I’d already splashed my face, used some silky soft lotion, and eaten five mints when the first knock came at the door.
“It’s occupied,” I called, popping another mint into my mouth.
“Sal, it’s me. Can I come in?”
Eyes wide, I spit the mint back out, dropped it in the trash. When I opened the door, Becks was standing there, leaning against the jamb.
“Yes?” I said.
“What were you doing in there?” Peering past me, Becks’s eyes widened. “Whoa, that is one mighty fine bathroom.”
I crossed my arms. “Did you want something? Towel, hand sanitizer, mint?”
He looked at me. “I just wanted to make sure you were okay. You rushed in here pretty quick.”
“I’m fine,” I said. “Where’s Mercedes? Seems like she might want first crack at you after we’ve broken up.”
“Yeah, no kidding,” he said. “That girl is relentless, Sal.”
“That’s a nice way of putting it,” I mumbled.
“Relentless,” he repeated. “Are you mad at me or something?”
“What makes you say that?”
“You’re glaring hard enough to burn a hole through my chest.”
“Am I?”
“Yeah,” Becks said, lifting my chin. “You are.”
I tried to look indifferent but don’t think I succeeded. The picture of Mercedes sitting on his lap was still right there, blazing bright in my head. I couldn’t help but be mad at her for what she’d done and at Becks for what he didn’t do.
“You know, it’s not my fault Mercedes sat in my lap.”
“Yeah, but you could’ve thrown her off.”
“I did. You just ran off too fast to catch it.”
“Not right away, though.”
Becks shook his head, running a hand along his stubbly jaw. “I just didn’t want to hurt her feelings, Sal. What can I do to make it up to you?”
I said nothing. It was probably true, but what a lame excuse.
“There’s got to be something you want,” he coaxed. “I’ll do anything.”
I watched him through narrowed eyes. “That’s a big offer.”
“I mean it, Sal, whatever you want.” He held up his hands. “Just please, stop looking at me like that.”
“Hey, you guys almost done? I really need to use the restroom.”
Rick Smythe was doing what I liked to call the pee-pee dance, legs clenched standing behind Becks, hopping from one foot to the other. I knew right then what I wanted. Turning, I grabbed a towel and a couple of things from the counter then stepped out of the room.
“It’s all yours,” I said.
Rick said, “Thanks, Bally,” slapped a hand to Becks’s cheek and waddled inside, pulling the door closed after him.
“Decide what you want yet?” Becks asked.
I nodded, smiling wide. “Follow me to the kitchen, please.”
“You sure you don’t want to think on it some more?”
“Nope.”
“That was fast,” Becks muttered. “What’s that razor for? Should I be nervous?”
“A little fear never hurt anyone,” I threw back, making him suffer.
People were drifting in and out, but the kitchen was mostly empty. All the food for the party, the music, the dancing was in the living room, so nobody stuck around for long. The kitchen was like everything else in the house: huge, wide-open, and more than a bit obnoxious.
Looking around for a place to sit, there were only two options, the dining table or the countertop. I guessed Mercedes had cleared out all the chairs before the party. Since it would put me right next to the sink, I picked the counter. Becks was much taller, so it’d also help make up for the height difference.
“Sal, what are you doing?” Becks looked on as I tried to lever myself up. I was on my third attempt.
“What does it look like?” I huffed, jumping and sliding right back down. On second thought, maybe this hadn’t been such a good idea. Stupid rich people and their stupid high counters.
He sighed, walked over and gripped my waist. I gasped as he lifted and placed me on the counter on the first try, as if I weighed nothing at all.
I’d been right. Height was no longer an issue. In fact, with Becks’s hands still attached to my waist, I was only inches away from his beautiful eyes, staring straight into them, the ones that pulled me in. I caught myself leaning closer, and shifted back.
“Thanks,” I said, looking away, grabbing for the shaving cream like a lifeline. “You said anything, right?”
Becks nodded. “I did.”
“Okay. Then I want to shave it off.”
“What?” He dropped his hands, looking horrified.