Page 59 of All Superheroes Need PR
“What the fuck?” I hiss.
“Rollo, you okay?” She calls me by the name she calls me when she’s really happy. I’m not gonna fuck this night up with talk of the impossible, because what’s going on with my hands is impossible. Forgetting what I told Emily, I grab the nail file from under Vanessa’s bathroom sink and grunt, “Yeah, just taking a shit.”
“Thanks for the info.” She laughs.
Frantic, I take the file to my hand and start sawing away, except ... the file breaks in half on the second pass. What the fuck is happening to me?
I need answers before I bring this to Vanessa. Solutions. Because what’s not gonna fucking happen? I’m the hero now. I’ve got the girl, and I’m not gonna scare her away by telling her that I can’t fucking touch her.
I angry text a picture to Emily, like this is her fault. And bless the damn woman, she texts me back right away. I open my messages and frown, hating her response enough to break my phone in half.
Either tell Vanessa or make up an excuse—either way, don’t touch her!
If I hadn’t just snapped my phone in two like Nessa’s nail file,Fuck you, is what I’d have texted Emily back.
Chapter EighteenVanessa
“He took the couch again,” I whisper.
“Again? Hasn’t it been four nights?”
“I know. And I thought ... after our dinner ... he sort of promised. But then, nothing.”
“Has he kissed you?”
Oh yeah. Yes. Definitely. A lot. The memory of what he did to me yesterday in the kitchen definitely takes center stage in my thoughts. Up on the island, legs spread, his mouth and lips ravaging the space between them ...
“I’ll take that look on your face as a yes.” Margerie squeals.
I sigh heavily, having just explained all this to Margerie at the tail end of our one-on-one in the COE offices, trying to get the photo shoot organized with Monika now that the Wyvern has his hair cut and his purple suit tailored to fit.
“Yes, but he won’t sleep with me in the bed.” Or sleep with me, period. He hasn’t let me touch him for the last three days. I did go down on him ... and I thought it had been great. But then after, he saw that he’d scratched my shoulder on accident, and since then, nothing. Kissing, sure. He wanted to touch me yesterday, but I evaded, feeling uncomfortable. Like ... I’d done something wrong before. Maybe Iwas ... bad? I wanted to ask ... but was too ashamed. And I certainly wasn’t going to tell Margerie any of that.
Margerie stands up, clutching her laptop to her chest. She claps her free hand down on my shoulder. “I’m not going to lie to you. This is all insane, and you are valid in your feelings of insanity.” But then her hand falls down to my shoulder blade, and she rubs it soothingly, and she gets the strangest expression I’ve ever seen on her. She’s giggly. Like she’s fighting back hysterics. Her touch is comforting—consoling, even—but her face is about to erupt in shrieks.
“What? What is it? Did I do something wrong? Tell me, Margerie! I can do the taxes for a billion-dollar company in my sleep, but I don’t get boys. You know I’m not good at this stuff.”
She’s shaking her head, all but wagging it. Then her lips split to reveal her grin. Her eyes are shining. “Youlikehim.”
I shake my head. “What?”
“Youlikehim. And he clearly likes you back if he’s proposing marriage twenty minutes into your first date.”
I snort. “It’s ... he was kidding. It was a joke.”
“Was it?”
“Of course.”
“If you have questions, don’t evade. Isn’t that what you two talked about? Being open?”
“You think I should ask him what’s with the bed?”
“Yes, of course. Don’t let him make you feel bad. You said that he’s gonna try harder for you, but baby girl, you’ve also got to help him. He’s not a mind reader, and if he’s making you feel bad sometimes, he might not know it. He’s human too. Or, well. Sort of. And he’s in love with you. He’ll fix it if you tell him there’s a problem.”
“Love?” I shriek. “Are you insane?”
She holds up her hands in defense, her laptop a shield. “I’m not going to convince you. I’m here to go over the schedule for Forty-Eight Day and the photo shoot at the old airport. But you’re not the only one who needs to see this. Shandra wants another go at the fabric. Shethinks she can get the tigereye gradient in the purple color you were hoping for in time for Forty-Eight Day. It’ll look really good against the airport museum backdrop.
