36. Cliff
Chapter 36
Cliff
A fter two weeks, the girls are out of school for holiday break. By the time I get home from the bakery every afternoon, stuffed animals are strewn all over the living room, the TV is blaring, and bits of snack crumbs litter the coffee table. But the house is always empty.
I drop off my wallet and keys and cross over to Bird I’ve always been a talker in the bedroom. I can’t help myself. But this is new for Michelle, and now, it’s all she wants. I’m not complaining.
I run a thumb over her jawline, burying my nose in her hair, and murmur into her ear, “What do you want me to do? Want me to touch you here?” I slide my hand down to her jeans, tucking the top button through its hold. I pull the zipper, the hiss of it a harsh sound in the room’s silence. “Want me to taste here?” I trail my fingers below the hem of her underwear.
She’s slick between my fingers, and suddenly, I’m hard as a rock.
She nods against my shoulder, lowering her chin into the dip of my collarbone. “Please,” she whines.
“I love it when you beg,” I groan. “I love?—”
There’s a knock at the door, and both our heads swing back.
“Michelle?” It’s Emily.
Shit.
My erection is dead immediately. Michelle zips up her pants, buttoning them back. My eyebrows rise in question. Emily can’t know I’m in here. We’ve been trying to keep our relationship a secret from my girls, especially while we try to figure it out for ourselves. There’s no point in breaking their hearts too.
I look around, but Michelle pushes me against the wall beside the door and out of sight. She slaps her palm over my mouth before cracking the door open enough to see Emily.
“Hi. Sorry. Cleaning up,” Michelle says. “The guest left, and … well, I don’t want to get into it.”
“Ew,” Emily sneers, and I can picture the little scrunch in her nose. “Something gross?”
“Yeah,” Michelle answers, letting the word drag.
I twist against Michelle’s palm to look at her. I kinda like her hand over my lips. I open my mouth against her palm, tracing a small line with my tongue between the crease of two fingers. She grips my mouth harder.
“It might be ten more minutes or so,” Michelle tells her.
I gently nip her finger between my teeth.
“Twenty,” she corrects.
“Oh. Okay.” Emily’s words fade out.
Instantly, my dad alarms blare at Emily’s sullen, disappointed tone. I tense. So does Michelle.
“Why?” Michelle asks. “What’s wrong?”
“I wanted to talk to you about something. It’s important.”
My stomach drops. She sounds nervous. Maybe even scared. I turn my head to look at Michelle, but, smart woman that she is, she doesn’t look back.
“Okay. Well, hey, let me wrap up this room in five, and we’ll talk.”
“I thought you said it would take twenty.”
“I overestimated.”
Even with my eyebrows furrowed in concern, I weakly smile against Michelle’s palm. Why does this feel so easy? My daughter confiding in her. Make-out sessions in guest rooms.
Just the thought of her leaving makes my nerves tighten everywhere. My heart feels erratic. I wish we had more time. I wish she could stay. I wish we didn’t live on opposite sides of the country, living opposite lives.
I notice that Emily hasn’t left. She stands quietly outside the door.
“Actually, can I … can I talk to you now?” she asks Michelle.
“Oh,” Michelle says, her eyebrows rising in surprise. “The room is?—”
“I don’t care how messy it is,” Emily interrupts. “I’m really nervous right now. I can’t keep it to myself anymore.”
“Em—”
She interrupts again, this time shakier, “Please?”
Michelle is at a loss for words.
Emily fills the blank space for her. “I think I might be pregnant.”