Page 99 of Corkscrew You
Max has been channel surfing. “Die Hard!” he says. “Awesome!”
“No fucking way,” says Ava. “We get thateveryChristmas.”
Mom, conceding defeat, shakes her head. She’s taken the other comfortable chair, Izzy’s perched on the arm of Max’s, and Danny and Ava have pulled up the beanbags. The Durant clan hasn’t crammed into the TV room like this since … well, the last Christmas we were all together, probably watchingDie Hard. I don’t want to count how many years ago that was. Too many will do.
All that’s missing is Dad. But I’m with Ava about his behaviour tonight. If he insists on pushing us away, then let him. He can stew in his own bitterness upstairs, alone.
Ava has the remote now. Max never stood a chance.
“If you pickSeabiscuit, I’ll hold a cushion over your face,” Danny threatens her.
“If it were up to you, bro,” Ava retorts, “we’d be watchingThe Fast and the Furious, one through however many of those shit films they made.”
She lands onGhostbusters. Family favourite. Good choice.
“Ilovethis movie,” says Shelby.
She has a cookie in one hand and a glass of bourbon in the other. She is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
I put my mouth up to her ear, and whisper, “I love you.”
Then I add, “My room’s first on the right up the stairs.”
She turns and gives me anAre you kidding?look. But then I nuzzle her neck, and hear her quiet sighs of desire, until she gets embarrassed, and pulls away.
I grin, and return to eating my longhorn wedged between two slices of rye. Tonight has been seriously weird and uncomfortable. But I’m pretty sure, it’s about to get awholelot better.
ChapterThirty-Three
SHELBY
Ava and Izzy kit me out with spare girly pajamas dug out of a drawer, plus a towel, toothbrush – “Unused, we swear” – and toothpaste. They show me to a guest bedroom, which, I’m very glad to see, has an ensuite bathroom. In my family, we never shut the bathroom door, but we knew each other very well, and didn’t mind nudity. I don’t know this family well at all. Except Nate, of course. I have seenhimnaked.
Speaking of, he wants me to come to his room later. But should I? He needs rest, not potentially strenuous physical activity. And his whole family, whom, did I mention, I hardly know, will be sleeping nearby. What if I get caught tiptoeing down the hallway? What if I get lost and knock on the wrong door? Who theheckhas affairs, when sneaking around is so stressful?
I toss the world’s surplus of pillows onto the floor, lie on top of the bed, and stare at a painting of a greyhound. It’s very lean, which makes me think of Nate, naked, and that fantastic muscle definition he has. I recall how it felt running my hands over his chest and down his washboard abs and—
OK, looks like I’ll be sneaking down the hallway. Good thing I hadn’t quite got into my jim-jams yet. They’re blue with horses on them. Three guesses whose they used to be.
I listen for signs of life in the hallway. It’s quiet. Holding my breath, I open the door and peer quickly out. No one. Nate’s room is that-a way. Everyone cross your fingers. I’m on the move.
First on the right. My heart is pounding and it’s been all of twenty seconds. I don’t want to knock … tooloud. So I try the door. It opens. If this is the wrong room, I’m going to beseriouslyembarrassed.
In the soft light of a bedside lamp, I see Nate sitting on the edge of the bed. He opens his arms, and for the second time in a few hours, I straddle his lap, and plant my mouth on his. Oh, my. The man reallydoesknow how to kiss.
“You’re not to overdo it,” I manage to say, in between.
“Sure.”
He answers but he’s not listening. His eyes are black with desire, and his hands are lifting up my shirt. I give up trying to sound a note of caution and help him remove my shirt and bra. He whips his T-shirt off over his head, and there are those muscles. Bet he knows the technical names for all of those, too. We might have a lesson later.
Right now, though, I need to be in the moment. Nate’s mouth is on my breasts, paying close attention to each nipple, until I think I’m going to have to make some noise.
He lifts his head and kisses me, but the tactic is only partially successful. I’m insane with lust right now, and not exactly in my right, cautious mind.
“Shh,” he murmurs. “Seriously, Shel, this house is old and the walls arethin.”
“Who’s next door?” I whisper.
