Page 29 of Make Me Laugh

I turn off the water, dry myself off, and do all my normal bathroom things—brush my teeth and hair, shave my morning stubble.

With the towel strung low across my hips, I slide the barn style bathroom door and jump when Enzo’s voice greets me immediately.

“That was the longest shower you’ve ever taken. I thought about coming in there and checking on you at one point.” He’s sitting on the edge of the bed in the exact spot I had Joey bent over only a few hours ago. Enzo’s gaze trails my body. “Good night?” he asks with a smug smirk, noting the scratch marks left behind.

“Dude, what the fuck?” My heart races from his unexpected intrusion. “Why do you always gotta break in?” I say nothing about where he’s sitting on the bed—he’s not stupid. He knows what went down here last night. The room smells like sex and Joey.

Enzo shrugs, already dressed and ready for the day. “I didn’t have to this time. I flirted with the front desk agent, and he finally gave me a key when I was able to prove I knew West Parker. He’s a fan.” He pauses. “We’re going to need to stop booking under your name, actually.”

I look over my bare torso in the floor length mirror, my eyes landing on the hickeys around my collarbone. I suppress a chill at the memory of Joey’s mouth on me. “I’m almost ready. What time is it?”

Enzo checks his watch. “9:48.”

I have no idea what time I fell asleep this morning, but I couldn’t have slept for more than three or four hours. “Then you’re in here rushing me, why?” Check out isn’t for over an hour.

Enzo looks at me like a fish out of water while I slip into a clean pair of boxers, letting my towel drop once they’re on. He’s not reacting to me changing in front of him—we both played sports and grew up in locker rooms. He shuts his mouth and glances around the room. “Where’s your phone?”

Actually, that’s a good question. I don’t see it in any of the normal spots. “I have no idea.”

Last night’s clothes are all accounted for—except for the shirt I can’t find anywhere. The weight of my pants is too light for my phone to be stashed in a pocket, and I’m beginning to wonder when the last time I’d even seen it was, but I find it halfway under the bed after a couple minutes of pacing the hotel room.

Enzo stays quiet the entire time, which puts me on edge.

“You’re freaking me out,” I admit with a laugh, but when my phone screen lights up, the sound gets caught in my throat. I’m visually assaulted with notifications, my eyes going wide. I’ve got close to seventy texts, twenty-nine missed calls, and all my social media apps sent alerts with wording similar to each other.

You’ve got 1,000+ notifications!

You’ve got 999+ new followers!

“Yeah, I thought that’s what your face would look like.” Enzo draws my attention away from the screen. “Someone posted a video of your show last night around 2:00 a.m, and it’s currently sitting at two-million views on a single platform.”

I think my jaw unhinges. “What?”

My phone feels heavy in my hand as I click the top notification. It takes me seconds to find the video in question. It's shot from center stage, maybe the table over from where Joey and Frankie sat.

“She looks like she’d make me crawl to her,” I hear myself say, and then the video cuts to Joey, her arms crossed across her chest, the eye roll she gives clear enough to see.

My first reaction is, fuck yeah, me and Joey baby going viral, but the next hits me like a Mack truck. Oh no.

I’m on my knees. “And baby, I would if you wanted.” It doesn’t show the girl in the front row interrupting, but it doesn’t miss me telling her, “Mommy and Daddy” are talking.

It catches the first Joey baby and the crowd’s reaction, my face when I hear her follower count, and fast forwards to me jumping off stage.

It shows all the moments I’ve been replaying in my head since last night.

Me standing over Joey.

Her calf brushing my inner thigh.

Me saying, “I thought you looked a lot like my future wife.”

It cuts to the end where I literally sound like I purr, “Joey, you dirty, dirty girl.”

The video restarts, and I don’t know what to do next. I swallow.

Holy fucking shit…

I start reading the most liked and top comments.