very attractive gray skin and a slightly cross-eyed look from the alcohol. At least, I hope it’s the alcohol and I don’t usually look like I recently died.
I lie down on the velvet sofa, and wrap myself in the blanket with my head on a ridiculously soft cushion. The room is still spinning slightly, and I know I’m going to feel awful tomorrow.
I force myself to get up again. If I don’t have another glass or two of water, there’s no way I will be able to work. The stone slab floor is freezing on my bare feet. When I get to the sink, my eye catches some movement to my left.
Jamie’s bedroom door is open, and I can see the top half of his bed. He’s lying back, wearing just his boxers, and reading a book. He has his knees bent and one hand behind his head. His chest rises and falls, and my eyes are pulled toward his toned stomach, following a line of hair that leads down to the top of his boxers.
He’s got a small frown of concentration. I want to call over and ask what he’s reading, but then I see Cleo. She comes crawling up between his legs and grips the wrist of thehand holding the book. She pushes his arm back so that both his hands are above his head, and the book falls to the floor. She puts her face close to his, about to kiss him, but then moves down again, her lips brushing over his neck, chest, and stomach and stopping at the top of his boxers. Then she comes up again, doing the same thing, and Jamie’s back arches.
Flustered, I turn the tap with more force than I mean to, and a jet of water comes gushing out. I keep looking forward at the glass, so that if they do look over, it doesn’t seem like I was watching them.
I hear the door close.
Chapter 13
I’m on the sofa, lying on my front. Wait, no … This is one of the lounge chairs by the pool. I’m wearing a bikini and I’m waiting there for him. Sure enough, I sense someone behind me, and then hands grip mine. But the hands are coffee colored, with perfectly manicured nails. I feel long hair brushing my shoulders. I struggle to get free and feel lips brushing up and down my back. I twist around and look up. Cleo grins at me.
“Come on. We’ve got to get to the devil’s lair.”
We run hand in hand along the side of the pool and onto a path I’ve never seen before. Suddenly it transforms into a dusty red path that starts going upward and around in circles. We’re running up a mountain. When we reach the top, I can see for miles around. The sky is shot through with pink; the sun is beginning to rise. She takes my other hand and I realize that it’s not Cleo—it’s Jamie. He leans forwardand kisses me gently on the forehead. He rests his head against mine and looks down at me. “I love you.”
As my eyes flicker open, there’s a blurry face above me. The same one that just said he loved me.
“’Morning.”
I draw the covers up to my chin. “Were you watching me sleep?” I say, mostly out of panic that I said something weird. But then, watching me sleep would be pretty creepy too.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He plonks a plate on the coffee table next to the sofa. “You’ll need this.”
It’s a bacon-and-egg sandwich. I raise my head with a groan. There’s classical music playing again, and the violins feel like someone sawing at my skull. He turns it down.
“I was drowning out your snoring.”
He sits down next to me on the sofa, giving me no choice but to sit up. He’s got a black T-shirt and boxers on, and when he sits down, our bare legs are touching.
“Where’s Cleo?”
“On a walk? She likes to keep me in the dark.”
He puts his foot on his knee and rests his book on his leg. It means his leg is now digging into me. I hadn’t noticed he wears glasses for reading.
“It’s really off-putting, having you stare at me,” he says, without turning to look at me.
“What are you reading?”
He tilts the front cover toward me about an inch.
“I can’t read it.”
“That’s a little worrying, at
I lie down on the velvet sofa, and wrap myself in the blanket with my head on a ridiculously soft cushion. The room is still spinning slightly, and I know I’m going to feel awful tomorrow.
I force myself to get up again. If I don’t have another glass or two of water, there’s no way I will be able to work. The stone slab floor is freezing on my bare feet. When I get to the sink, my eye catches some movement to my left.
Jamie’s bedroom door is open, and I can see the top half of his bed. He’s lying back, wearing just his boxers, and reading a book. He has his knees bent and one hand behind his head. His chest rises and falls, and my eyes are pulled toward his toned stomach, following a line of hair that leads down to the top of his boxers.
He’s got a small frown of concentration. I want to call over and ask what he’s reading, but then I see Cleo. She comes crawling up between his legs and grips the wrist of thehand holding the book. She pushes his arm back so that both his hands are above his head, and the book falls to the floor. She puts her face close to his, about to kiss him, but then moves down again, her lips brushing over his neck, chest, and stomach and stopping at the top of his boxers. Then she comes up again, doing the same thing, and Jamie’s back arches.
Flustered, I turn the tap with more force than I mean to, and a jet of water comes gushing out. I keep looking forward at the glass, so that if they do look over, it doesn’t seem like I was watching them.
I hear the door close.
Chapter 13
I’m on the sofa, lying on my front. Wait, no … This is one of the lounge chairs by the pool. I’m wearing a bikini and I’m waiting there for him. Sure enough, I sense someone behind me, and then hands grip mine. But the hands are coffee colored, with perfectly manicured nails. I feel long hair brushing my shoulders. I struggle to get free and feel lips brushing up and down my back. I twist around and look up. Cleo grins at me.
“Come on. We’ve got to get to the devil’s lair.”
We run hand in hand along the side of the pool and onto a path I’ve never seen before. Suddenly it transforms into a dusty red path that starts going upward and around in circles. We’re running up a mountain. When we reach the top, I can see for miles around. The sky is shot through with pink; the sun is beginning to rise. She takes my other hand and I realize that it’s not Cleo—it’s Jamie. He leans forwardand kisses me gently on the forehead. He rests his head against mine and looks down at me. “I love you.”
As my eyes flicker open, there’s a blurry face above me. The same one that just said he loved me.
“’Morning.”
I draw the covers up to my chin. “Were you watching me sleep?” I say, mostly out of panic that I said something weird. But then, watching me sleep would be pretty creepy too.
“Don’t flatter yourself.” He plonks a plate on the coffee table next to the sofa. “You’ll need this.”
It’s a bacon-and-egg sandwich. I raise my head with a groan. There’s classical music playing again, and the violins feel like someone sawing at my skull. He turns it down.
“I was drowning out your snoring.”
He sits down next to me on the sofa, giving me no choice but to sit up. He’s got a black T-shirt and boxers on, and when he sits down, our bare legs are touching.
“Where’s Cleo?”
“On a walk? She likes to keep me in the dark.”
He puts his foot on his knee and rests his book on his leg. It means his leg is now digging into me. I hadn’t noticed he wears glasses for reading.
“It’s really off-putting, having you stare at me,” he says, without turning to look at me.
“What are you reading?”
He tilts the front cover toward me about an inch.
“I can’t read it.”
“That’s a little worrying, at
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