Chapter Twenty-Two
CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO
TONI
My family has always lived by the early to rise early to bed ethos and even though I got very little sleep last night, I’m wide awake at five thirty in the morning. I watch Audrey sleep next to me, her eyes moving back and forth beneath her lids. She’s dreaming about something. I hope it’s good.
I consider waking her. The pull to taste her again, to feel her hot and wet against my mouth, to hear her moan my name when my tongue lazily circles her clit, and her hiss of breath when I slide my fingers inside her, is almost impossible to resist. I suspected before but last night confirmed it; I will always want more of Audrey Adams.
My better angels win, again, and I don’t wake her. I don’t want to disturb her REM sleep.
When we had finally collapsed an hour or so ago from exhaustion, she mentioned how sore she would be in the morning.
“I’m sorry,” I said, though I wasn’t really.
“No, you’re not,” she said with a lazy, sated smile. “I’m not either. It is a very good kind of sore. Our little secret.” She kissed me on the cheek and rolled over, pressed her leg next to mine so we were still touching, and fell asleep almost immediately. So, she’s not a post-sex snuggler. I guess she can’t be perfect.
I fell asleep within two minutes, like usual, slept hard, and woke up at five thirty on the dot.
Our little secret.
I dress with those words running through my mind on a loop. No matter how I turn them around, front to back, back to front, the meaning is pretty clear.
Audrey wants to keep us a secret.
Fun for now, seeing where things go, I’m OK with that. Well, mostly OK. But keeping it a secret?
I stand at the door to the room, one hand on the doorknob, my gaze on Audrey’s sleeping form. Wake her up and get a little clarity? Or let her sleep and read the subtext?
We’re having sex, Toni. Not renting a U-Haul.
Is this what taking it slow means for Audrey? Keeping us a secret? Because that’s not what it means to me. That’s not what I want.
I should be OK with casual; I’ve done casual for a decade. But I’ve never done casual in secret. It seems like an unnecessary complication to an already complicated situation—working together, her getting out of a toxic relationship, me learning how to navigate being in a relationship, in whatever form this might take.
Yeah, I might have failed to mention that I’ve never been in a serious relationship. Luckily, I know someone nearby who has, and will be free with advice.
“Hey.”
I jump at the sound of Audrey’s sleepy voice. “Hey, there. I didn’t want to wake you.”
She rubs her eyes and squints at me through the dark. “Are you OK? You’ve been standing there staring into space for a while.”
“Yeah, I’m good. Go back to sleep.”
“What time is it?”
“Five thirty.”
“I should probably go to my room.”
“My family is probably all awake and downstairs so you shouldn’t get caught sneaking next door.”
She smiles. “OK.”
Just talk to her, you idiot.
Instead, I say, “I’m going to go snowshoeing.”
“Oh my God you’re a morning person.”
I laugh. “I guess you aren’t.”
“Very reluctantly and only because I read in a self-help book once that all successful executives get up at three a.m.”
“I’m not that much of a morning person.”
“Thank God.” She smiles sleepily at me. “You’re beautiful. Have I ever told you that?”
My heart swells. “Not in so many words. I think you said, ‘you’re sexy as fuck’ when I finger fucked you last night.”
“Hmm, I remember,” she says. “Tonight, it’s my turn.”
“You might want to recharge the little vibe,” I say. “Cord is in the drawer.”
“Yes, we haven’t talked about your foresight on bringing a vibe, or is it your travel vibe?”
“I bought a brand-new one just for you,” I say.
Audrey raises her eyebrows. She throws the blankets back and rises from the bed, all smooth creamy skin, long legs, and full, beautiful breasts. Shit, why didn’t I wake her up?
“And you got lavender, my favorite color,” she says in a teasing voice.
“Happy coincidence.”
“Can I give you a kiss goodbye?”
“I’m afraid if I kiss you or touch you I won’t let you leave this room all day.”
“We’ll have to be strong,” she whispers, her mouth almost touching mine.
“I can be strong,” I say. Then I step back, open the door and go through quickly. I peek back in through the crack. The shock on Audrey’s face is totally worth it.
“Weren’t expecting that, were you?” I say with a grin. “Go back to sleep, lazybones. Coffee’ll be hot when you get up.”
I close the door, leaving Audrey shocked and, hopefully, very turned on.
Greta stands in the kitchen, holding a mug of coffee, staring into space.
“Hey,” I say.
She startles, then tries to act natural. “Good morning. Sleep well?”
“Like a rock. You?”
Greta turns to me full on and I’m shocked by how tired she looks. The skin around her eyes has been caked with concealer, but dark circles still manage to peek through.
“Yeah. Like a rock,” she says.
We’re both lying, and we both know it.
“Was Willa impressed with the stars?”
“Yes,” Greta says, coolly. She deliberately holds my gaze, daring me to probe.
I’m not an idiot. I keep my mouth shut. Besides, she’ll reject any attempt I make to get her to open up—God forbid she acknowledge that I could help her with something—and right now I need advice she can’t help me with.
“I’m going to go snowshoeing,” I say. “Back in a bit.”
“Have fun,” she deadpans, and walks out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
In ten minutes, I’m kitted up and out on the trail. In twenty, I’m using the spare key to unlock the basement door of Max’s parents’ house. I shed all my gear, sneak into Max’s room, and climb into bed with her like I’ve done hundreds of times in our lives.
Max sleeps on her side in a fetal position and I mirror it and watch her. With her eyes closed she says, “You’re kidding me right now.”
“Nope.”
She sighs and opens her eyes. “What the fuck are you doing sneaking into my bed on Christmas Eve.”
“Oh, shit. I forgot it was Christmas Eve.”
“Would that have mattered?”
“Nope. I need your help.”
“Obviously.” Max rolls on her back and rubs her face. “You know one day I’m going to call in all these favors and you’re going to sorely regret this.”
“Looking forward to it.”
She drops her hand and looks at me. “Oh no, I’m going to make you miserable, Tone.”
“And I’m sure I will deserve every needle you poke into my voodoo doll. Are you done pretending to not want to help me?”
“If it helps me get back to sleep sooner, yes. What’s up?”
“I slept with Audrey.”
“Yes, I know. In my bed.”
“No. A few hours ago. In my bed.”
Max throws up her hands. “And? Did you come here to brag about getting laid?”
“I don’t do that.”
She sighs. “I don’t even have the energy. You talk, I’ll listen. Go.”
I fill her in as quickly and succinctly as possible.
“So, you think she’s sending you mixed signals,” Max says.
“Maybe? Or maybe not. She doesn’t want to rush into a relationship, but she wants to have sex, but she wants to keep it a secret. Are those mixed signals or all kinda the same?”
“And instead of talking to her when you had the chance, you decided to wake me up and ask me to read her mind. Sounds about right.”
“Well, when you put it like that,” I say. I lie back on the bed and stare at the ceiling. “I’ve never been in a relationship and you have so I thought you’d know what I should do.”
“Toni, I’ve been in five relationships in ten years. That’s hardly a good track record for giving advice.”
“Who else am I going to talk to? Greta? I don’t think she’s been on a date since she went to work at the company.”
“Audrey. You should have talked to Audrey.”
“I don’t want to be the one who’s always, Hey let’s have a deep conversation about our pseudo relationship , because I could absolutely go there very easily. We’d just had amazing sex. I didn’t want to ruin it.”
“You mean you don’t want to jeopardize tonight’s great sex.”
God, I hate it when Max reads me so easily. “Fuck you,” I say. “I want more than she does, I know that.”
“Were you lying when you said you’d take it slow?”
“No, of course not. But I don’t think keeping it a secret from our family?—”
“Your family.”
“—my family, means we’re rushing things.”
“You know what solves all these problems? Communication.”
“So, you’re saying I should talk to her.”
“Yes, Toni. Jesus, I can’t believe you woke me up for this. Go away.”
“You don’t want to snuggle?”
“Go snuggle with Audrey.”
“She’s not a snuggler.”
“That’s a you problem, not a me problem.”
“You aren’t very helpful.”
“Danzig, payback is going to be hell for this one.”
I get up from the bed and make it to the door when Max sits up and says, “Wait.”
I leap onto the bed and tackle her. “You want to snuggle. I knew it.”
“No, I don’t,” she protests, but she lets me pull her down onto the bed and snuggle up to her side.
“OK, keep protesting,” I say. “Your secret is safe with me,” I whisper.
Max sighs, but I feel her relax. It must be exhausting to be deadpan and cynical all the time.
“Audrey is trying to set boundaries, but not doing a great job of it,” Max says. “You need her to define taking it slow. For her. Then you need to tell her what taking it slow is for you. Just because she’s getting out of a bad relationship doesn’t mean you have to just agree to everything she wants. She wants to take it slow. But you don’t want to keep it a secret. Seems like a fair trade. Just don’t go agreeing to everything she wants because you’re afraid you’re going to lose her.”
“You give good advice,” I say.
“Too bad you rarely take it.”
“Not true.”
“Speaking of advice, how’s the apartment search going?”
“I’m going to, I promise. I’ve been really busy and I’m about to take a couple of trips and be gone for weeks and it seems silly to get a place that will immediately stand empty.”
Max sighs. “Just say you hate apartment hunting.”
“I hate apartment hunting.”
“Good thing I don’t.”
“You’ve found me an apartment?”
“No, I’ve found me an apartment. You can sub-let mine starting March 1.”
“I don’t want to kick you out of your place.”
“You aren’t. I’m ready for something bigger. Newer. That has an elevator.”
“Are you sure?”
“If it means I don’t have to see your naked ass walking through the house all the time, then yes.”
“You love my naked ass and you know it.”
“In your dreams.” Max turns over. “Now, go away so I can get some sleep.”
I hug her from behind. “I love you, Maxine.”
“Call me that again and I swear to God no one will ever find your body.”
“You need to stop listening to true crime podcasts,” I say, and jump out of the bed, feeling lighter than I have in weeks.
“I need them to dull all of the emotional pain and baggage I have from my best friend,” she says, her voice muffled by the pillow.
I pause at the door. “I think you’re being sarcastic right now, but I can’t tell because of the pillow. We’ll revisit this one day. Promise. See? Look at me. Wanting to communicate all over the place. Who knew communication was the key?”
“Literally everyone,” Max says.
I close the door behind me and walk through the house to leave, saying goodbye to Max’s unsurprised parents on the way out.