Chapter 13 Shane
THIRTEEN
SHANE
It’s almost one. I’ve been tossing and turning in bed for an hour, after a night of catching up on e-mails with Netflix on in the background, getting up to see if Willa came home every time I think I hear something, and trying to read one page of a Steve Martin book for forty-five minutes.
I came this close to waking up the kids just so they could keep me company.
The lavender isn’t working anymore.
I shouldn’t have had the coffee.
I shouldn’t have had that beer.
I shouldn’t have finger fucked the nanny in my garage right before she left to see my best friend.
Everything was good and on track, and now this shit again.
It’s been hours since I heard from Willa.
I keep wondering where she is. Who she’s with.
How many guys are trying to get into her pants.
If she’s still thinking about what happened earlier.
If she still feels good about it. If she can still remember the feel of my fingers between her legs, because I can’t forget her silky warm wetness.
“I want you to feel how wet I am for you.” Jesus.
Was that really the same girl with the Tiger Beat magazine who kissed the back of my hand?
Is it actually possible that the same woman who’s great with my kids is also a randy little minx?
Am I the luckiest man alive, or is this some big test?
Would having sex with Nico’s little sister mean that I pass or fail? Fuck. I may never sleep again.
“You awake?”
I open my eyes and turn my head toward the bedroom door.
She’s there.
She’s there, in my doorway, dimly backlit by the nightlight in the hallway. Wearing pajamas. Hair brushed straight and to one side.
Is she there? Am I dreaming?
She steps inside, carefully shuts the door, and tiptoes over to stand near the foot of my king-size bed.
“I just checked on the kids. Fast asleep.”
She’s here. I am the luckiest man alive. “Hi.”
“Hi. I think Summer snuck a pocket snack to bed. There are little cracker crumbs on her pillow.”
“Well…that way she’ll be able to find her way back to her pillow if she gets lost.”
“Is it okay if I sit here for a minute?”
I lift up the covers for her.
“Oh. No thanks.” She sits at the edge of the foot of the bed. I sit up. Okay, maybe I am being tested. “I don’t think I should be anywhere near your amazing hands or your beautiful mouth or your probably very pretty penis right now.”
“‘Pretty?’”
“Pretty badass penis is what I meant to say.”
“That’s more like it.”
“This is weird. It seemed like a really mature thing to do when I was downstairs, but it’s weird that I just came into your bedroom, isn’t it?”
“It’s weird that it’s not weird.”
“Okay.” She sighs. “I just wanted to make sure you don’t feel bad. About what happened tonight. Because I really don’t. Whether it was a bad idea or not. Whether it happens again or not. I just want to make sure we both feel good about it.”
“Okay. I feel good about it.”
“Okay.”
She stares at the door. I don’t want her to go.
“Did you have fun? With your friends?”
“Not really. I mean, I’m glad I went. It was great to see Nico perform, and he was so happy that I was there. I’ve never seen him with a band behind him before. I’m proud of him. Did you have fun? By yourself?”
“No.”
“Are we really this lame?”
“Pfft. Lame? Speak for yourself. I don’t know if you’ve heard, but I’m a movie star with a pretty badass penis, so I’m cool no matter what I get up to at night.”
She yawns. “Yeah. I should get to bed. I partied so hard.” She rolls her eyes.
Goddammit, I want her to get in bed with me. But not now. She’s right. When the kids aren’t here. When we can really be in bed together. Is that what she means? She stands up.
“I’ll make breakfast tomorrow so you can sleep in,” I tell her. “If you want to.”
“You sure? Did you get any sleep yet?”
I shake my head. “I will now, though.”
She smiles, so sweetly. She’s probably blushing. I wonder if she’s still wet for me, because I could be completely hard for her in three seconds.
But not now. She’s right.
“Good night,” she whispers.
Fuck it.
Before she reaches the door, I’m blocking it and my hands are up in her hair and I’m kissing her—not on the cheek, not with the intensity of earlier tonight…
I’m kissing her to let her know that I’m glad she came back and I can’t wait until tomorrow to kiss her again.
She’s surprised and relieved and responsive.
Her hands press against my chest—not pushing me away but leaning into me.
Her head falls back so I can kiss her neck and all over her beautiful clean face.
“Good night,” I whisper, kissing her on the mouth one last time.
Her eyes are still closed and she’s swaying a little when I reach for the door handle to open it.
She bites her lower lip, opens her eyes, and punches my bicep on her way out.
“Badass,” she whispers.
“Damn straight.”
I stand by the door until she’s downstairs and I’ve heard the door to her room close shut, and then I check on the kids before getting back into bed.
My alarm’s set for six and I’ll sleep soundly until then, knowing that everyone is home where they belong.
“Who’s ready for more pancakes? Chocolate chip this time.” This is my third batch of pancakes this morning. First batch was plain and a little burned. Second batch was blueberry and fucking awesome. This one is weird-looking but with chocolate chips, so who cares.
“Meee!” Maple syrup is dripping from Summer’s mouth. She always claims that she’s still hungry after I’ve cooked a meal, but I’m going to win this breakfast. It might take a few hours to clean this mess, but my breakfast game is strong this morning.
Lucky barely raises his left hand, elbow on the table, like an old drunk guy ordering another bourbon. Meanwhile he can barely lift his fork to get the turkey sausage and scrambled eggs into his mouth because he’s so full.
I’ve been keeping myself busy cooking every breakfast item I can cook, to keep from sneaking into Willa’s room and crawling between her legs. That counts as good parenting, right? It’s after eight, and she’s still not up yet. Is she in the shower? Should I check?
“Can we watch Pokémon?” Summer asks as she reaches for the remote for the kitchen TV.
“Pikachu!”
“You guys are watching Pokémon now? When’d that happen?”
“Willa showed us it. It’s fun. And weird. Like Willa,” my daughter says while turning on the TV before waiting for permission.
“Yeah? What’s the show about?”
The twins start explaining something about Ash and Pikachu and adventures, but I don’t really hear a word they’re saying because Willa has just walked in wearing a casual, loose-fitting dress that hits above the knee, with bare legs and bare feet and her hair is wet.
The birthday party doesn’t start until eleven, but I’m wondering if we can drop the twins off a couple of hours early. Is that wrong?
She just smiles at me from across the room and kisses the twins on their heads as they keep talking.
Should I make coffee? she mouths to me.
I nod. Yes. I want coffee. I also want to lay her out on the table and lick maple syrup off her naked body.
But not while the kids are here.
I haven’t completely lost my mind yet.
“Sounds fun,” I say once the kids have stopped talking. They could have told me they’re watching a snuff film as far as I know. I can’t stop staring at Willa’s legs.
“You sure you made enough food?” She glances over at me, grinning.
“Are you saying I shouldn’t also make waffles?”
“I want waffles!” Summer shouts out without looking away from the TV. Her plate is still piled full of pancakes, eggs, and turkey bacon.
“You guys are going to the trampoline party in a couple of hours, remember? For Riley’s birthday. Maybe don’t eat too much.”
“Oh yeah!” Lucky turns to look over at Willa. “Riley’s gonna be six!”
“Do we have birthday presents for Riley?” I ask Willa with an expression on my face that probably reads more like are you wearing panties right now, young lady?
“They’re in my room. I just wrapped them.” She smirks at me, daring me to carry her to her room and unwrap her.
I stroll over to where she’s making coffee and reach around her for a paper towel that I don’t really need.
“Are you okay driving them there, or should I?” Her damp hair smells so fucking good, she must have used sexy mermaid shampoo and then rolled around in a flower bed while sultry nymphs did a striptease by her head. Jesus, what is wrong with me?
“Yeah, I was planning on dropping them off. If you don’t mind tidying up the kitchen?”
“I fully intend to take care of this mess.” And I fully intend to take care of you as soon as we’re alone in this house.
“The trampoline place is in Woodland Hills,” she says, dusting pancake mix off my chest. “They’ll be there for two hours, and then all the kids get shuttled to Riley’s house in Brentwood for lunch and cake.
So we pick them up there at around two. You need to sign a waiver for the trampoline place online. Did you do that?”
I sign the waiver online, releasing the trampoline company of liability if my kids get injured.
Meanwhile I’m doing some frantic sex calculations in my head—on a Saturday morning, it’ll take Willa 35 to 50 minutes to drive each way.
That’ll give us maybe two hours alone together, tops.
I can live with that. We can get a lot done in two hours.
Happy birthday, Riley. I can’t wait to start celebrating.
When Willa brings me a cup of her amazing coffee, she whispers, “Just letting you know in advance that I’m on the pill. So take that into consideration.”
Fuck me.
Maybe I should hire an Uber to drive the kids to Woodland Hills. People do that, right?