Page 36 of Beautiful Life

“Yes, it will,” I agree, as I trip over my own feet moving around the posh outdoor furniture. Why are you always ten times more drunk after you stand? Being drunk and sitting is way easier.

I call my goodnights to everyone and stumble to our room. My phone rings as I’m pulling out my key card. Sliding my finger across the screen I answer on a breath. “Hey.”

“I didn’t freak you out, did I? You know I was joking,” Tony says in a rush.

“What are you talking about?”

“When I wrote ‘sex’ instead of ‘six’. I regretted it the second I hit send. I don’t want to pressure you.”

“See?” I say with meaning. “This is what we need to talk about.”

“What do we need to talk about?”

“Shit! I dropped my key card,” I slur, because I did. I dropped my key card.

“You okay?”

“I’m good. Oops, the arrow’s the wrong way, hang on.” I have to turn the card around so the little arrow goes in first.

“Gem, are you trashed?”

“Got it. I’m in!” I exclaim.

“Sweetheart, how much did you drink?”

“I dunno.” That’s not a lie. I really can’t remember. “Hey, can you hang on?”

“Sure,” I hear through the phone. I can even hear him smile. I sigh, because listening to Tony smile is really, really nice.

“Okay, don’t go anywhere. I’ll be back.”

I don’t give him a chance to respond. I toss my phone to the bed because I really have to go to the bathroom. I don’t care how long I’ve been sleeping with Tony or that he has had his hand down my pants and given me two orgasms. I’m not taking the phone into the bathroom with me.

I take care of my business, give my face and teeth a quick wash and head back to my suitcase. I dig to the bottom and find what I’m looking for. I’ve been strong and haven’t used it yet. But not tonight. Tonight, I need it. I unearth Tony’s soft, worn Washburn Law t-shirt I snuck into my suitcase when he wasn’t looking. I slip off my maxi dress, kick off my flip flops and pull his tee over my head. It smells like him—or his laundry anyway—but feels even better as it falls over my bare body.

Crawling up my bed, I claim my phone. “I stole your t-shirt.”

Silence.

Wow. I really didn’t think he would mind. Maybe I shouldn’t have fessed up.

“Tony?”

Finally, I hear his voice dip, “You took my shirt?”

“What’s the big deal? You’re always shoving a shirt at me to wear to bed no matter where we sleep.” This is sort of pissing me off. “Good grief, I’ll give it back.”

“Calm down. You just surprised me. That means you thought you’d miss me and I’m pleased as hell you thought you’d miss me. But I’ve got to say, sweetheart, it’s good to hear you vexed.”

“I’m not vexed.”

“Gem. You are and I like it.”

“Well that’s just crazy. Why would you like it?”

“We’ll talk about that another time. I want to talk about what you wanted to talk about before that you made me wait an age on the phone while you took care of your shit. What was that about?”

“I don’t remember,” I answer honestly.

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