Chapter 20
Chapter Twenty
Jonah
I wish I were sober right now. Maybe then I could process Vivian’s words. Did he really admit to getting off while thinking about me?
Holy shit.
“What’s wrong, Jonah?”
I shake my head. “My brain’s melted. I’m afraid to believe it.”
He studies me. “You need proof?”
“Yes. That’s exactly what I need. How can I get some of that?”
“Oh my God. You are too freaking adorable.”
Vivian raises up on his knees, so I have to tilt my head to look at him. And then he kisses me. This kiss isn’t as frantic as the others we’ve shared. He takes his time, brushing his fingers down my face. Down my neck. Touching my collarbone.
“Please, Vivian.” And now I’m begging.
“You understand we can’t—do much.”
He’s worried about me. It’s not something I expected from Vivian. But it makes me feel special. “What can we do?”
“Kiss,” he says, kissing me again.
“Kissing’s good. Really good.”
He places his hand on my chest. Can he feel how hard my heart is pounding? His fingers toy with the top button of my shirt. Unlike Vivian, I didn’t change after we returned from the bar. “Maybe some touching.”
I swallow. I’m burning up. And he’s teasing me. “Vivian.”
He smiles and pops the button open. His hand slips under my shirt. It’s cold from his drink, but that just makes it more exciting. He finds my hard nipple and pinches. Jesus Christ. I almost come in my pants.
“Vivian.” My voice is broken, needy.
He kisses me again, biting my bottom lip. “Why is everything more intense with you? I’m not sure this is a good idea. I really want to wait—but I really don’t want to at the same time.”
Then he backs away and holds up his hand to prove his innocence. Nothing about Vivian is innocent.
But it does get me thinking. “Have you done—” I wave my hand. “It before?”
“Kissed a guy? Had sex? You need to be more specific, doll.” He gestures as he talks, and then he stops and raises a brow. “Submitted to someone?”
My face heats up. “That last one.”
He shrugs. “A few times. Although I’ve never found anyone I really clicked with.”
“Would you…?” Why is this so hard? I clear my throat. “Would you teach me what to do?”
“God, Jonah, I’d love to do that. You don’t even know. But we’d have to have rules. I mean, of course, those kinds of rules, but also rules about us.” He puts his drink on the end table and stretches out his arms. “I’m not really relationship material.”
I’m not sure I believe that, but I nod. “Casual. I mean, it’s not like we could actually be together. Our parents would never accept it.”
He sighs heavily and then smiles. “The first thing you need to know is that a lot of stuff on the internet is wrong. And porn is definitely wrong—unless you know where to look.”
“And you’ll show me where to look.”
“I will.” He kisses my nose. “But not tonight. We both need sleep.”
Our party for two ends soon after. Unlike my roommates, I don’t drink that often, so my tolerance is shitty. I change into my sleep shorts and brush my teeth. It’s not until I’m back in the room, staring at Vivian curled on one side of the bed, that I remember.
There’s only one bed.
“Uh, Vivian? Do you want me to sleep in the chair?” The armchair in the corner doesn’t look that comfortable.
“Don’t be ridiculous. Get in.”
I slip under the sheets. The bed is big enough for us not to touch, but I’m hyperaware of Vivian being so close. How am I going to sleep like this?
I want to hold him. Breathe in his scent. Tuck his body into mine where it belongs.
Vivian scoots until he’s curled into me. He takes my arm and wraps it around his body. “I didn’t like you being that far away. Is this okay?”
“Yeah.” I take a few deep breaths to relax. “Vivian?”
“Yes, Jonah?”
“You’re really going to teach me?”
He turns in my arms so he’s facing me. God, he’s so beautiful. “I will. I’ll teach you everything you want to know. But there’s one thing I need you to do for me, Jonah.”
I’m almost afraid to ask. “What’s that?”
He kisses me sweetly. “Ask me again when you’re sober.”
“Stop talking.” Vivian scowls at me.
We’re in the hotel dining room having breakfast. He’s wearing sunglasses to hide his bloodshot eyes.
I bite back a smile. “I can’t say good morning?”
“You can. If you say it quietly.” He pours more creamer into his already sugary coffee. “So quietly that it’s just in your head.”
“Okay,” I mouth, without making a sound.
“Ugh. Still too loud.” He grabs his coffee and retreats to our table.
Hungover-Vivian is surprising but also adorable. Like a grumpy kitten. I keep those thoughts to myself because Vivian will lash out, not caring who gets injured.
I don’t feel great, but I’m doing better than him. I fill my plate with bacon, eggs, and potatoes, glad that I still have my appetite.
I might be the only one.
“One bite,” Dad says, holding a fork up to Maisy.
I’m not sure why Dad is trying to feed her when she usually doesn’t need help. But she shakes her head at the offer of a waffle. That answers one question, but it brings up others. Waffles are her favorite food, so I’m not sure what’s going on.
Carolynda stares at the lone piece of toast on her plate. Her lips are pressed tightly together. Is she upset?
I sit across from Vivian. He ignores everyone and sips his coffee.
The room is noisy around us. The clink of silverware on plates. The television blaring on about a record heat wave for this time of year. Laughter from teen girls at the table next to us. At our table, the silence seems to last forever. “We’re a lively group this morning.”
“In your head, Jonah.” Vivian takes a slow sip of coffee and gives me a warning glare that I ignore. He’s not the boss of me.
“Poor baby,” I say with a chuckle.
This time, the silence is louder as Dad and Carolynda stare at us, their gazes ping-ponging between Vivian and me.
“You’re getting along?” Dad asks with what sounds like wonder and a bit of suspicion in his voice.
Vivian telling me to be quiet doesn’t bother me, but Dad’s question does, for some reason. “Wasn’t that the point of this trip?”
Dad sets his fork down. “Being together as a family is the point of this trip, Jonah—”
“Please don’t argue.” Carolynda gives Dad an imploring look. Then her gaze shifts to Vivian. Her brows furrow. “Did you boys get into a fight?”
“No. We’re getting along.” Vivian glances at me and then back to his mom.
“Then what happened to your cheek?”
The makeup doesn’t cover the bruise completely, but it’s so faint that we didn’t think anyone would notice. Vivian covers his cheek. “It’s nothing. It was an accident.”
Their eyes turn to me. “Hold up. I didn’t do this. The guy in the bar was gesturing wildly and—”
“You went to a bar?” Dad sounds angry, but I have no idea why.
“We’re adults,” I remind him.
“This is a family trip—”
“Are you kidding me?” I say loudly.
The sounds around us stop. Oops. That might have been a little too loud. Taking a deep breath, I ignore everyone else in the dining room. Glancing at Vivian, I ask, “You want to help me out here?”
“You’re doing fine.” He sounds amused.
For the record, Dad is not. “Don’t raise your voice at me, Jonah.”
“No one needs to raise their voice,” Carolynda says carefully.
I keep my voice low. “Don’t treat me like a child, Dad. You were in your room. Family time was over.” I shake my head, trying to keep from blowing up again. “You asked us to get along, and now you want to complain when we do?”
Carolynda jumps to her feet, knocking her chair over. She starts to say something and then shakes her head and runs out of the room.
“Is she okay?” I ask, wanting a real answer this time.
“I— She’s not feeling great. Can you boys take care of Maisy while I check on her?” And then, Dad is gone.
“You cleared the room, Jonah.”
“That wasn’t—”
His smile stops my words. It’s small, but it packs a big punch. “Finish your bacon.” He nods at the pile still on my plate. “Then we can get Maisy cleaned up and check on Mom.”
I finish eating while Vivian grabs a wet wipe from Maisy’s bag to clean her hands. Not being hungry didn’t stop her from playing in the syrup.
Vivian barely gets started when he hesitates. “Jonah?” His eyes meet mine. “She’s burning up.”
Vivian takes Maisy to our room while I knock on our parents’ door. Dad answers, his eyes filled with panic.
“Whatever it is, I need you to handle it.” He rubs his hand over his eyes. “Carolynda’s throwing up.” He tries to shut the door, but I put my foot in to stop him.
“Maisy has a fever. We need meds.”
A sob breaks free, and Dad turns away. Have I ever seen him cry? Maybe at grandpa’s funeral. But not since. Not even when Mom left.
What in the hell is going on? But now isn’t the time to ask.
I follow him into the room. He’s still shaking his head and trying not to cry. I squeeze his arm. “Dad, it’s going to be okay. You take care of Carolynda, and we’ll take care of Maisy.”
He nods and gives me a grateful smile. “Let me check the bags. I know we brought Tylenol.”
Things settle down after that. We take turns holding Maisy. She’s clingy when she’s sick. I’d probably know that if I were around more. Carolynda doesn’t get better, so Dad takes her to the emergency room for IV fluids.
Maisy has a fever off and on all day. Vivian coaxes her into eating a few bites of apple sauce and one bite of toast. She keeps it all down, which is a relief.
It’s my turn to hold Maisy, so I sing Jason Aldean to her and kiss her forehead. This isn’t what I was expecting to do today. The schedule I painstakingly made is totally fucked. I laugh.
“What?” Vivian is on the bed, and it looks like he’s texting someone on his phone. He finally glances up. “You’re staring.”
I ignore his comment. “We’re supposed to be at the Durango & Silverton Railroad Museum right now. Dad was so excited about it.”
Vivian’s phone beeps, and he picks it up, looks at it, and then throws it down. “Nothing on this trip has gone according to plan. It’s been a mess from day one.”