20. Tilly
TWENTY
Tilly
Concealed Work: Some of the finest craftsmanship in an old New Orleans house sits where no one was ever meant to look: the back of a mantel, the underside of a stair, the inside face of a shutter. The man doing it knew that. He did it anyway.
I surface from sleep the way I usually do when the bed's too soft and the light's coming from the wrong side. This is how it goes when I'm not quite ready to wake, but the world is pulling me out anyway.
For three seconds I don't know where I am. I stare at a foreign white ceiling, notice the warm air, and a sheet that isn't mine.
Then it all catches up.
Rhodes is beside me, on his stomach, one arm thrown over the pillow. His face is turned toward me. My dress is in a dark puddle on the floor next to his shirt. My black thong is somewhere I can't see.
I slept with Rhodes.
Oh, my God. I had sex with Rhodes, and then I didn't go back to my villa, where Libba's probably awake already and wondering.
A pang of fear rushes through me, but as I lie still and wait for the regret to hit, it doesn't. It would make sense. We shook hands on this exact thing not being a thing. He's Coop's best friend, and this could never be a thing we do out in the open.
Right?
The whole family's scattered across this property in their own villas, and not one of them is far enough away to pretend this one away.
I can't blame him because I was the one who leaned in on that bench. I initiated this, even if I could read all over his face all weekend that he was thinking it, too. I wanted it, and lying here I still don't want to hand it back.
His face is doing nothing, slack, the delicious stubble coming in dark on his jaw. I've known this face my whole life. I've seen it laughing at Coop, and I've seen it go serious in a way that makes me want to throw things. I've never seen it three inches away from my face on a pillow.
His eyes open slowly, catching me staring, and I don't try to look away or act like I wasn't. Blinking away the sleep, those long, dark lashes splayed on his cheek every time his eyes close, he smiles gently.
"Hey," he says, his voice rough and extra sexy.
"Hey."
"You snored again."
"I did not snore."
"You do this little wheeze thing right at the end of your exhale. It's adorable." He rolls onto his side to face his entire body toward me.
"Were you watching me, or something? That's creepy."
"As a matter of fact, I was. I couldn't help myself. You're beautiful when you sleep."
I nudge his shoulder. "Am I a troll when I'm awake?"
"Not at all. Equally beautiful awake, just in a different way. You've got your armor down when you sleep."
"That's my Trojan horse. I never have my armor down."
"You did have a leg thrown over me half the night. Territorial, and I respect it."
"That was strategic. You run hot."
"I run hot." He hooks a finger in the sheet where I've got it clamped under my arm and tugs on it, testing. "This modesty is new. Because last night I'd have said modesty wasn't really your thing."
Heat gathers low in my stomach, and I don't hate it. "Last night was last night."
"Last night," he starts, and whatever he means to say catches somewhere behind his eyes. For a second, the joke disappears, but there's something else there. Then the grin comes back. "Last night you called me something I'm not repeating before coffee."
"Hmm." It's the best I can manage because I'm already shifting closer. I'm slick between my thighs, suddenly very aware that he's right here, warm and hard and close enough to touch.
His eyes drop to my mouth.
I close the last inch between us.
"You like?" he murmurs, his mouth barely brushing mine. "Say it again, and I'll remind you why."
I don't say it, reaching for him instead. A dumb and brave impulse is already halfway up my throat. I roll onto him, straddling him, when a knock lands hard on the door. Coop's voice comes right through it.
"Rhodes? You up, brother?"
The morning drops out from under me.
I'm off the mattress before I register what’s happening, pulling the sheet with me. Rhodes is faster, already at the end of the bed, pulling on the shorts from the floor. He catches my thong with his foot and kicks it under the bed.
"Bathroom," he mouths, pointing.
I grab my dress on the way, one shoe, and my phone.
The other shoe's under the window and there's no time.
I cross the tile and pull the bathroom door almost shut, leaving a crack so it doesn't make a sound, and fold myself down between the tub and the wall where the door would hide me.
My heart's slamming so hard I feel it in my teeth.
Shit. My clutch is on his floor somewhere. Coop's not going to inspect the floor. I hope. If I think about it, I'll lose it.
Then another thought knocks the wind out of me. If Libba wakes up, my bed is the first place she will go. If it's empty, that's a question with no good answer, and I don't need her going around asking where I am. I thumb the phone open, hands shaking.
Crashed on a bench on the terrace. Can you believe I slept outside in Italy?! do NOT let anyone worry, heading up soon after I find some strong coffee.
I send it. It's mostly true. There was a bench involved.
"You look like death," Rhodes says to my brother as they greet each other with their normal hand-slapping. I feel like the worst kind of person, hiding from my brother, listening to his conversation with his best friend, whom I slept with last night.
Oh, my god.
"Feel like it." Coop says in a gravelly voice. "Brought you what is being sold as a coffee. The barista downstairs gave me a thimble. I said grande, and she looked at me like I'd proposed."
"Hey, that's Italy for you."
I can tell Rhodes is freaking the fuck out, too. Maybe I'm projecting, but no one wants to hear about the small coffees in Italy, Cooper.
"Man, I need this to hit, or I need to get a beer. One or the other needs to kick this headache." The clink of a cup on wood. "Cain was trying to put us in the ground with that wine. Who serves that much wine?"
"A man in love."
"A man showing off." Coop laughs, then groans at his own laugh. "Car's picking me up in an hour. I hate flying hungover. Want to go for a swim with me before I leave? Might help, and there's no one down there."
I press into the cold plaster and stay still. Yes, go swim with him, Rhodes. Please go with him and give me an out.
“Maybe. Give me five.”
“For what?”
“To wake the fuck up, Coop. Damn, Bro.”
“You’re awake.”
“Barely. Go down there, and I’ll meet you if I decide I’m coming.”
“That means you’re bailing.”
“It means you literally woke me up. I want to splash some water on my face and brush my teeth. Is that too much to ask?”
“Asshole.”
“Hungover asshole.”
Coop laughs, then groans at himself. “Fine. Five minutes.”
“Go.”
“Bossy prick.”
“Get out of my room.”
I think Rhodes walks out with him because I don't hear any more conversation, just footsteps, then the heavy door shutting.
I don't move. I count to thirty, then again, and the room stays quiet.
Finally, I unfold my body, my knees stiff from holding myself like that so tightly.
I slip the dress over my head, holding it on my chest, and push the door open.
Rhodes is in the middle of the room, holding the little paper cup Coop brought.
I look at the cup, then back at the door. "Why are you being weird?"
"Um, I don't know. Maybe because your brother almost walked in on you in my bed."
"Yeah, and then I sat in fetal position on a cold tile floor while y'all talked about the size of coffee in Europe. Zip me up."
He turns me around and pulls the zipper up my back while I pick up the cup from the table and take a sip.
"You did great. I barely heard your heart trying to break your ribs," he says with a smile I've known my entire life, but now is somehow more endearing.
A laugh cracks out of me, and I slap a hand over my mouth, which only makes it worse.
"You think it's funny. I aged a decade. I looked my best friend in the eye and told him I had to piss so I couldn't hang with him. Which, I do have to piss, by the way."
"Go," I say, dropping to the edge of the bed. "Then you need to distract Cooper long enough for me to get back to my villa without walking straight into him wearing last night's dress."
He steps past me into the bathroom, and I can't help but hear him peeing. I don't know why, but I'm more shy about that than the fact that he saw me naked and called my name while I came.
"I'll coax him to the pool, and you can go around the back way. I doubt anyone else is up at this hour," he calls from the cracked door.
"Okay. Let's go. I'm getting anxious."
"Let's go," Rhodes says, coming out of the bathroom. He leans down and kisses me like we’ve been doing this forever. Five minutes ago I was straddling him, and now we're planning separate escape routes like criminals.
I already miss five minutes ago. I don't think we're going back there, and a part of me already mourns it.
"Why'd we do that?” I ask. "Hide, I mean."
He thinks about it.
"Because telling him this morning would've been insane. Not because it's wrong, but because it's ten hours old, and we need to wrap our heads around it first."
I turn that over. If I'd walked out and said Hey Coop, me and Rhodes, you know, bow chica bow bow, he'd have decided we'd both lost our minds. Everyone would. And they wouldn't be all the way wrong.
"I don't regret it," I say. He needs to hear that first. "I'm not hiding because I'm ashamed."
"Neither am I."
"But there's no word for this yet."
"No."
"So there's nothing to tell anybody."
Rhodes watches me for a second. "Exactly."
Something about the yet tugs at me, but I don't dwell on it.
"So nobody knows," I say. "For now, especially Coop and Libba."
"For now."
I stand and smooth my dress. It's a futile attempt to make it not look like it was ripped off and left in a crumple on the floor.
He fishes my other shoe out from under the window and my clutch out from behind the door. He puts them in my hands without a word, and then he goes down on one knee and comes up with my underwear hooked on one finger. The look he gives me while he holds it out garners a laugh from both of us.
I make it back to our villa without running into anyone, which feels like a major victory.
Libba's still asleep, one arm off the bed.
I've never been so relieved to find her passed out.
I know her passcode because we've had the same four digits since we were fourteen, so I grab her phone and delete my ridiculous text.
Now no one has to believe I slept on a bench in Italy.
I shower fast, pull on shorts and a real shirt. By the time I come out with wet hair, she's stirring, mumbling about a hike and not asking a single thing about where I slept last night.
My phone buzzes on the dresser.
Made the shuttle. Kissed everybody but didn't want to wake you and Libba. Had fun last night. Love you Til.
My thumb hovers. That easy warmth of his, and me standing in a room that isn't the one he thinks I slept in.
Sorry, dead to the world. I had so much fun with you last night. Thanks for making the trip. I know it meant a lot to Cain, too. Love you, Coop.
I set the phone down, and under the guilt there's a different thing I don't argue with. Coop's on a shuttle to an airport, headed back to another foreign land, and the rest of the week is just here. Sun and terraces and a coast I haven't seen.
And Rhodes.
I find him on the terrace an hour later, two proper coffees in front of him. When he sees me, he slides the second cup toward my side of the table.
“What’s everybody doing today?” He asks.
“Libba’s hiking with Banksie and a couple of the cousins. With Banksie going, I'm not sure how rigorous it will be. Reeves and Charli are doing something with a boat later. I think some of them are heading down the coast this afternoon.”
“You thinking Vespa ride down the coast? I heard you mention something about it last night.”
“Yeah. Seems quintessential Italy.”
He takes a drink of coffee. “That sounds better than hiking. Mind if I join?”
“Anything sounds better than hiking. Not at all.”
“Cool.”
I don’t give it away, but I’m looking forward to spending the day with him, which shouldn't be noteworthy. We've known each other forever. But somehow it does.
"You eat yet?" he asks.
"No."
"There's bread and about nine kinds of jam in there. Somebody left a whole basket." He nods at the villa. "I could bring some out."
"You could sit down and let me get it."
"I could." He sits down.
I bring the basket out, and we tear pieces off the loaf, and I try three jams. I end up liking the fig the best. He disagrees on purpose, I think, to watch me defend it. Below us, the sea's doing that hard bright blue that doesn't look real, cliffs dropping straight into it, lemon on the air.
Cain and Greer left at the crack of dawn, apparently. They are going to Greece for their honeymoon. Must be nice to have more money than God.
Two days ago, this view did nothing but make me miss my mother. Same water today, and it doesn't feel like something she's missing. It feels like something I get to have.
I send Helen a picture of the lemons. She's the one who taught me about the sparkling water and a lime. That's her signature drink, except with lemons.
"That town," Rhodes says. "The clear water. You still want to see your feet?"
"I do."
I look at the coast, at the road threading the cliffs toward wherever we're going, and I count without meaning to. We have four days before we fly home and turn back into sensible people with rooms down the same hall and a story we don't tell.