Taking advantage of time alone in her room, he looked around and picked things up at random for closer inspection. There was a framed picture of Alisha, Maggie and Russell lounging in beach chairs sipping umbrella drinks. Russell had on the biggest hat he'd ever fucking seen (on anyone…ever) and Alisha was super tan (hot) and wearing a tiny yellow bikini (even hotter). Next, he picked up one of the many perfume bottles on the dresser and smelled it. It was the same scent she'd worn the night she'd gotten drunk and kissed him for the first time—clean and citrusy. Smirking, he set it back down and spotted another framed picture of Alisha with her arms wrapped around two older men, beaming brightly at the camera. He studied that one for a curious moment before moving on to other items in her room. Perusing the items on a bookshelf, he saw yearbooks and photo albums. Oh yeah. Definitely. Grinning, he helped himself to a few and plopped down carelessly on her bed and flipped one open. "Let's see what you were like in high school, Larrington," he mused.
Alisha dutifully tried on all of the coats, which really were beautiful. Most of them were Queen K designs and Maggie and Russell had outdone themselves. "I can't decide," she admitted truthfully. "They're all gorgeous, Russell. Pick your favorite two."
Russell tilted his head to the side, and motioned for her to turn. "No," he shook his head, dismissing the camel colored coat. "Try the houndstooth again," he told her. "I say that one or the cream trapeze coat with the black buttons."
"Those are my favorites, too," she said, shooting him a friendly smile.
"You'll look fabulous," he told her, packing up the rejected coats. "Okay, darling, I must be off. You can get back to whatever you were doing. Kiss, kiss," he trilled, fluttering his fingers at her while heading for the door.
"Bye, honey," Alisha waved. "Thanks again for the coats."
"Oh, sweetie, my pleasure. Drinks soon," he ordered over his shoulder and breezed out of sight.
With a sigh of relief, she closed the door and locked it behind her, hurrying to pick up where they'd left off. She turned the knob and opened the door to her room, finding Big lying back against the pillows, snickering as he thumbed through her senior yearbook. "By all means, Big, help yourself to my things," Alisha mused, padding over to the bed and crawling up to kneel beside him.
Big lowered the book in his hands and regarded her over the top of it, a smirk stretching over his full lips. "Larrington—this is fucking gold," he laughed, turning his attention back to the page he was perusing when she walked in. "Nice school girl uniform." He flipped through until he found her senior picture and her list of activities. She was gorgeous even then, he thought, her teenage self smiling out at him. "Oh, here we go. Alisha Larrington—National Honor Society, Glee Club, Spanish Club, Drama Club, Student Council…well, Shorty, at least you were a hot nerd…Cheerleading Team…" he trailed off, lowering the book again. "Whoa, whoa, whoa—cheerleader? Where's that picture?" he asked, wagging his brows.
Alisha rolled her eyes and watched in amusement as he furiously turned the pages, smirking at his little aha and the wolf whistle he let out when he found what he was looking for.
"Fucking hell, look at you," he said, staring at the close-up photo of her and Maggie down in the corner, with their matching blue and gold uniforms and twin braids down the backs of their heads. She had blue paw print on her cheek and a million watt smile on her face, her dimples flashing all over the place. "No offense, but you don't strike me as a cheerleader type—you look hot as fuck though."
"Your vocabulary is overwhelming, Big," she said dryly. "Anyway, I could dance, and Maggie coerced me into joining the team. She needed my skills to help the squad win some competitions. I liked that part of it a lot. The rah-rah-sis-boom-bah wasn't my favorite."
"We played your school in sports all the time. You probably drooled over my amazing athletic prowess and general sexiness even back then, Larrington. I was a stud."
"It's a wonder you haven't choked to death on your ego before, Big," she said sarcastically.
"Whatever," he muttered. "I was, and am still, a badass motherfucker." He slapped the book closed and tossed it aside. "I even had a sweet Mohawk. Tell me that shit wasn't badass."
"Did you say you had a Mohawk?" she asked, her jaw falling slightly agape.
Big grinned. "Sure did."
"Oh, my God!" she exclaimed, covering her mouth. "I remember you!" She lightly punched his shoulder. "You broke my boyfriend's nose during a basketball game."
Big puffed up his chest proudly, his lips twitching into a sneer. "See, Larrington? Badass. I think I vaguely remember getting ejected from that game," he laughed.
"I hated you and your ridiculous haircut at the time, but the next night when I found him seeking comfort in the school slut, I kind of wanted to throw you a party," she smiled.
He smirked. "You're welcome."
"Your haircut was still asinine," she informed him.
"Whatever," he shrugged, completely unoffended. "So, Lisha, what advice did Russell give you about me that you ignored?" he asked, fixing her with a curious look.
Alisha's lips pursed into a playful smile. "I didn't ignore it, but per our arrangement, he can't know that." Her smile grew as the realization dawned across his face.
"Russell told you to fuck me?" he asked, shocked. "Guess that makes up for the cockblock this afternoon about coats. Seriously, what the blue dilly fuck is so important about what coat you wear to watch the goddamn Macy's parade?"
She caught
