“No,” he says, his hands still covering his eyes. “Just me.”
I switch places with Elias. Now I drag him up the stairs. “We’re staying in Elias’s room,” I tell my brother.
“Can you please stay in your room? So we don’t share a wall?” he pleads.
“Fine,” I call down the stairs.
I hear the volume on the television turn way the fuck up.
On the second floor landing, Elias scoops me up in front of him, wrapping my legs around his waist, walking me down the hall while gorging on my mouth. He silently presses me against the door to my bedroom. His hand moves under my sweater, and he groans when he feels the lace covering my tits.
“Inside,” I breathe.
“Too soon,” he groans, sucking on my neck.
“No, inside my room, Elias.”
Mouth hot on mine, he maneuvers his hand behind me, searching for the knob, stumbling in when he gets the door open.
Somehow, we pull apart and stand, looking around the vacation house bedroom I’ve had since I was a child. Elias’s room is just past the bathroom, Leo’s room just past his. On the wall next to my door hangs a cork board, old pictures of us pinned up by thumb tacks. Most are of the three of us—of me, Leo, and Elias. But there are a couple of just me and Elias, a distinct foreshadowing. A scrawny arm slung around my neck, crooked grin and Dimple on display. Me, beaming up at him as if he’s my whole world.
Elias comes to stand behind me, wrapping his arms around my shoulders and resting his chin on my head. “Look how long I’ve loved you for,” he whispers.
I close my eyes, feeling the warmth of him at my back, surrounded by his mass and the smell of his soap and laundry detergent mixed with the familiar mustiness of this old room. “Forever,” I agree.
A bell rings downstairs, waking me and Elias up from our post-breakfast nap.
“Roberts and Miller families! Your presence is requested in the dining room, where an Elaborate Lunch awaits!” Auntie Pam yells.
Elias stretches his huge body, the afternoon sun shining through his curls, making him resemble an incredibly handsome lion. “What do you think we’re having?”
“I saw like ten different cheeses in the fridge this morning,” I say, rolling out of bed and padding over to my suitcase. My white lace teddy lies on top, only slightly ripped around the crotch area. Elias couldn’t be bothered to take the entire thing off, so he just pulled the bottom to the side before pushing inside me. Sadly (and sexily), it ripped in his haste.
I throw on a pair of leggings, and after deciding that none of my tops are comfy enough, I walk over to Elias’s suitcase and pull out the Princeton sweatshirt he’s had for almost twenty years.
“I was going to wear that,” Elias says, while pulling on his sweatpants.
“Too bad.”
He walks over and finds a t-shirt. He looks at me with a soft smile on his face. “You’re swimming in that.”
“I like it.”
“Me too.”
We walk downstairs where a spread is laid out on the dining room table.
“This looks amazing, Auntie Pam,” I say, walking over to give her a hug. She kisses both my cheeks.
“Can you walk us through the menu?” Leo says, walking in behind us.
“Everything on this table is homemade by me and your mother,” Auntie Pam tells us.
I walk over to give Uncle Mike and my parents a hug. “Thanks, mom.”
“Of course, darling,” she tells me warmly. “First, there’s a caviar service—a selection of caviar served with blinis, Creme Fraiche, chopped egg, and minced shallots.”
I find Elias again in the corner of the room, winding my arm around his waist. He slings an arm around my shoulder, drawing me in to kiss me.
