Chapter Twenty-Two #2
“Good thing I’m only attracted to jawlines,” she says, pulling him away from us. “Not a thought in your head.”
Rett and Siler disappear while JJ pulls me over to a painting. Another by E.B. Houseman, this one strikes me as strange. Every other piece I’ve seen, whether a sketch or a painting, has been a realistic portrait. But this one is abstract. Light filtering through water or clouds.
A pinching sensation starts in my chest.
Out the window, I spot bobbing lights in the distance, moving along the path toward the stables.
Flashlights?
Three…
“It put up a fierce fight,” Aunt Amy declares, tossing her flip phone into the fire. Both JJ and I jump. One minute she seems lucid; the next she does or says something unhinged.
She glances at us, then points at me. “What did you say your name was again?”
“Bizzy… uh, Elizabeth, but your nephew gave me the nickname when we were kids.”
She turns back to stare at the fire. Just when I think she’s not going to say anything, she says without inflection, “I thought you’d be different.”
Should I try again and ask what that means? Engage her in conversation about Siler, the manor, or her duties as caretaker? Or should I take the hint and shut up?
JJ leans closer and whispers, “I don’t think context is coming to the rescue today…”
**
A noise wakes me up. Creaking hardwood floors, the wind outside, a door closing somewhere down the hall. Whatever it was, it startled me.
Patting the bed beside me, I realize Siler isn’t here. Still.
I waited for him until I couldn’t keep my eyes open any longer, hoping we’d have a chance to talk.
Is he avoiding me?
Where is Siler?
Was he outside with a flashlight earlier?
Switching on the lamp beside the bed, I dig through my bag for a robe when the power goes out.
The wind howling outside unnerves me.
Restlessly shifting on the bed, I pull my robe tightly around me. Unable to get comfortable, I gravitate to the window, noticing Aunt Amy’s golf cart is still parked near the entrance.
Do I stay in this room alone, freaked out or look for Siler?
I’m parched anyway. I’ll just get a drink and find him.
I slip into the hallway, quietly pulling the door shut behind me.
There’s a loud clunk and a whirring noise as a generator kicks in. A soft amber glow from light sconces in the hallway flicker on. Voices drift from a room at the end of the hall, the door cracked slightly.
Against my better judgement, I inch closer, catching pieces of conversation through the generator’s hum. “...did what I was… good friend… it’s not selfish,” Siler says, his voice agitated.
His aunt starts to say, “...family legacy… you can-”
Mya jumps in, cutting her off, “...it is selfish… basketball… not about you…”
“...didn’t ask for… she’s not sick any… have a life,” Siler’s back can be seen, his hands in his hair.
Mya replies, “...getting close to… not good… Tullis…”
“...Haven’t you ever… heard of… Cassandra effect?” Aunt Amy’s voice rises and I hear her say, “The most brutal lesson I ever learned is that inside every person you know is a person you don’t.”
Siler backs up toward the door. “I get to have a life, too. Biz is fine. She doesn’t need me anymore.”
I scramble away from the door, my eyes tearing up. I was an obligation to him—one of my worst fears realized. The only person in my life I remember, no matter what. The one I held onto when I got sick…
Wants to be rid of me.
The last place I want to be is this estate now. I turn and quickly grab my things from the bedroom we were sharing, intending to find Liz and Jen’s room. Camping out on the floor or a chair is better than being in Siler’s space.
It’s okay. I didn’t want to sleep tonight anyway.
“Biz?” Rett whispers loudly behind me in the hall. “Why are you up?”
Bad instincts? Atrocious luck?
He’s dressed in black, his shoes tracking mud. It doesn’t take much to deduce he was one of the people with a flashlight in the dark earlier.
“Better question… where were you?”
I sniff back the tears, reminding myself time is limited.
My world is bigger now… JJ, Rippley, Rett… my mystery guy, Liz, Jen.
I can keep my problems to myself. Live like a normal college student.
“Pretend you didn’t see me sneaking around? Pretty please?” He’s hard to say no to. “Looks like you’re on the run. Siler snore?”
“Like a buzzsaw.”
My white lies are piling up.
I follow him back to the room he’s sharing with JJ.
They convince me to stay with them, sleeping in the middle of the bed with pillows separating us. It’s a challenge to slow my racing heart, to quiet my thoughts. The impulse to hold JJ has me gripping my pillow like it’s the only thing keeping me in place.
“G’night, darling.” JJ reaches over the pillows to smooth my hair back.
Rett hops into bed after stripping down to his boxers. “Anyone else wide awake?” he asks.
There is no way I’m falling asleep.
Turning onto my back, I squeeze my eyes shut. I can’t let myself think about where I’m lying or who I’m lying between. There’s an impulse so strong to let my curiosity, my attractions, lead me down a path there’s no coming back from.
But…
“Are you awake?” Rett whispers beside me as he keeps readjusting to get comfortable. “Biz?”
“Mmhm.”
JJ slides closer to the pillow between us. “I can’t get back to sleep.”
Being around them, listening to them joke with one another, I’m able to push back the edge of pain from Siler’s words earlier. I didn’t hear everything he said. Maybe, just maybe, it wasn’t what it sounded like. Or maybe it was worse.
Stop. Stop thinking about it.
The atmosphere feels charged, the pillows are askew, we’ve shifted closer together, and one of my legs is resting casually over JJs.
“What are you thinking about, pretty girl?” JJ asks quietly, his hand running down my cheek. He’s so close, just a fraction of an inch away. A tilt of my head and our lips would meet. But Rett is right here, too close for comfort, my arm grazing his chest.
Although… that's a tricky question, isn’t it? I’m thinking about his hands on me, about his consuming kiss. I’m wondering how it would feel to kiss Rett. And I’m also thinking that I need to live in the present. Tomorrow I may not feel physically well.
I make the first move.
A light kiss to his lips. In a breathy voice I say, “That… and more.”
As Rett shifts behind us, I hear a sound of surprise from him before he says, “Am I being displaced?” He chuckles. “Damn.”
But I don’t want him to leave…
What in the hell are you doing, Elizabeth Jeanine?
“Wait.” I turn to look at Rett, then back to JJ. My eyes search his.
What magic words do I need to say to make this okay with him? Hey, can your friend join us?
Because losing JJ isn’t an option for me. I’ve been falling in love with him since the day we met.
“Biz?” He half smiles. “What’s going on?”
Rett speaks up, sitting behind me. “JJ… do you want me to draw you a diagram?”
JJ kisses my arm. “Well, Everett, I don’t want to assume what my girlfriend means.”
Girlfriend?!
I love the way that sounds… and the fact he’s claiming me as his.
His statement makes me bolder.
“I want you.” I lean my head against JJ’s. Adding softly, “...and him.”
Rett leans against my back, his voice strangled when he says. “I’m suddenly very damn happy I’m here.”
…what about Rippley? What about the blue-eyed, magnetic man of my dreams? What the actual hell am I doing?
JJ is silent, his eyes searching my face. He kisses me tenderly, deepening it before pulling me closer. When he finally pulls back, his gaze stays locked on mine.
“Two things I want to make clear… I love you. Only you. And I’m not touching my best friend.”
Rett lets out a laugh, “Yeah, I’m not interested in that either.”
“I love you, too. Please don’t touch your best friend.” My laugh is half relief. It’s greedy to want them both, but I keep that to myself.
There’s no time to be nervous. Not even a thought in my head. I’m in good hands as Rett takes off my robe and pajamas. JJ removes his boxer briefs, watching me, his eyes taking me in.
He has a way of looking at me that strips me bare.
It’s almost an emotional overload looking at their naked bodies. JJ’s lean, muscular frame draws my eyes, the “V” of his hips pulling in my gaze toward his incredible length. My hands want to touch him, to feel him under my fingers.