Six of Hearts(83)

I stand a little straighter and tuck a wayward strand of hair behind my ear. “Nothing.”

Michelle giggles and wags her finger at me. “Your makeup is virtually non-existent, and you’re sporting a different hairdo than you were earlier. I’m thinking a lot more than ‘nothing’ happened, Matilda.”

“Okay, Mother.”

“Oh, she’s blushing,” says Jessie. “A blush like that only indicates one thing.”

“A good old-fashioned rogering,” says Michelle.

“Jay serviced your pipes,” Jessie adds.

I scrunch up my face. “Oh, God. Can you two please stop? I dislike both of those phrases. And I refuse to believe I have anything that resembles plumbing, thank you very much.”

“But you two did…you know,” says Jessie, forming a circle with her thumb and index finger and then inserting another finger through the hole.

“Okay, Danny Zuko. Thanks for that delightful visual interpretation,” I deadpan.

Both she and Michelle burst into laughter.

“What visual interpretation are we talking about?” Jay’s husky voice asks from behind as he tugs me down to sit on his lap. Okay, now it’s pretty obvious that there definitely was some plumbing being serviced. I wouldn’t be sitting on his lap if there wasn’t.

What? The plumbing image is stuck in my head now.

“The old finger through the hole,” Jessie explains once her laughter has died down. Seriously, I don’t think what I said was that funny. Perhaps it was the way I said it.

“Oh, you decided you’re not offended by the idea of sucking a cock anymore?” Jay asks, teasing her. I’m glad I’m no longer the one being teased.

“Eh, nooo,” Jessie exclaims. “And the hole is clearly a vagina, not a mouth.”

“This is the conversation we’re having, really? I must have forgotten we’re all thirteen-year-old boys now,” I say, talking mostly to myself.

Jay’s hand massages my hip as he pulls me in closer to his body. He kisses my temple, then asks, “You want to get out of here?”

“And go where?”

“Home.”

“Dad’s at home.”

“We’ll be quiet.”

I cock an eyebrow at him. He chuckles. “Okay, well, I do have a pretty fucking awesome car.”

A laugh sputters out of me. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You know.”

His hand is on my neck, his thumb massaging my throat again. Seriously, it’s probably the most erotic thing he could do to me in public without being obscene. My eyes flutter closed, and a heavy breath escapes me, my head falling to the side to rest on his shoulder.

“I’m kind of tired,” I say. “You should probably just take me home.”

His voice is tender when he replies, “Okay, darlin’, I’ll take you home.”

Helping me to stand, we say our goodbyes and then take the elevator back down to the lobby. When I’m settled in the passenger seat of his car, I promptly fall asleep.

A little bit later I wake up. The car has been pulled into the side of the road, and Jay’s outside, pacing and talking to someone over the phone. I look around. The only light is coming from the headlights of the car. Where are we that there are no streetlights at all? Nowhere on the route home, that’s for certain. I must be dreaming. And with that thought, I fall back asleep.





Twenty-Two




I don’t wake up until just before midday the following morning, in my own bed and stripped down to my underwear. I smile at the visual of Jay carrying me from his car up to my room and then pleasing himself by removing my dress. After my long hours of sleep, I feel rested. I’m a little disappointed that Jay didn’t stay with me, but that’s probably just because Dad’s home.

I’m not sure how I’m going to broach the subject of being with Jay to Dad, but it’s early days yet. Perhaps we can spend a little while longer just enjoying the newness of it before we have to make any decisions about what exactly is going on between us.

I get up and hop into the shower, wondering how I’m going to handle it when Jay moves out in a week’s time. I won’t have any more of his breakfasts or his flirting over breakfast. I won’t have the fizzy feeling in my belly of knowing he’s asleep on the other side of my bedroom wall.

I wish there was some way that he could stay.

I blow-dry my hair once I’m out of the shower and get dressed. As I’m about to head downstairs, I go by Jay’s room, and his door is open. When I look inside, I see he’s camped out on the floor again, books open all around him and a million papers scattered across the carpet. On the other side of the room, there’s an entire deck of cards spread out neatly, face up and sporting random numbers written in marker pen.