Page 52 of Speechless

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“What’s goingon with Lucy and Jayce?” I’ve seen Graham in one of the recording rooms for the last hour but he's finally taking a break, so I jump at the chance to talk to him.

“What? Nothing’s going on with them. Henry, are you getting paranoid?”

“She said her plans for tonight were to get drunk with Jayce and learn to play the bongos. Don't tell me I’m paranoid.”

I know she and Jayce spend a decent amount of time together. I’ve heard them talk about their hikes with Rowan and I’ve kept my jealousy at bay, but making plans to get drunk together?

Now I’m wondering if Lucy thinks I’m too dull for her; I rarely have more than a glass of wine or cocktail. I explained to her why I avoid substances that cloud my brain, but even if she’s understanding it doesn’t mean she won’t consider me a bore compared to someone like Jayce.

“Henry, calm down. Lucy hangs out with all of us. I’m probably the only one who’s seen her topless, but who knows?” I feel rage brewing in me at his comment and my face must match the feeling. I’ve never seen Graham look scared before. “Okay, sorry mate, wrong thing to say, just messing with you. Please don’t murder me.”

“I don’t care if she wants to spend time with everyone else in this house. I’m worried because it’s Jayce, and alcohol, and we both know what he’s like.”

“Charming?” Graham is really testing me right now. “Henry, there’s nothing going on with them. I promise you. Didn’t he just say last night he’s been hanging out with that Crystal chick? Plus, Lucy is not interested in him like that, not even a little. If he tries anything, she’ll shut him down immediately. I’d quite like to see it actually.”

My mind is spinning. What if he did try something? Maybe I should join them, say I need a night off from work. Jayce would see right through me, he’s never seen me drink as an activity before. Maybe I could make an excuse to use the piano in the living room? At least that way I could have eyes on them if they’re outside by the pool. Bongos? Did he really offer to teach her the bongos or is that a euphemism that I pray I never discover the meaning of?

“Henry, I can actually see the hamster wheel turning in your head. Let this go, donotspy on them. Lucy’s a big girl, she’s been stressed about her book, she can get drunk with her friend for a night, okay?”

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It’s 11:25.I haven’t gone upstairs in three hours, terrified of what I might find. Is it possible Lucy is interested in Jayce? I’ve seen his effect on women, how easy it is for him to flirt, to date them for as long as he chooses to. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him rejected. He’s always the one to break their hearts, never the other way around.

I’m trying to work, but I just keep playing the same notes over and over, and they sound menacing. In my head, it’s the soundtrack to me strangling Jayce and ripping off each of his limbs. Actually, maybe this is usable. I remember a dismemberment scene in the script—something at the end of episode two . . .

“That sounds spoooooky.” I turn to find Lucy stumbling quite clumsily down the stairs. She’s sporting a wide grin and I wonder who it’s for.

“Hello there. Where’s Jayce?”

“Well, Jayce..ss..ss.” She lingers on the end of his name like she's a snake before continuing, “Decided to ditch me for his hot date. I guess my Crystal plan worked. He supplies me with numerous tequila shots, and then leaves me here to go to The Bungalow. Hmph.” She doesn’t seem angry but her words give me pause. Is she upset he left to be with another woman?

“Lucy, come sit down. You seem a bit wobbly.” She giggles as she attempts to repeat “a bit wobbly” with a horrendous English accent several times. Eventually she lets me help her onto the futon. I sit down beside her and brush several pieces of hair out of her face. She looks like she may have taken a tumble.

“You’re pretty.” She says it as she stares straight into my eyes. I scoff and offer a mild “thank you.”

“No, like really pretty. You’re like so beautiful it’s not even fair. How am I supposed to look at you every day? Are men even allowed to have lashes that long? And your cheekbones,come on.” I know she’s inebriated, very inebriated, but I can’t help but enjoy the compliment. I’ve never been told I’m unattractive but hearing these words from her feels like I’ve won some sort of prize. She hiccups quite audibly into my face but doesn’t seem to notice.

“Okay, Luce, I think maybe you’ve had a few too many. Let’s get you to bed, eh?” I fold an arm around her waist to help her up. I’m debating just tossing her over my shoulder at this point.

“Mmm.” She hums as she leans into me and wraps herself around my chest. “You smell good too. And you’re so warm. How are you always so warm? Are you a werewolf?” She looks up at me, eyes wide as saucers. Was that a serious question? She’s clinging to me like some sort of woodland creature. I’m pretty sure if I stand she'll still be attached. I so want to kiss her, but I know it’s not the right time. I could never take advantage of her in this vulnerable state, no matter how badly I may want to.

“Lucy, how about you lie down, sleep down here, okay? Want me to play you a song? I might be able to whip up a lullaby if I really put my mind to it.”

“Nooooo.” She clings harder. “Stay here, your shirt’s soft.” Another hiccup. She all but forces me down to use my chest as a pillow.

I know I should leave, should peel her perfect little hands off of me and leave her be. If only I were a stronger man. I lie back and start running my hand through her hair before I can think better of it.

I remember the first time we shared this bed together. I was terrified of getting too close to her, worried I’d scare her away with even the briefest touch. But at some point in the middle of the night she reached for me. I’m sure it wasn’t intentional, maybe she was just cold, but I remember waking to her arm draped over my chest, her hair tickling my skin. What I would give to lie with her like this every night. Once she starts to snore I finally close my eyes and let myself enjoy her drunken embrace.

23

Lucy

Today is a good day,a really good day. All the guys are taking a break from work to go to the beach, Adamma is here, and I’ve been splitting my time between hanging with her at the pool and in the kitchen making a special family dinner: fajitas—because I discovered they’re Henry’s favorite.

“Almost done!” Adamma yells over the blender. She’s making me her famous hangover cure which only sounds mildly disgusting. I know I drank way too much last night, but I don’t feel horrible, probably because I seem to have gotten a lot of sleep. I was a bit surprised to wake up on the futon again, but at least I was alone this time. Henry told me how I came down to the studio last night and drunkenly asked him to play me a lullaby, and once I passed out, he figured it best to leave me there. I must have spent all night dreaming of snuggling with him, because I could not get the image out of my head this morning.

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