illicit funds • j cody

NINE

💸 WAIT FOR IT 💸

I feel like I'm in paradise. Warm, tropical sunlight filters through the wall of windows facing the beach. J's chest is pressed against my back and he holds me tight. The only thing disrupting my paradise is a pounding headache.

After my rather traumatic experience at the gravesite, I decided to go to the club and have a drink to settle my nerves. One drink turned into two, and two turned into three, and the next thing I knew I was stumbling into some tattoo parlor, holding true to my promise that I would drink my sorrows away and eventually get a tattoo.

I look at the underside of my left forearm to inspect the new ink. It says plata o plomo in a typewriter font. Could be worse. My father's probably going to kill me for it, amongst other things. I need a coffee, and another drink, but I don't want to try prying his arm off me.

I don't think we even fucked last night, I think he just dragged me to bed after my long night out. He's a good guy. I like him. Eventually my need for coffee outweighs my kindness and I roll out of bed with a groan before pulling on a silk robe.

I glance over my shoulder at him as he rubs the sleep out of his eyes and sits up, "What are you doing up already?" he rasps.

"I'm dying for a coffee," I pull my long hair over my shoulder. For the first time in a long time my hair is completely undone. "I feel like shit. Why'd you let me drink so much?"

He shrugs, "I felt like you needed it after what happened."

"That's probably true," I laugh softly. "What do you think of my tattoo?"

He leans back on his elbow, "I think it's badass."

"Oh yeah?" I throw a couple a of quick punches, "Imagine getting a knockout punch and the last thing you see is that tattoo, you know you're done for," the sudden movement has caused my head to pound even harder, "Okay, I really need to go get some coffee, you want any?"

"I'll come with you," he drags himself out of bed.

I start towards the door, "You don't have to, I was going to come back up here anyway."

He catches up to me a wraps his arms around my waist from behind, "You should be the one staying in bed after last night."

"Let me go," I laugh, "I'm serious, I need coffee now. I'm actually going to shoot you if you don't let me go."

He kisses my neck, "No you won't."

"Yeah," I pry myself from him, "I will." I throw the door open with a smirk and walk out into the hallway, my feet treading quietly on the cool tile.

"What are we doing today?" He calls down the hall.

"I don't know," I reply, "haven't made any plans past getting my coffee and taking an aspirin."

"We could just relax here," he suggests.

"That would probably be safest. I'm not really in the mood for getting shot at today," I turn around and lean against the wall. "You're probably waiting for that shag I promised yesterday, aren't you?"

His fingertips land lightly on my waist, "There's no rush."

"Good," I lick my lips, "because I was thinking of making you wait a little longer for it," I traipse away from him and continue down the hall with a little skip in my step.

"Seriously?" He groans.

"You said it yourself," I giggle, "there's no rush."

"I can't believe I said that..."