Chapter Twenty-Eight
After a few moments, Marlon began to scratch at the door and whimper. “Sorry, buddy,” I said mostly to myself. “It’s every mammal for themselves right now.”
And then there was a knock.
Maybe I could ignore it.
“Vera?” Eli called.
Marlon continued to scratch and whimper.
“Can Marlon and I come in?”
“No,” I yelled back from under the blankets. “Go away, go away, go away,” I muttered.
“That was a good example of how coming in and out of each other’s rooms should work, so good job setting a boundary. But seriously. You don’t have to make this weird. We should talk.”
“I’m not making this weird,” I said. “This is weird.”
“Come on, Vera.”
Yes, this was weirder than weird, but I also didn’t have any other immediate housing prospects. Eli and I couldn’t avoid each other forever, though I could certainly try if Morgan would let me conduct my job from the safety of my own bed with the covers pulled over my head.
With a huff, I threw my blankets back and stalked over to the door.
Marlon trotted in as I opened it just a crack and then darted back under the covers. It was better under here, where I could be mortified in peace.
The mattress sunk beside me as Eli sat down. “You gonna stay under there?”
“I’d rather not make eye contact right now.”
My headboard creaked as he leaned against it. A thrilling warmth unfurled from my belly button and radiated outward. The last thing I needed was to be mortified and turned on at the same time, but here we were.
“That wasn’t anything you haven’t seen,” Eli said.
“Not in twenty years,” I reminded him.
“Nineteen,” he corrected. “Vera, come on. We’re two grown adults sharing eight hundred square feet. Something like this is bound to happen.”
“No.” I shook my head beneath the covers. “It is not.”
He was quiet for a moment too long and the curiosity was enough for me to lower the blankets so I could peer up at him.
As I emerged, he slid down beside me on his side and propped his head in his hand. His breath smelled like coffee, and I couldn’t look at his hands without picturing his wrist disappearing under the sheets and that look of desperate arousal he’d worn on his face.
“Vera, I hate to break it to you, but I think it’s safe to say that at some point in time one of us is going to be masturbating while the other person is home. We just need—”
“Speak for yourself.” I bit down on my lower lip in an effort to shut myself up.
The muscle in his jaw jumped as he looked down at me from under those unfairly long brown lashes.
“Vera.” He said my name like he was scolding me, and holy hell, the way my body responded to that was absolutely godless.
“If you’re saying you only treat yourself to a little self-care when I’m not home, that is severely limiting your—”
I yanked the blankets back over my head to hide my violently red cheeks. “We are so not talking about this.”
“Maybe we should, though. We could at least establish a schedule. I’d hate to barge in on your morning activities.”
“I’m not— I don’t—” My words erupted into a frustrated groan.
Slowly, he peeled the blankets back, so that he could see me again.
I instantly regretted not getting dressed before going in search of Marlon.
Whether it was from exposure to the air or the fact that my brain was currently a pornographic wasteland, my nipples had pebbled beneath my cropped black tank top.
My breasts spilled out the armholes so that the curve of my chest was exposed on either side.
I lost myself in his lips as he sucked in a shallow breath. His gaze left a trail of heat from my throat and over my chest as he assessed my current clothing situation. “Vera Stein, are you saying you don’t masturbate?”
“Yes,” I said. “Wait. No.” I shook my head, giving up on words altogether.
“Have you— You’ve had an orgasm, right?” His voice was even and judgment-free and so much like the calm, certain tone he used at work when talking to residents.
Despite the smooth quality of his voice, I found myself resenting him for using his patient voice on me.
“If you recall, you were there for one of them.” My throat felt warm and tight, the memory of us in that hotel room still so fresh and yet frustratingly distant.
I sat up a little, holding my arms over my chest in a feeble attempt at modesty.
“People fake it sometimes. I was young and not nearly as adept as I am now. I guess if you’d been faking it, though, you did put on a good show.”
I forgot my embarrassment for a moment, letting out a sharp guffaw. “Adept, you say?”
He leaned toward me with a dastardly smirk. “Quite.”
The shape his lips took as he spoke was mesmerizing, and I felt like an absolute pervert thinking about the things I would like to do to those lips or see them do to me.
“My eyes are up here, Vera.”
I threw myself back against my pillows. “I didn’t fake it with you, Eli. There. Are you happy?”
“Elated,” he crooned. “Smug, even.”
Everything was too hot. My skin felt like it was two sizes smaller than my body and even the soles of my feet ached. “Can you just leave so we can pretend this never happened?”
“That depends,” he said. “Is it going to be awkward now?”
“Well, if you won’t shut up, then I’ll have no other choice than for it to be awkward.”
“It doesn’t have to be. I don’t want it to be.”
“Good,” I said, willing myself to believe him because I certainly didn’t believe in my own ability to be at ease. “Fine.”
“Fine,” he echoed. “I better get ready for work.”
Fuck.
Work.
I had literally forgotten that time outside of this room even existed.
“I’ll be quick,” he said as he got up and strode out of the room. “Then the bathroom is all yours.”
“Thanks,” I told him, and finally pulled the blankets back over me as he stood up and began to walk away.
“My pleasure.”
I waited until he had crossed the threshold of my doorway before I decided to torture him with a fraction of what he’d just put me through.
“Eli?”
He paused, his hand gripping the top of the doorframe. “Yes, love.”
Oh god, the core temperature of my body could not currently handle a pet name, but somehow, I found it in me to push past the horny desperation raging inside of me. “I’m more of an evening girl. Helps me fall asleep.”
He froze for a moment, eyes wide and unsated, and then a placid doctor persona smoothed over his features. “I’ll take that under consideration.”
I listened as he walked down the hall and his door clicked shut. The moment he was out of earshot, I threw the blankets over my head again and let out a muffled scream into my pillow.
ELIAS BUCKLEY
SEVENTEEN YEARS AGO
PUBLIC DISTURBANCE
Vera marched with purpose into the casino. She wove through slot machines and poker tables, like she knew just what she was looking for.
Brody skipped behind her looking like some sort of disturbed sidekick.
Then she stopped abruptly and took a few deep breaths before turning back to us. “Be ready to run.”
“Oh shit!” Brody bounced forward as he followed her again.
I stayed close behind, suddenly thankful that I’d remained sober.
She walked directly into the sports bar, where crowds of viewers teetered on the edge of their seats, most of them likely to have big money riding on their chosen sporting event.
Vera stopped short behind a huge, hulking beefcake with a shiny bald head.
He wore a fitted white button-up and black slacks that clung to his muscular thighs.
A gold chain sat snug around his veiny neck.
The man was a walking warning label for steroid abuse.
“I don’t like where this is going,” I said, but Brody wasn’t listening.
In an act of unhinged bravery, Vera tapped on the man’s shoulder.
He turned around, obviously annoyed that someone had the nerve to touch him.
It took a second for him to look down, and it was obvious that he did not expect to find Vera Stein there in her jeans, vintage Pepperdine T-shirt, red cardigan, and Converse.
“What’s her name?” Vera yelled. “What’s her name, Bobby?”
“Who the hell is Bobby?” the man asked, his friends all leaning in for the show.
Vera pointed to the men and handful of women behind him, all dressed for a night of clubbing. “Oh, so you’re not just lying to me? You’re lying to all of them too?”
“Tyler, what’s this about?” asked a woman a few feet behind him.
The man quickly went from panic to rage. “Lady, I don’t know who you are or what you’re on, but—”
“You don’t know the mother of your own children?” Vera screeched.
I turned to Brody, his eyes full of glee and jaw practically on the floor, and that’s when I saw the security guards starting to fill in. “Uh, it might be go time,” I said.
Brody looked around with a childish giggle and then nodded before we both stepped closer to Vera. But then she grabbed a beer from the nearest table and splashed it right into the guy’s face.
“You fucking bitch!” the man roared and surged forward without any sort of compunction about going after a girl.
Okay, this was about to get bad. Don’t get me wrong. I was impressed. But I didn’t think I could fight off this guy if it came down to it. The best Brody could do was a convincing stage punch and I came from a family full of insured hands.
I grabbed Vera’s arm and she spun around, her eyes full of adrenaline and a hint of fear. “Come on,” I told her, tilting my chin back to the security guards.
With barely a thought for Brody, I pulled her behind me as we snaked through the crowd.
Hopefully we would get lost in the swarms of people.
I knew these places were covered in cameras, but maybe a bookish-looking girl in a cardigan causing a scene with some guy who looked like a walking mug shot would be low on the priority list.
I glanced over my shoulder to see Brody splitting off toward the exit and a group of security guards on his heels.
“This way,” I told Vera.