pick the pieces of a broken glass off the linoleum. He blinked owlishly in the sudden glare. I noticed that my yellow trousers, and Joe's jeans, lay in a tangle by the refrigerator. Sean must have tripped over them.
'Kate,’ he said, his eyes bloodshot, his sensual mouth slack. 'You're up.'
This is what I got for starting an affair with a twenty-three-year-old. No, with two twenty-three-year-olds. Sean swayed on his haunches.
'Couldn't stay,’ he said. Too many illegal substances. I don't party like that any more.'
This declaration would have gone down better if he weren't totally sloshed.
'Come away from that glass.' I pulled him up by the arm. One of his palms was bleeding, a long thin cut, like boys used to swear by in the old days. He stumbled against me as I guided him to the sink. I opened the tap and held his hand under it.
' Ow ,’ he said, but I didn't see any glass. 'Can't drink like I used to. Only had three beers - okay, maybe four. And look at me. I'm a mess.'
'That you are.'
'Hate a sloppy drunk.' Unable to keep his footing, his elbow thunked on to the counter. 'He won't love me any more.'
Trying not to laugh at his theatricals, I wrapped a paper towel around his palm and applied pressure. 'I'm sure Joe has seen you drunk before.'
'No, not because of that. Because I stole your cherry - your arse cherry,' he enunciated, in case it wasn't clear. ‘I knew he wanted it, but I stole it anyway. In fact, I stole it because he wanted it.' His face settled into mournful lines like the tragedy mask at a drama club. 'Kate, sometimes I'm so bad I don't know what to do with myself.'
When I smiled at him, tears stung my eyes. I remembered being his age, and remembered a few of the lousy, selfish things I'd done since then. 'Everyone is bad sometimes, Sean. That doesn't make it right, but it doesn't make you a monster either.'
Nodding, he sniffed hard and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. His muscles bulged with the motion. Some tough guy - and that black T-shirt had seen better days.
'Whew.' I waved my hand in front of my nose. 'You smell like a brewery.'
'Some stupid first-year shook up a beer can and sprayed me with it.' He pushed carefully off the counter and tested his balance. 'Better take a shower.'
'Better let me help you,’ I said, easing his arm around my shoulders.
In fits and starts, we shuffled up the stairs to the second floor, to the bathroom he and Joe shared. The air smelled of shaving cream and cologne - Joe's Aramis , Sean's trendy Calvin Klein. I propped him on the toilet and turned on the spray. Once it was going, I knelt down to remove his shoes. 'You gonna wash my back, too?' I didn't answer, but that didn't seem to matter to him. The three, or maybe four, beers had loosened his tongue. 'Nobody ever washed my back, not even my mom.'
That tugged my heartstrings, too. What a softie I was. 'You could have asked Joe.'
He shook his head, that hound-dog look on his face again. 'Joe gave me so much. I couldn't ask him to baby me, too.'
I peeled off his socks. 'Sure you could. But you would have had to give up your nice, dominant position.'
His glare told me I'd hit a bull's-eye. His mouth opened on a stutter. Then he closed it and started again. 'You've got a sharp tongue, Mrs Robbyns .'
'Ms Winthrop,’ I corrected, levelling him with the gimlet eye I used to save for Tom. Unlike my ex, Sean met it like a man.
'You think I wouldn't let Joe baby me 'cause I wanted to stay in charge?' 'You tell me.'
He rubbed his face with both hands. When he let go, the mournful lines were gone. A sly smile had taken their place, one I found altogether too charming. 'I'm letting you baby me.'
I braced my hands on my knees and stood. 'That doesn't count. You're not in love with me.'
His grin faded. He couldn't deny my words, or that he was in love with Joe. With a weary sigh, he stripped off his stinky T-shirt and tossed it into the hall.
"Thanks, Kate,’ he said. He appeared almost sober. 'I think I
'Kate,’ he said, his eyes bloodshot, his sensual mouth slack. 'You're up.'
This is what I got for starting an affair with a twenty-three-year-old. No, with two twenty-three-year-olds. Sean swayed on his haunches.
'Couldn't stay,’ he said. Too many illegal substances. I don't party like that any more.'
This declaration would have gone down better if he weren't totally sloshed.
'Come away from that glass.' I pulled him up by the arm. One of his palms was bleeding, a long thin cut, like boys used to swear by in the old days. He stumbled against me as I guided him to the sink. I opened the tap and held his hand under it.
' Ow ,’ he said, but I didn't see any glass. 'Can't drink like I used to. Only had three beers - okay, maybe four. And look at me. I'm a mess.'
'That you are.'
'Hate a sloppy drunk.' Unable to keep his footing, his elbow thunked on to the counter. 'He won't love me any more.'
Trying not to laugh at his theatricals, I wrapped a paper towel around his palm and applied pressure. 'I'm sure Joe has seen you drunk before.'
'No, not because of that. Because I stole your cherry - your arse cherry,' he enunciated, in case it wasn't clear. ‘I knew he wanted it, but I stole it anyway. In fact, I stole it because he wanted it.' His face settled into mournful lines like the tragedy mask at a drama club. 'Kate, sometimes I'm so bad I don't know what to do with myself.'
When I smiled at him, tears stung my eyes. I remembered being his age, and remembered a few of the lousy, selfish things I'd done since then. 'Everyone is bad sometimes, Sean. That doesn't make it right, but it doesn't make you a monster either.'
Nodding, he sniffed hard and wiped his eyes on his sleeve. His muscles bulged with the motion. Some tough guy - and that black T-shirt had seen better days.
'Whew.' I waved my hand in front of my nose. 'You smell like a brewery.'
'Some stupid first-year shook up a beer can and sprayed me with it.' He pushed carefully off the counter and tested his balance. 'Better take a shower.'
'Better let me help you,’ I said, easing his arm around my shoulders.
In fits and starts, we shuffled up the stairs to the second floor, to the bathroom he and Joe shared. The air smelled of shaving cream and cologne - Joe's Aramis , Sean's trendy Calvin Klein. I propped him on the toilet and turned on the spray. Once it was going, I knelt down to remove his shoes. 'You gonna wash my back, too?' I didn't answer, but that didn't seem to matter to him. The three, or maybe four, beers had loosened his tongue. 'Nobody ever washed my back, not even my mom.'
That tugged my heartstrings, too. What a softie I was. 'You could have asked Joe.'
He shook his head, that hound-dog look on his face again. 'Joe gave me so much. I couldn't ask him to baby me, too.'
I peeled off his socks. 'Sure you could. But you would have had to give up your nice, dominant position.'
His glare told me I'd hit a bull's-eye. His mouth opened on a stutter. Then he closed it and started again. 'You've got a sharp tongue, Mrs Robbyns .'
'Ms Winthrop,’ I corrected, levelling him with the gimlet eye I used to save for Tom. Unlike my ex, Sean met it like a man.
'You think I wouldn't let Joe baby me 'cause I wanted to stay in charge?' 'You tell me.'
He rubbed his face with both hands. When he let go, the mournful lines were gone. A sly smile had taken their place, one I found altogether too charming. 'I'm letting you baby me.'
I braced my hands on my knees and stood. 'That doesn't count. You're not in love with me.'
His grin faded. He couldn't deny my words, or that he was in love with Joe. With a weary sigh, he stripped off his stinky T-shirt and tossed it into the hall.
"Thanks, Kate,’ he said. He appeared almost sober. 'I think I
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