Love in the Dark (LarssonSiblingsSeries#1)

CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO - DELILAH

DELILAH

Poppy feels neglected enough to force me out on Friday night. The strip of clubs along the lakes near our flat complex are something else. There's a silent disco, an upmarket strip club, foam party, and gin bar called Confetti.

I choose the gin bar because it seems more sophisticated than the others, but once we get inside the building, I realise I had misjudged it completely.

The bar stretches the entire span of the wall with the dance floor surrounding a DJ station. There's fancy carved dance poles along the back wall where dancers swing around them for some light entertainment.

It's loud inside here, and impossible to move more than two paces ahead of yourself. The good thing about being out with Poppy is that she's incredibly charming and managed to convince the guys taking up space on the table near the toilets they needed to go check out the latest DJ set.

Now we're sitting comfortably on the plushy chairs with a gigantic glass of gin decorated with frozen berries, mint leaves and a slice of passion fruit, trying to hear one another over the pulsing music.

"You look so beautiful," Poppy shouts when she leans forward with a straw in her mouth.

I made an extra effort tonight. The ruche midi dress clings to my every curve and the spaghetti straps show off my collarbones that Poppy had dusted with a shimmer powder when she did my makeup before coming out tonight.

I personally love the deep red lipstick she painted on my lips to match the warm reds and orange tones in the cosmic print of the dress. Not forgetting my hair that she straightened out and tied into a low bun with a razor edge middle parting.

I feel beautiful.

I hold out my gin glass to cheers her before taking a long sip. "Thank you, babe."

Smiling at me, she reaches over to squeeze my hand, then studies my face. "So, I need all the gossip. You weren't really in a sharing mood earlier in the makeup room."

I laugh. "What do you want to know?"

This pleases her no end as she gulps her drink as if to prepare herself for all the talking she's about to do. "Is he good in bed?"

I knew this question was coming from the comments about his body earlier when she perfected my winged liner. I use the straw to dig out a raspberry, squeezing my face up when it tastes bitter. "I don't know. We haven't had sex yet."

Her face resembles mine, as if she just put the raspberry in her mouth too. "But you stay over at his house all the time. Do you sleep in the same bed?"

I crunch on an ice cube this time. "Yeah, we just cuddle."

"You just cuddle?" she says, repeating my words, like the thought is alien to her.

"Yes." It doesn't mean I haven't thought of all the ways he can do me into next week, though.

She frowns at the guy who just pushed past her seat, causing her to wobble around. She looks back to me once she's righted herself. "Does he spoon you?"

I think about it, remembering every time he stiffens and rolls away from me when I follow after him. "I think he struggles with intimacy. It doesn't come naturally to him all the time."

I have to control my need to give affection. I'm that person who will cling to you in bed, smelling your hair, kissing your face until you turn over so I can curl into you.

"Do you think they cuddled him as a child?" she says, tipping her head back to drain the last of her drink.

I shrug. "I presume so, I mean his family seem very touchy-feely with each other."