Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Adelaide
Wait.
Not a pillow. A chest.
Zander laughs at my dramatics. He sets his phone down on the quilt we pulled over ourselves sometime after the fireworks stopped.
“Good morning, sunshine.”
“Morning,” I say, rubbing at my eyes. “It’s too early.”
“What’s your ideal wake-up time?”
“I could sleep all day if you let me,” I say, then with a yawn, “I usually get up around 10:30 or 11. I make my own hours so I can do whatever I want. I write best in the afternoon, unless I have an idea come to me at midnight, then I’ll write into the night.”
“You’re like Batman for authors.”
“Saving the world one em-dash at a time.” He laughs, bouncing me on his chest. I roll away so I can see his gorgeous face, the crinkle of his eyes as he gazes down at me. “You seem awfully comfortable for this early. Please don’t tell me this is when you normally wake up.”
“I could tell you that…but it would be a lie.”
“Zander!” I shriek dramatically. “We have to break up now. It was a good run but I am not getting the worm.”
“It’s fine. Owls eat worms, too.”
Why is that romantic? Why am I swooning? Why do I want to make the most of the fact that I am still wearing only his shirt?
I tease my leg against his under the covers. He’s warm, pleasant, somehow sending shockwaves through my body even though I’m the one doing the work. But he catches on quickly, moving his phone from the bed to the bedside table, and—wait a minute.
“Was that Wordle?” I ask.
Zander snort laughs. The hand on my hip squeezes. “Seriously? You’re playing footsie with me and that’s what you catch?”
“Well,” I say, nudging my foot against his for good measure. “Was it?”
“It was. I got into it when everyone else did and never gave it up. My therapist says it’s a grounding technique.”
“That’s cute. Like you’re starting your day off right by being a big nerd. I respect it.”
His hand slides lower, cupping my ass. And I’m not wearing any underwear and his fingers are mere inches away from something far more PG-13 than Wordle. From his smirk, he knows it.
“What’s your starting word?” I ask.
“Adieu.”
“Oh, you’re one of those people. I always did house.”
“Boring word. H is useless most of the time.”
“And D isn’t?”
The hand on my ass skirts further down, along my thigh, to the back of my knee, and props my leg up on him. My core slams against his pelvis. He’s rock hard beneath his day-old shorts. I grind my hips against him, making him groan.
“You tell me.”
“I guess some aren’t entirely useless.” He flips us, parting my legs and settling in between them. There’s no hiding my desire this way. “This one’s pretty useful, I think.”
My back against the mattress is unpleasant, and I’m certain my sunburn must be angry and peeling beneath Zander’s shirt, but I don’t care.
Not with him here. I grab his face and bring it down to mine.
He kisses with a reckless abandon I haven’t yet seen or felt with him, leaving me breathless and wanting.
Our tongues dance, messy and hot. I grip his shoulders, dig my nails in, pull him flush against me.
He redistributes his weight, holding himself up with one hand balled in the sheets, while the other explores my body.
His hand creeps up the shirt that belongs to him, drawing the lines of my hips and rib cage with his fingers.
Finally, he reaches my left breast and roughly grasps it.
I gasp into his mouth, which then morphs into a moan as his thumb begins circling my nipple.
“Zander,” I breathe. “More.”
“You like that, do you?” He brushes his lips along my neck. He pinches my nipple between two fingers. “What else do you want? How many ways can I make you come undone?”
“I need you,” I pant. “I need you to—”
A door slams within the house and I jump. The motion jars our bodies enough that Zander twists my nipple, making me yelp.
“Sorry,” he says, removing his hand from beneath the shirt. “Was that your cousin?”
I groan and roll out from under him, push myself off the bed and stand by the side. “Ah, the exact person I don’t want to hear about while having sex. Yeah, I’m sure that was her. I’m sure she heard what we were doing and now she’s pissed off. Do you want to actually meet her this time?”
Zander looks at me like I’ve grown a new head. He lies on my bed, looking perfectly disheveled, hair falling in his eyes. I want to keep him here in this moment forever, but I know if I’m ever going to get my family on my side, I need them to meet my boyfriend and actually spend time with him.
“I know the answer is no…but I also think, no, actually I know that everyone would love you if they got to know you like I do.”
“To be fair, I don’t need them to love me like you do, I just—” He pauses. “That isn’t what you said, sorry. I don’t assume you love me.” He runs a hand over his face and groans. “That was presumptuous. We haven’t known each other…that long…”
“Okay, I know this is crazy, but what if I do?”
“If you do?”
“Love you. I—I love you.”
He slowly sits up. The sheets fall away from him and his face goes slack.
Our eyes lock on each other’s. He searches mine, for what, I don’t know.
I don’t know if he finds it. I don’t know what to do except stand in front of him, my arms at my sides, my body hidden beneath his shirt.
I watch as his eyes grow glassy and he drops my gaze, glancing down at the bed.
“Addie,” he whispers, and even at that, his voice breaks. “You don’t mean that, do you?”
I climb onto the bed and kneel in front of him. I cradle his face in my hands. “I mean it. I don’t need you to say it back, I just…I think you need to know someone loves you. I do. I love every piece of you.”
He kisses my hand, shakes his head. “I love you, too.”
“That’s a terrible decision.”
“Never. My silly goose, ray of sunshine, whimsical elf, little mouse.”
I cackle. “Okay. Got that out of the way. Come meet my stupid cousin.”
I throw his shirt at him and wander, naked, to my closet. I stare at my dresses, running my hands over colourful fabric. Zander slinks up behind me and drops his cool hands on my back. I gasp as another round of aloe vera sinks into my skin.
“You still look like a lobster,” he whispers in my ear as he massages me. He turns me around, rubbing it into my collarbones, then using it as an excuse to fondle my chest. “Perfect.”
“You love me,” I say as his hands move from my breasts to my upper arms. “You totally just felt me up, but you’re also taking care of me, which I appreciate.”
“Couldn’t help myself. You should wear that.”
He points to a green T-shirt dress with cats in cowboy hats printed on it. I shrug, pull it off its hanger, and slip it over my head. My nipples show through the fabric and I have no intention of putting on any underwear. I smile, biting my lower lip, as his eyes blaze.
“You’re trying to kill me,” he whines as I close my fingers around his wrist and drag him out of my closet.
“Oh no. I’m terribly sorry.”
I head down to the kitchen, assuming the door slam was Willow’s room, and now she’s getting breakfast. Zander switches my hand hold, moving my fingers from his wrist to twining with his own. I squeeze his, whether in love or in warning, as we round the corner into the kitchen.
Willow sits at the kitchen table, engrossed in a bowl of oatmeal and her phone. Her laptop is open beside her to her work email and a Zoom window, her rectangle blacked out and silenced.
“Morning, Willow,” I say, ducking into the fridge to find something to eat. I pull out a carton of eggs and the jug of milk. “French toast?”
Zander nods. “Sounds perfect.”
I note the kitchen is spotless. The pan, knife, and cheese grater Zander used last night are sitting in the drying rack next to the sink. I smile.
“Hey,” I say, placing a hand on his chest, “would you mind going back up and getting the tray from last night?”
He agrees without a second thought. I sigh as I turn back to Willow, who is positively seething. Because of course she is. I crack two eggs into a plastic bowl and wait for her to explode.
“Addie,” Willow finally says after I’ve started whisking the eggs, milk, and cinnamon. “Can you warn me the next time you bring a criminal into the house? Seems like common decency, don’t you think?”
I drop the whisk. I feel Zander’s presence just behind me.
Crap.
“Willow.” I try to keep my anger in check.
My knuckles go white against the counter.
“First of all, this is my house. I don’t care that you think you have some sort of claim over it, or me, but you don’t.
You don’t get to make decisions about what I do and don’t do.
” She punctuates this with an eye roll and aggressive chew of her breakfast. “And second, apologize if you want to live here.” I don’t know where it comes from.
I’ve wanted to say this to her a million times, but it’s never come out.
“That was rude and uncalled for. You don’t even say hello, you just call someone a name. ”
Willow sighs and stands. She grabs her bowl and laptop, pushes between me and Zander, and drops the bowl in the sink. She faces me, completely ignoring him.
“I won’t be apologizing,” she says. “I would, however, like one from you. You brought home trash and you woke me up when you fucked him. Make better choices.”
With that, she leaves. I hope it’s for good as she noisily finds her car keys and slams the front door, but I know she’ll come crawling back. She’ll spin this, tell my dad, tell her dad, and make everything my fault. It’ll be up to me, once again, to keep the peace in my family.
“Bitch,” I say and throw a piece of bread at the wall.
Zander bends to pick up the bread, adds it to the food from last night, and dumps the leftovers into my compost bin. He adds the dishes into the sink, then loops around to the other side of the island. He gives me a small, sad smile.
“So, Adelaide Ramsay only swears when she’s having an orgasm and arguing with her cousin.”
“I guess so,” I say, vigorously whisking once again. “Both situations deserve it.”
“Hey.” He places a hand over mine, stilling my movements. The mixture is frothy and overworked. “Thank you.”