Pain And Pleasure 18+✓

Seventeen

Mario drops me off at Ben's, the best speakeasy coffee house in Summerlin. It's our favorite hideout, and it's one of the oldest buildings in the neighborhood, made of red bricks, hardwood, and solid glass. Its 90s interior is it's
main charm and it holds many fond memories my pals and I share.

Just as I march near the entrance mahogany doors, I see Josh and Sally chortling over something on the phone, seated closer than any other person inside the place. I just smile, because sometimes I wonder why they are not dating yet if they fancy hibernating like a pair of worms.

I saunter in, regarding the neighbourhood old men on the counter, whom I've seen so many times in and out of the cafe. They smile widely at me before catching up with usual current affairs and other topics of their interest, not that I know one or two things about Pensions and nagging wives.

One thing I like about this place is the never-ending voices of people chattering, and the scent of fresh bread and pastries. Hmm, I can smell vanilla and cream and chocolate and so many spices along the freshly brewed coffee. The ambience is warm and friendly with seats made in booths—mostly couches.

I find my friends and finally feel at home after all that transpired a few moments ago. With these heels, the dress, and the soreness between my legs, I'm not positive if coming here was a brilliant idea. As much as I'm somehow rejuvenated, a part of me wishes to be somewhere quiet and do nothing.

"Hey." I drop my bag on the brown, classic worn-out leather sofa, announcing my presence.

"Hey... Oh my God!" Sally exhorts, glancing at me as though I've grown a second nose.

"What?" I grin awkwardly.

"Men." Now it's Josh gawking as I peel off my trenchcoat.

"Okay, you guys need to stop doing that," I remark with a blush on my face because I'm suddenly the centre of everyone's attention.

Of course, most of them think of a hooker girl coming from work.  And honestly, I don't give a damn at this point. Not with the 100,000 USD in my bank account.

"I swear if I met you in the street I would totally make a move on you, Linc. You look hawt!" Josh snaps, eyes on the figure-hugging dress that makes me feel like a diva.

"That's creepy." I drape my coat on the

"Me, too. With how hot you look, bitch, I wouldn't mind questioning my sexuality for once in my life," utters Sally with a mouthful of sprinkled donuts.

"And that's creeper!" I shrug out of my coat and lay it on the backrest of the couch. "I'm starving. I need to eat."

"No, we talk first then you eat," Sally says. Her dry voice is always beautiful and unique, just like her boyish-cut brunette hair with faint purple highlights.

She's a tattoo girl, inked all over her arms with intricate designs. Meaningful to her, weird to the rest of us. She talks like a broken record but knows when to stop. She's a great cousin and friend.

As for Josh, he's a neat Korean gentleman with a great countenance. Half nerdy, half sporty. He's smart, good-looking, with all qualities making a fine man you can rely on.

"Okay?" I answer dubiously while taking a seat across the wooden table, facing them. "Why are you both looking at me like that?" I quiz, for they're suddenly seated upright, waiting for something.

"Where have you been? Who were you with? Because I swear this whole look says something is up. You dating?" Sally bombards me with questions.

"Working?" I reply. It's true, right? "I mean, I told you I got a new job and a gig at the hotel. Can't I look good and work at the same time?"