hands were everywhere all at the same time. She tried to get my dick out of my pants five minutes into the date.” He points at his dick.
My eyes automatically go down to his area. “Did she succeed?” I ask, trying not to laugh.
“No, she did not succeed. I had to pry her off me, and when I tried to tell her to stop, she stuck her tongue into my mouth,” he says, throwing his hands up in the air. “All the while, drinking champagne. I had to pick her up and put her in her seat. I almost jumped into the front seat with the driver.”
“Oh, don’t pretend you didn’t like it.” I cock my hip. “Let’s be real. She’s the best thing you’ve been with in a long time.”
“I will agree with you on that,” he tells me. “She asked me to take her painting. Said it would be nice.” I look at him, waiting. “Why not? I thought.”
“Oh.” I put my hand to my mouth. “Like a painting class? That doesn’t sound bad.”
“That’s what I thought, too. I see them on Facebook, where everyone’s painting the same thing. It should be nice. I can maybe ask her about you, try to connive her to tell you to date me,” he says, going to the trunk of the limo and opening it. I wait as he takes a sheet out. “Painting. How bad could it be?” He opens the canvas, and all I see are different colors all smashed together. “I came out of the bathroom and came face-to-face with your grandmother.” I look at him as he talks. “Naked.” I try not to laugh. “Oh, and it gets so much better. Luigi, the painting instructor, was also naked.”
“Maybe they wanted you to paint them. Like David.” I try to make an excuse for it, but I swear it takes everything in me not to laugh out loud.
“Come to think of it, I wish that was the reason.” He lets out a bitter chuckle. “No, you see, what they wanted to do was for all three of us to get naked.” My eyes go big. “Paint each other and then have sex with each other while on said canvas,” he says. “Luigi called it taste the rainbow.”
I can’t help it now as I bend over and laugh. “Like Skittles.”
“Who knows?” He throws up his hands, and they fall by his sides. “I have no idea. I was trying not to look at the two naked people in front of me to ask him where he came up with the saying.” He puts his hands in front of his mouth. “I saw things I shouldn’t have today. Then Nancy came running up to me and said she baked me a brownie.”
I run to him now. “Oh my God, tell me you didn’t eat it.” My eyes go wide.
“Are you crazy?” he asks. “I spit it out, but don’t worry, she picked it up and ate it anyway.”
“Is that why she’s passed out?”
“Well, it could be that, or the two hours of sex that she and Luigi had.” He puts his hands on his hips.
“You watched them?” I ask hesitantly, not sure what to think.
“Are you out of your mind?” He shakes his head. “I ran out of there and sat in the car eating the picnic I made for us,” he says as he moves me to the side. “We couldn’t get the music to go loud enough to drown out the moans.” I have no words; all I can do is try not to laugh. “I swear I thought she was going to break a hip.”
“She’s fine,” I tell him as he leans into the car to try to grab her.
“Is she covered in paint?” I ask, and he huffs out and grabs her enough to get out of the car with her.