I set the bowl on the cushion between us, cranked up the volume, and turned my attention to the show. It took Will a little time to stop sending me loaded glances and pay attention to the episode, but it wasn’t long before he was laughing with me. He asked me to pause and catch him up on the story lines, and joined my running commentary about the characters.
“Is this what people mean when they say ‘Netflix and chill’?” he asked, and I almost dropped my wine in the process. There were odd bits of pop culture that Will missed out on while he was deployed.
“No,” I said. “No, that’s something else. Something different.”
“Either way,” he murmured, “this is surprisingly good.”
We watched the last half of the season, and when I announced that I needed my beauty rest, he gave me a sad smile, patted my head, and retreated to the guest room without a word.
When I plugged in my phone for the night, I was surprised to see a recent text from him.
Will:What are you doing?
Shannon:Getting into bed. Why?
Will:At least tell me what you said to Douchelord
Shannon:None of your fucking business
Will:You threw two dozen limes at me tonight
Shannon:…and your point?
Will:Have I not earned the information?
Shannon:I told you. He’s back on the market. That’s more than enough intel
Will:You’re there. I’m in here. One of us is in the wrong place.
Shannon:You sound like you’re 13 and trolling on pinterest
Shannon:Your text game has suffered
I closed the text window, and opened a new one to Andy and Lauren.
Shannon:sorry ladies. Have to skip lunch tomorrow…errr it’s today now. Headed to Swampscott for an open house. Have a mimosa for me. Or six.
I often bowed out of our weekend lunches for property shopping. They wouldn’t think anything of it as I’d skipped most outings in recent months, and I wouldn’t have to look Lauren in the eye and conceal the fact her brother was in my apartment, recovering from a fruiting attack. It wasn’t the same as concealing the fact I’d hooked up with the very same brother for months, or that I’d omitted huge portions of the truth when she inquired about my travels. She’d be pissed at me about the weekends, but she’d strangle us both if she found out he was in town and avoiding her.
Staring at my phone, I debated firing off some hostile texts to Gerard. I didn’t believe in kicking corpses and I didn’t have the time or patience for vengeance, but someone needed to throw a flag on the play he ran tonight.
“Such a dick weasel,” I said, studying his name in my contact list. Deleting him was the smarter option. The last thing I needed was Mr. Pemberton whispering about my old, dried-up prune of a pussy all over town. “But I can send a case of herbal erectile dysfunction pills to your office.”
The door burst open, and Will—wearing only boxers and a t-shirt—leaned on the handle. “What the hell are you doing in here? Who are you talking to?”
I was still amused by the idea of Gerard getting a shipment of boner stimulants in his swanky office, and couldn’t shut down the giggles. “There’s nothing wrong with talking to myself. It was an important conversation.”
His eyes swept the room, and he shook his head before switching off the lamp. He stopped beside the bed, his fingertips tapping the duvet, and sighed. “You’re the weirdest one in your family, right? Tell me it doesn’t get any worse than this.”
My body was committed to the giggles now, much like jumping off a diving board. All the ridiculousness of this week catalyzed into laughter, and soon I was hugging my sides while my eyes watered. “Not even close,” I stammered.
Will muttered something under his breath and climbed into bed beside me. His arms wrapped around me, strong and warm and safe, and I didn’t push him away. How could I? How could I find the strength to protest when my heart requiredthis, when I’d spent the week stewing in my anger but wanting nothing more thanthis,when I’d spent months numbing myself to the memories ofthis.
I kept going back to that first night we were together, before the wedding, and how he could take me away from everything in my mind. I needed it then; I wanted it now.
Even if my head was busy mounting a bulletproof offensive.
“Now, listen to me,” he said. “I’m here for you—”
