I shimmy across the drop cloths to her. “Come with us.”
Her face scrunches, shifting her glasses to the bridge of her nose. “What? No.”
“Why not?”
“Because.”
“You already graduated, and whatever job you land wouldn’t start until after we’re back,” I say. “One weekend, Doe. Consider it a party to kick off the season and celebrate your next chapter.”
The last twenty-four hours are the most time we’ve spent together without interruption. It’s hard not to want to be aroundher now that we’re in the same city. I want to see her with her hair down, like it is tonight. After years of studying, she deserves it before she goes back to a life of classrooms—or whatever engineers spend their time theorizing about.
Miriam bites her lip and stares at the stack of cardboard in the corner. We unpacked every box and had groceries delivered so she can cook tomorrow. We would’ve finished painting her room if I hadn’t distracted her with random rugby pictures on my phone or dance moves she’s been dodging.
Two dimples pop. She adjusts her glasses. “I’llconsidergoing under two conditions.”
“Name ’em.”
“We have separate rooms, and I get to skip any activities that require a year’s worth of energy.”
“Deal.” I nod and stretch out my hand. When she shakes it, I pull her off the floor.
“Antonio, no! I didn’t say yes!” She cackles in a weak attempt to shoo me away. “We won’t finish at the rate we’re going.”
“I think we’re done. One last dance.”
“No!” Her snort causes a hiccup. “I’ll pee if I laugh any harder.”
“We got the drop cloths down. Aht—no, you don’t.” I chuckle at her attempt to go limp and take her painter’s brush between my teeth so I can hold her up.
“Antonio!” Her palms press into my white tee. She tries to push me away, but there’s no force behind it.
“E-yea-e-yea-e. E-yea-e-yea-e-yea-e-yeah!” My words muffle around lacquered wood. It’s a challenge to serenade her like this, but I do it with a George Jefferson two-step and a hip bump.
Her shoulder lifts before she fully commits and moves her body. Her black biker shorts have been fucking with me all night. The nylon spandex rests above her knees but clings to her fleshy thighs like paint. There’s no gap, only curves and wide hipsthat mock me for missing out on the chance to access the feast between her legs.
I spin her and adjust myself in my jeans. Her rose body oil lingers under my nostrils as I twist and turn her, savoring every giggle.
“Okay, okay.” Her laughter bounces off her simple V-neck shirt and the large breasts beneath it.Eyes up. “The paint needs to dry, and you missed a spot, Happy Feet.”
“The hell I did!” I snatch the paintbrush from my mouth. “My side is immaculate.”
We transformed the room from a basic white to a light green shade. I’ve helped D with his construction business enough times to know how to paint and how much to apply.
I always lay it on thick, but my shit is even.
Miriam lets out a breath. “I don’t know. That spot looks bare to me.”
My nostrils flare, but I’m all bark and no bite. “Okay, Bob Ross. Here you go.” I hand her the paintbrush so she can inspect the built-in shelving above the headboard.
She wanted to do this side of the room herself. It made no sense since she had to use the stool she fell off of yesterday to reach everything. I kept an eye on her just in case and was surprised she stayed upright the entire time.
Miriam is the clumsiest person I’ve met—withglasses on.
“I know I didn’t miss a spot. I don’t miss,” I mutter over a half-used can of paint next to the discarded brush. “Watch her trip over the tarp trying to reach a spot at my height.” I shake my head and stand. “Miri—”
I’m halfway up before she hits me with paint. It’s a direct chest shot that ricochets across my arms.
A sinister grin stretches across her face. “Now we’re done.”
