“What would you do if you were me?” I asked, biting my cheek as I waited.
“I’d do what felt right.”
I snorted. “We all know I have a problem deciding what’s right and what’s wrong.”
“No you don’t,” she said, and she sounded so sincere that I believed her. “You know right from wrong, it’s just that your methods of exacting justice are sometimes a little cutthroat.”
I sat up all of a sudden. “Why are you being so nice to me?” I asked.
She laughed. “I have no idea. Just thought you could use a friend, and Lynn’s not here.”
“Well, thanks for checking in.”
“You’re welcome.” I heard her kids in the background. “I have to go,” she said, and then she hung up without waiting for a response.
I stared at my phone, my heart doing that curious little tickle it did when I saw Will, but now it was in response to her taking the time to call and check on me. It was weird, having a connection to someone who wasn’t Lynn or one of her friends.
I changed into my pajamas, switched my contacts for my glasses, and went to the kitchen. I put the food away, and transferred the two desserts to two small plates, and I got two forks out of the silverware drawer. Then I heard Will come in through the back door, the click of little paws the only sound aside from his loud exhalation. “Jesus,” he said.
I looked over my shoulder at him. I’d taken my contacts out, so I had my glasses on, and I could see him just fine. “What?” I asked.
“When I suggested you go and change clothes, I assumed you’d come back wearing some.” His eyes lingered on my butt.
I looked down at my boy shorts and t-shirt. “This is the only pair of pajamas I have.” I looked down again. “Do I need to go change?”
His eyes dragged down my body again. “Not on my account.”
“You said to get comfortable.”
He nodded. “I did.”
“So I did.”
He nodded again, his grin growing even wider. “You did.”
I took a bite of the best chocolate cake I’d ever put in my mouth, and I moaned around the fork before I could even pull it from my lips. “That’s good,” I muttered with my mouth full.
“I could watch you do that all day,” he admitted, not sheepishly at all.
“Do what?” I asked, confused.
“Eat. Talk. Breathe.” He shrugged and chuckled. “You name it, I want to watch you do it.”
I hitched a hip against the counter. “You like me, huh?” I said with a grin tugging at my lips.
“If you haven’t figured it out, Shelly, I more than like you,” he said, as he walked by me toward his bedroom. “What do you want to watch?” he called from down the hallway.
“I don’t care,” I called back, and I followed him to his room.
I climbed up on his bed and leaned back against his spare pillow. I set both the plates of dessert in front of me. “Which one do you want?” I asked.
He unbuttoned his dress shirt and shrugged out of it, leaving him in a clean white t-shirt. He toed off his shoes and I watched as he unbuttoned his slacks, turning his back as he shoved them down over his hips toward the floor, leaving him in a pair of striped boxers. His keys jangled in his pocket as they fell to the carpet. I licked my lips and stared into his eyes, which were zeroed in on mine.
“Are we watching the movie in here?” he asked, as he went to the bathroom to wash the tiny smear of blue paint from his forehead.
“Unless you don’t want to,” I called to him.
“No, it’s fine,” he called back. “Just didn’t want you to think I was trying to get you into my bed.”
“What if I want you to try to get me into your bed?” I called back, heat suffusing my face even though I knew I had no reason to be embarrassed. Lust was a bodily function, just like sweat and a rapid heartbeat. It was elemental. It was nothing to be bashful about.
He came back and jumped onto the bed, bouncing the plates of dessert almost into my lap. I grabbed for them and came back with chocolate on my thumb. I lifted it to my lips, but he grabbed my wrist and dragged it to his mouth. He sucked the pad of my thumb between his lips, his tongue rasping against the tender underside.
My mouth fell open and I couldn’t control the heat that stole across my skin. He let go of my wrist like he was passing my thumb back to me, but I couldn’t move. He picked up the remote. “What do you want to watch?” he asked.
“What?” I replied, still staring at my thumb.
He went to the pay channels and navigated toward the list of available shows.
He laughed and leaned toward me, close but not close enough to touch me. “What do you want to watch?” he asked again, laughter in his tone. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you speechless.” He chuckled again. Then he stole my fork and took a bite of the cheesecake. “The chocolate was better,” he said, his mouth full.
I sat, still stunned, as he chose a movie and queued it up. He lifted his arm and motioned for me to move closer. “If you want to,” he said.
I wanted to. I so desperately wanted to.
I just didn’t know how.
Chapter 32
Clark
She didn’t even look like herself in that moment. It was almost like I’d cracked her open and left her wounded and vulnerable, and she didn’t know what to do with her emotions. She stared at my arm, which I still held up, waiting for her to slide into that space where I knew she would fit just fine. She stared at it like she didn’t know what to do with it, and then her brow creased. I lowered my arm and laid my hand on my thigh. It was all I could do to keep from reaching for her, but I didn’t. Instead, I waited, letting her take the lead.
She turned and adjusted pillows behind her so she could lean back against the headboard. “What are we watching?” she asked quietly as she stretched her legs out in front of her.
I handed her the remote. “You pick.” She took the remote from me, her hand shaking ever so slightly. “Do you feel like popcorn? I can go make some.”
“Sure,” she said, not really paying any attention to me as she scrolled through the movie listing.
I got up and went to microwave some popcorn, thinking about where I’d gone wrong. I’d opened my arms, hoping she would fall into them. Shelly wasn’t the type of woman that fell into any man’s arms, but fuck if I didn’t want her to fall into mine. I wanted her to fall into my arms and stay there.
My home phone rang and I looked at the handset on the counter. “Hello,” I said, when I saw MeeMaw’s number on the screen.
“Willy,” MeeMaw said breathlessly.
“MeeMaw? What’s wrong?”
“Nothing is wrong,” she said, sucking in deep gulps of air. “Your Aunt Edna made me take a walk around the block. There’s an octogenarian that lives two streets over that she has her eyes on. I’m old and winded, that’s all.”
“Oh.” The painful grip that had clenched my chest eased ever so slightly. “So, did you help her snag him?”
She made a pffft sound and I could see her in my mind’s eye waving a dismissive hand in the air. “The man was all money and no personality. She can do better.” She sniffed. “How’s it going there? Did you find Megan yet?”
“Not yet.”
MeeMaw made a quiet humming sound. “And Shelly?” she asked. “Shelly’s okay?”
“Shelly’s fine. We just got back from dinner. We’re about to watch a movie.”
“Is that what they’re calling it now? Watching a movie?” She made a curious little chuckling sound in her throat. “Netflix and chill?”
“Meemaw,” I chided gently, but I was smiling. “Get your mind out of the gutter.”
“Well,” she said, “I just wanted to remind you to use a condom.” She snorted on a giggle, and then she full out laughed until she couldn’t catch her breath.
“MeeMaw!” I said, trying to sound like I was appalled at her gall. But I wasn’t appalled. On the day I’d turned sixte
en and gotten behind the wheel of my first car all alone, I’d found a box of condoms on the passenger seat. And every time the box—which I’d stuffed in my glove box, my face burning with embarrassment—had almost been empty, it had miraculously been replenished. MeeMaw wasn’t a prude, by any stretch of the imagination. We’d had condom talks more than once. “We’re not there yet, MeeMaw,” I informed her.
“Oh,” she said, sounding like she was deflating a little. “Well, when you are, check your glove box. I filled it up last week.”
“MeeMaw,” I said on a heavy wince, “I can buy my own condoms.”
“Whatever,” she replied. “I have to go. Edna wants to walk to the bingo hall tomorrow, so I need to rest up. We have a perfectly good car in the driveway. I can’t understand why she wants to walk.”
“Have fun, MeeMaw. I love you.”
“Tell Shelly I said hi, will you? I do like that girl.”
“I’ll tell her.” I smiled as MeeMaw hung up.
I looked up to find Shelly standing in the doorway of the kitchen. “Everything okay?” she asked.
I showed her the phone that was still in my hand. “MeeMaw called.”
Shelly’s brow furrowed. “Is she okay?”
“She’s fine. Aunt Edna is forcing her to get out and walk some. It’s making her a little crazy.”
“Did I hear you talking about condoms?” Shelly asked.
My face immediately flushed with heat. “Um…” I scratched the end of my nose, but then I laughed out loud, because there was no way around it. I had to tell her, since she’d probably heard my half of the conversation. “Yeah.”
“Wait.” She grinned, pointing a finger at me. “MeeMaw buys your condoms?”
“No,” I began, but Shelly’s grin caught me off guard. “Well, sort of.” I looked down at the floor and breathed “Fuck!” very quietly.
Shelly’s eyebrows rose up toward her forehead.
“It’s kind of a running joke,” I stumbled to explain. “I mean…of course I can and do buy my own condoms. But MeeMaw sometimes buys a box and puts them in my glove box. As a running joke.” Well, sometimes it was a joke. Sometimes it was a reminder. Sometimes it was just to get on my fucking nerves.
Shelly laughed. “I can’t believe your MeeMaw buys you condoms.”
“Believe it. She’s one of a kind.” Or at least I hoped so. “She said to tell you hello.”
“Tell her I said hi the next time she calls, will you?”
I nodded as I pulled the hot bag of popcorn out of the microwave and dumped it into a bowl. Then I followed Shelly back to the bedroom, watching her ass sway in those teeny-tiny shorts. She climbed back onto my bed, settling against the pillows propped on the headboard. “Did you pick a movie?”
“Yeah. Press play.”
I picked up the remote and pressed play. She’d picked the latest action flick, which was one I’d been wanting to see. “Lights on or off?” I asked.
“Off,” she said, so I reached over and switched off the bedside lamp as the opening credits began.
I laid a pillow in my lap and patted it. “Want to lie on me?”
I nearly died when she accepted the offer, and she gently laid her head on the pillow, her palm tucked under her cheek. And every time something happened in the movie, she would grip my thigh or jerk against my lap, and I nearly died again. And again. And again. And when she rolled to look up at me after the credits played, and said, “Thank you for the great night,” I felt something shift inside me. It was something tangible, yet I couldn’t touch it. It was something real, but I couldn’t define it. It was something I’d never felt before with anyone. It was all Shelly. She yawned and closed her eyes.
I threaded my fingers through the hair at her temple and very quietly asked, “Is this all right?” She nodded her head and made a mewling sound in her throat, and when I knew she was more than half asleep, I took a deep breath, reached over, and my hand shook a little as I reached into my bedside table and pulled out the gift I’d put there earlier.
I’d spent almost an hour looking for the right thing for Shelly. I’d gone to two jewelry stores, but I couldn’t find the perfect thing. We’d been talking about the necklace that she’d loved to borrow from Lynn for all the wrong reasons. Then I’d seen it. I’d walked by a craft store and, right there in the window, I’d seen the perfect present for Shelly. There, leaning in the store window, was a kids’ friendship bracelet kit, the kind with the strands that you have to thread together. I’d spent the whole afternoon locked in my office making the damn thing. I’d picked blue to match her eyes, and I’d woven it with whites and pinks, because I knew Shelly wore pink a lot. It had a couple of lumps in the threads where I’d made mistakes while braiding, but I didn’t think Shelly would mind. It was a stupid present, and she would probably take it off as soon as she woke up, but I still put it on her wrist for her to find in the morning.
I took Shelly’s glasses off her face and laid them on the bedside table. Then I scooted Shelly off my lap and up onto the pillows at the head of the bed, and then I wrapped my arms around her and pulled her into the crook of my body. She made a little noise as she settled against me, but she didn’t try to pull away. I took that as encouragement, and I brushed her hair down between us and held her close, and I wondered why the fuck this felt so right. No answers came to me. Not a single one.
Chapter 33
Shelly
I woke up to find myself alone in Will’s bed. I reached back to find the place behind me still warm, so he had to have just gotten up. The sound of running water filtered from the crack in the bathroom door.
I sat up and brushed my hair back from my face. I’d slept with Will. Like slept with him slept with him. I didn’t fuck him. I slept in the same bed with him wrapped around me all night. I’d woken once during the night, slick with sweat where our bodies were pressed together. I’d rolled away, but he’d pulled me back against him with a protest and a heavy breath against my neck. He’d pressed his lips to my shoulder, and I’d liked it. No, I’d loved it. I’d loved it so much that I’d stayed there, stuck to him, wondering why I’d never done this before. But I knew the answer. It was because I’d never met Will before. I wasn’t sure I could ever do this with anyone else. I was pretty sure I didn’t want to.
I lifted my arms to brush my hair back again, and I noticed brightly colored thread against my skin. I reached for my glasses on the bedside table and pulled them on. I ran my finger under the brightly colored bracelet, tugging on it gently. It was secured to my wrist with a sturdy plastic catch.
I picked up my phone, which I’d left on the bedside table last night, and I snapped a quick picture of the bracelet. Then I texted it to Aubrey really quickly with a message that said:
Me: Help! Do you know what this thing is?
Her: (After a pause that seemed to last forever) A friendship bracelet? Where’d you get it?
Me: I woke up and it was on my wrist.
Her: Aww. Not going to lie, that’s pretty sweet.
Me: Why is it sweet? I don’t understand.
Her: It’s a token of affection.
Me: Why do I need a token?
Her: I have no idea. But if I had to guess, he was trying to tell you that he likes you.
Me: He likes me?
Her: Yes. Probably. I don’t know. Why don’t you ask him?
Me: Okay. Thanks.
My hand shook as I laid my phone down. I didn’t know what to do or how to act. I brushed my hair back from my face and tried to think.
My phone pinged again.
Her: Ask him!
I jumped up and walked toward the bathroom. He was in the shower. I could see his silhouette through the frosted glass. He hummed a little tune with his face upturned toward the spray.
I opened the shower door.
He startled, but he didn’t move away. “Jesus,” he said. “You scared the shit out of me.”
I lifted my wrist into the air. “What the fuck is thi
s?” My voice was louder than I’d wanted it to be, but I didn’t understand it. And I desperately wanted to.
He smiled, turning his face back toward the spray so he could wash the soap from his head. “It’s a bracelet.” His words were garbled by the falling water, which ran into his mouth and down his chin as he spoke.
“What’s it for?”
He turned and started to wash behind his ear. “It’s a gift.” He moved back a little from the spray. His brow wrinkled. “You don’t like it?”
I looked down at it. It was pretty. “What does it mean?” I asked.
“It’s a friendship bracelet.” His brow wrinkled again. “I know it’s probably stupid…” he said, his voice wary. “You can take it off.”
I wrapped my palm and fingers down the length of the bracelet. Then I rolled it on my wrist. “I don’t want to take it off. I just wanted to know what it meant.”
“The blue is the same color as your eyes. And you wear pink a lot, and I like the way it looks on you. And the white is just to break up the two colors. I know it’s not perfect. I spent the whole afternoon making it.”
My heart skipped a beat. “You made it?”
He blew water from his lips again. “Yep. Again, if you don’t like it, you can take it off.”
“Does it mean we’re friends?”
“Something like that.” His voice was quieter than before.
“I need you to be more specific.” I began to tap my bare toes on the floor. Then I forced myself to stop, and I lifted the bracelet in front of his face. “What does it mean?” I practically growled.
Instead of answering me again, he reached out and grabbed me, pulling me into the shower with him, jerking me against his body. “You are really something else,” he said close to my ear when he had me fully in the shower, pressed against him. Water soaked through my clothes, warm against my skin.
“I’m sorry I’m so frustrating.” I bit my next words back, because I didn’t know how to share my feelings. I didn’t even know what my feelings were.
What She Forgot Page 16