by Amy Vansant
She opened her mouth to mention the spare toothbrush in the other bathroom, and then remembered she no longer had one.
Sebastian walked to the bedside opposite hers.
“I’m going to sleep in my boxers,” he announced, pausing a moment before undoing his belt and letting his workpants drop to the ground with a jangly thud. His pants slid from his skinny frame as if it had been a strain to stay on his hips.
Emily didn’t say anything. She rolled over and turned off the light on her nightstand.
Sebastian removed his half-unbuttoned work shirt and undershirt and slid into bed beside her.
Emily rolled on her side to face Sebastian. He rolled to face her. He leaned in and kissed her on her forehead.
“Good night,” he said. He reached out and patted her hand.
He patted her hand.
Emily lay there, stunned.
“Good night?” she said.
Two minutes later, she could hear Sebastian’s breathing grow heavy.
He was asleep.
She wanted to scream.
Excuse me, sir, but could I draw your attention to the half-naked girl beside you?
Chapter Twenty
Emily awoke to find a man in her bed.
The kitchen light at the end of the hall provided enough illumination for Emily to confirm she wasn’t alone. She ogled the sleeping Sebastian, her eyes following the curve of his tanned neck and watching his chest rise and fall as he breathed. She liked the little tuft of dark blonde hair on his perky pecs. She liked the little scar on his left cheekbone.
She liked that he was in her bed.
She studied him until it occurred to her that, should he open his eyes and find her staring at him, he was going to freak out.
She looked away and stared at the ceiling. She breathed into her hand and smelled her breath.
Ick.
Emily eased a leg off the bed and to the floor. The old hardwood floor creaked beneath her weight. She froze. Sebastian grunted in his sleep. When he fell still once more, she quickly tiptoed into the hall bathroom, shut the door and turned on the light.
Emily brushed her teeth with the guest toothbrush a second time. She fixed the smeared mascara under her eyes and searched for beauty products in the mirrored cabinet. Nothing. Why had she never thought to keep an emergency beauty kit in the spare bathroom? Sneaking into her en-suite bathroom would mean more creaking floorboards.
Emily pinched her cheeks to raise their color and then bit at her lip, thinking the same trick might apply. She took a step toward the mirror and accidentally kicked the metal trashcan, which clattered to its side and bounced back and forth like an infernal clock pendulum. The noise was horrendous. Emily dove to stop the can from clanging, and clipped her forehead on the sink as she dipped.
The blow sent Emily arching back in the opposite direction, as if Muhammad Ali had just connected an uppercut to her jaw. Her left hand clutched her throbbing forehead, her right slapped across her mouth to stop herself from howling in surprise and pain. Emily stumbled back from the sink, her heel jamming against the tub, clipping her legs from beneath her. Tumbling backwards, she grabbed for the shower curtain to stop her fall, ripping it from the rod with a jangling succession of snapping clasps, punctuated by the hollow thuds of her elbows and head smacking the shower insert.
Emily lay perpendicular across the tub, covered by the shower curtain and rod, her legs over the edge and dangling just above the floor.
“Emily?” called a voice just outside the door.
Emily lifted her chin and smacked the back of her head into the wall a second time. She realized she was out of breath. Who knew trying not to die in a tragic bathroom accident was fantastic exercise? Funny, she’d never seen that workout video.
Emily noticed blush sitting in the tub beside her. She’d forgotten she’d hidden her beauty products in the tub the night before.
“Emily?” called Sebastian again. “Are you okay?”
“I’m fine!” said Emily as cheerily as possible. “I’m sorry I woke you. I... I knocked over something.”
“Uh, okay...”
He sounded dubious. Emily knew, short of pushing a grandfather clock into a pile of china dishes, noises like the one she’d made didn’t exist in nature.
Emily hauled herself out of the tub to the music of clattering plastic clasps. She re-hung the rod and curtain and inspected her head in the mirror. A small egg had already appeared near the hairline of her left temple. She touched it and winced.
She used the makeup in the bathtub to do some rapid maintenance work on both her face and the lump.
Emily righted the trashcan, took one last look in the mirror, and opened the door.
She made her way back to the bedroom to find Sebastian sitting up in bed.
“Decide to do a little home remodeling?” he asked.
Emily laughed. “I fell. I’m sorry if I woke you.”
“No worries. I woke up in a strange house with no idea where I was to the sound of the roof caving in. Happens all the time. You okay?”
Emily nodded and crawled into bed. Sebastian turned on his side to face her.
“Come here,” he said, lifting his arm. “Tuck in.”
Emily turned to her opposite side to spoon with Sebastian. He draped his arm over her and pulled her close to him.
She lay there tucked against him, his hand close to her breasts. She shifted so her right breast would bump against his fingers. It was like dipping bait in the water and waiting for a bite.
She felt a nibble on her neck.
The nibble turned into kisses.
Emily felt Sebastian’s hands slip under her chemise, warm fingers dancing across her nipple. She turned to him and they kissed. Sebastian slid her chemise towards her chest and kissed her belly. He slid his fingers under the hip of her thong, pulling gently so she could feel the tug between her legs. Emily moaned and rolled towards him. She slid her hand down his side, across his hipbone and under the elastic of his boxer briefs.
That’s when the phone rang. Sebastian’s phone.
Emily froze, her fingers barely brushing the base of his erect penis.
“I... I better get that,” said Sebastian, his breathing erratic. He shifted his hips away from Emily and threw one of his long legs over the bed. Emily retracted her hand from his underwear.
Two seconds. Two seconds longer and at least, I would have known what he brought to the party.
“I’ll be right back,” said Sebastian.
“Okay.”
What else could she say?
Emily swallowed, her blood racing. She could feel her chest and neck, flushed and hot with arousal. Her neck always grew splotchy when she was turned on, just like it did when she was embarrassed. Not the sexiest affliction.
Sebastian snatched his discarded pants from the floor, pulling his phone from the pocket as he disappeared into her en-suite bath. Emily lay in bed, staring at the ceiling. No conversation drifted from her bathroom.
Sebastian emerged, wearing his pants.
“I borrowed some mouthwash this time,” he said.
“I’m keeping a list. So far you owe me $4.98.”
“What do you want to do today? I don’t have to work.”
“Uh...” Emily sat up and stared at Sebastian, her eyes tracing every curve and contour of his chest. Several ideas came to mind, all too crude to say aloud.
“I kinda liked what we were doing.”
“Can’t,” said Sebastian running a hand through his hair and looking for his shirt.
Emily tried to read his expression.
Was he kidding?
“Can’t?” she asked.
“Not until I’m out of Greta’s house.”
Emily scrambled to sit higher.
“So you are still dating?”
“No!” said Sebastian, waving his hands in front of him to emphasize his answer. “No, not at all. That’s all been over for more than a month, like I said. It’s just.
..” Sebastian nodded his head from side to side, trying to find the words to finish his sentence.
“You need a clean break first?” prompted Emily.
Sebastian nodded. “Right. It just doesn’t feel right to be here and then be there... It feels kind of creepy, you know?”
“Creepy,” echoed Emily, rolling the word around her brain. “Being with me feels creepy... That has got to be the least flattering thing anyone has ever said to me.”
Sebastian rolled his eyes. “You know what I mean, don’t you?”
Emily released a loud sigh and flopped back down into her pillows.
“Yes. I guess. But I don’t know how you were able to stop.”
“Practice,” muttered Sebastian.
“What? Did you say practice?”
“Nothing,” Sebastian stepped towards her. “It wasn’t easy.” He slid his hand across Emily’s flat stomach and kissed her on the side of the cheek.
“You better cut that out,” she warned.
Sebastian chuckled. “So, what do you want to do today?”
“Besides jump your bones? You don’t have to work?”
“Nope.”
“Well,” she thought for a moment. “I make some mean French toast.”
“Really?”
“Do you like French toast?”
“No.”
They laughed.
“Gosh, we have all day. I’m glad we’re both morning people,” she said. “We have that in common.”
“I’ve always been a morning person. It drives me crazy when people sleep in.”
“Ooh, I know!” said Emily, sitting up again, an idea popping into her head. “We can go out in the boat. Float around, get a tan.”
“Nice. Perfect.”
Sebastian looked at Emily, staring into her eyes.
“But you look hungry,” she said, her voice a whisper.
Sebastian sighed.
“Maybe we should just stay here,” he murmured, tracing her hipbone with his finger.
Emily took a sharp breath.
“Nope! Better get up!” she said, scrambling out of bed. “If you can be strong, so can I!”
Sebastian rolled on to his back and groaned. “I’m an idiot.”
Emily found her cooler and put ice and a jug of iced tea into it. She threw herself into chores to keep from dragging Sebastian back to bed. His plan to start their relationship “right” was romantic, sweet and incredibly frustrating.
While she searched her cabinets for snacks, Sebastian found his cell phone and checked it.
“Nine messages,” he said.
“Nine? Work emergency?”
Sebastian took a closer look. He shook his head and put the phone in his pocket.
“No, nothing important.”
Emily opened her mouth to ask who had called that morning, but she thought she knew. She chose not to invoke that specter.
They took Sebastian’s truck to the dock where Farker the Parker sat, bobbing in the water, patiently waiting for Emily to ram it into something.
They tooled into the Severn River and found a large cove where they could drop anchor and float. Emily pulled a small radio from the storage beneath the steering wheel and turned it to the local alternative station.
“I can’t believe it is so warm,” she said, removing her shirt. She’d spent half the morning deciding which bikini did her cleavage the most justice. She tilted her head back and adopted a sexy sunning pose.
Sebastian sat on the rail of the boat and took his shirt off as well. He crunched, and Emily watched as the skin on his stomach tucked into a dozen rolls of skin, each barely thicker than a pencil; not an ounce of fat on him. She found herself trapped somewhere between aroused and jealous; bastard probably didn’t even diet.
“Yeah, this is perfect,” he said.
Emily peeked at his chest, remembering fondly her head nestled there.
Sebastian’s phone rang. He pulled it from his pocket, glanced at it, hit “ignore” and put it back into his pocket.
Sebastian stretched and rubbed his eyes.
“I shouldn’t be out here,” he said, putting his hands on his hips as he scanned the shoreline. “I should be looking for an apartment. I don’t have time to search on work days.”
“You know,” Emily said, slipping off the rail of the boat and moving to where Sebastian stood. She slipped her arms around his waist. “You could just move into my house.”
Time froze as Emily waited for Sebastian to answer. She felt crazy for even suggesting it. It was much too early in their relationship for him to move into her house, but she couldn’t stop herself from entertaining the idea.
“I can’t do that. I can’t just bounce from one girl’s house to another’s.”
“Oh, I mean in the spare room,” Emily said, pressing herself against him. “I have a guest room for hot, visiting monks.”
Sebastian snickered. He draped his arms around her shoulders.
“Riiight,” he said. “That would work out well. We could station our moms in the hallway to keep us from sneaking into each other’s rooms.”
Emily tilted her head back and Sebastian kissed her.
“And I promise you, I am not a monk,” he added.
“I wish I were taller,” said Emily. At six-two, Sebastian had to hunch to reach her lips.
“I know where you can get another three inches, baby.”
Emily burst into giggles. She must have sensed this silly side, beneath his cool, smoking-guy-at-the-bar exterior. Maybe that was the mysterious connection to him.
“Oh baby,” said Emily.
Sebastian pursed his lips and sucked in his cheeks, aping a male model. “No, I change my mind,” he said in a French accent. “You cannot have me. I am too beautiful.”
“Oh Sebastian,” Emily begged. “Please oh please have pity on me, a poor peasant girl!”
“Alright. I will do this for you,” said Sebastian, wrapping one of his ridiculously long legs around Emily’s body as if he were a monkey and she were a tree. His eyes grew wide and crazy as he moved his hips in an exaggerated sexy motion.
“I’ll fly you to the moon and back in my jet-powered love machine,” he mumbled in his terrible French accent, petting her hair into a tangled mess. Emily felt like she was being leg-humped by a Great Dane, only her whole body was the leg. The more she laughed, the more he poured it on.
“You want to be one with me? You want I should pour a bucket of love potion number ten on you?” he asked, holding her so tightly she could barely breathe.
“I think that’s love potion number nine,” she said.
“No, I’m all out of nine, we’re on ten now.”
Emily and Sebastian tumbled carefully to the deck, rolling like giggling teenagers.
“You’re an idiot,” said Emily.
“You’re an idiot,” said Sebastian.
“No you aaahh,” Emily said in a Boston accent, imitating an old Saturday Night Live skit.
“No you aaahhh,” he echoed, catching the reference.
They were looking at each other, uncontrollable grins on their faces, when Sebastian’s phone rang.
Sebastian huffed and climbed to his feet. He slipped out his phone, glanced at it, and shut off the ringer.
Emily pulled herself up and sat on the side of the boat.
“We should have gone to McDonald’s,” said Sebastian. “I could go for a McMuffin.”
“Hm. I am getting kind of hungry.”
“Hey, Ms. Trivia, do you know why McDonald’s fries are so good?”
Emily shook her head.
“Because they add a tiny bit of sugar to the salt.”
“Really? I didn’t know that.”
Sebastian nodded. “Put that in your trivia pipe and smoke it.”
Emily and Sebastian sunned for another hour, until their hunger drove them back to Emily’s for lunch. As they walked in, Sebastian paused and looked toward the back of the house.
“I’m going to g
et a shower if that’s okay,” said Sebastian.
“No problem.”
“I’d ask you to join me, but I’m only human,” he said, pulling her to him and kissing the top of her head.
“That’s okay,” she said, collapsing against him. “I’ll make lunch.”
“Are you sure? I don’t want you to have to make something; we can just go out.”
“No, I love to cook, and I have a camera in the shower to record you, so I won’t miss anything.”
“Excellent. I’ll remember to flex.”
As soon as Sebastian closed the bathroom door, Emily burst into action. She made hamburgers for lunch and, for the pièce de résistance, reproduced McDonald’s fries.
Emily julienned three potatoes and fried them in a pan with olive oil. She guessed McDonald’s didn’t use olive oil in their deep fryers, but she didn’t have any vegetable oil. While she waited for the potatoes to turn golden, she defrosted burgers she’d made a few days earlier and put them in a pan. When the potatoes were ready, she put them on a paper towel and patted the oil from them. She arranged the fries on a cookie tray, sprinkled them with salt, added a pinch of sugar, and put them in the oven.
Sebastian walked into the kitchen, his hair wet.
“Whatcha makin’? It smells awesome out here.”
“Hamburgers and fries.”
“Oh perfect.”
With Emily’s guidance, Sebastian found the plates and set the table. Emily showered, and by the time she returned, things were ready. She brought the food to the plates and they sat down, both starving.
Sebastian took a bite of his burger, raved that it was delicious, and then popped a fry into his mouth. Emily laser-focused on his face, waiting for him to erupt into euphoria over her authentic McDonald’s fries.
Sebastian’s chewing slowed. He swallowed. He slipped another fry into his mouth. He chewed. He scowled. Emily thought he appeared confused, but she wasn’t sure; it might have been the face people made when fighting a gag reflex.
Sebastian swallowed hard and looked at her.
“Did you put sugar on these?” he asked.
Whoops.
“You said McDonald’s put sugar on their fries and that was what made them so good...”
“I might have remembered that wrong,” said Sebastian, laughing. “I’m sorry, these are terrible...”