“I thought,” he said, “all beautiful American high-school girls dated athletes.”
I rolled on my side, mimicking his head prop, and slid my leg between his so now our legs were entangled. “I guess I’m not all that pretty or not that much of an American.”
“You’re certainly both.” He leaned in and kissed me.
“In school, I didn’t have time to date,” I said. “I was busy studying and working. I had to make sure I’d get multiple scholarships and grants.”
And then I never finished college.
“Tell me more about yourself,” he said.
“What do you want to know?”
“Everything.” He smoothed my fallen hair away from my face, tucking strands behind my ear.
“That’s thirty-plus years of things.”
“Then tell me five things that nobody knows about you.”
“Hmm.” I bit my bottom lip, thinking. What did I want to share with this man who no longer felt like a stranger but someone I had known all my life? Once this trip was over, Andrew’s and my paths would never cross again. I could share with him anything I wanted, and I sensed he wouldn’t judge me for any of it. The familiar ache of loneliness uncoiled in the pit of my stomach. We were covered in sex and sweat, and I already missed Andrew. I already hated the thought of going back to my old life, where he wasn’t part of it.
“The reason I don’t like when people start explaining with the word ‘well’…” A prickling sensation ran at the back of my neck. Over twenty years have passed. This shouldn’t have bothered me anymore, but my gaze dropped to Andrew’s chest, and I focused on its dark hairs. “When our father left us, his last lie was ‘Well, I’ll just run out to get some smokes.’ It stuck with me. Even William doesn’t know it. He keeps poking fun at me, and I let him. I do the same to him about his fear of dark water.” Andrew laced his fingers with mine, and my gaze met his. And, of course, my heart tripped over its beat because a thought crossed my mind. The thought of how it would feel to wake up next to Andrew every day. The only probable answer to that question was: great. Wonderful. Spectacular. Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious.
Yep. That was a word in the English dictionary:
su·per·ca·li·fra·gil·is·tic·ex·pi·a
·li·do·cious
| ?so?op?r?kal??fraj??listik?ekspe?al?'doSH?s |
ADJECTIVE: Waking up next to Dr. Andrew Jones; being next to Dr. Andrew Jones; Dr. Andrew Jones.
ORIGIN: The day Dr. Andrew Jones turned into a man.
I cleared my throat. “I’m sorry. I should come up with something fun to share.”
“You don’t have to.” His thumb gently made circles on my hand. “You can share whatever you want.”
“I rarely talk about my parents.” Or ever.
Andrew nodded.
“Okay, so that was one. Next is… I’m afraid of Gremlins toys or anything related to that movie. When I was about eight, William watched it on TV, and when the gremlins turned into horrifying monsters, it scared the living crap out of me. I had nightmares for years.” I still sometimes did. Andrew’s eyes sparked with amusement. “What?” I made a pouting face as if I was offended. “They’re creepy.”
He chuckled. “Yes. I agree.” His hands slid down to my waist, his fingers trailing over my skin, leaving an arousing sensation and jumbling up my thoughts. My breath hitched at the thought of where his fingers had been and what they had done to me earlier.
I clear my throat. “Okay, so I’m done with two. Let’s see, three is… when I was eighteen, I got a fake ID but was too chickenshit to use it, so it ended up being a waste of my money. Wait. No. I used it once at the Biltmore Estate to get into the wine-tasting class.”
“And there you met the guy who gave you a job.” Andrew’s fingers made leisurely circles over my hip. I nodded. “So it wasn’t a waste of money at all. What was your name on the ID?”
I racked my brain, trying to remember what it was. “Tiffany Rose Smith.”
He peered curiously at me. “You don’t look like a Tiffany.”
“I didn’t feel like a Tiffany.” I hummed, turned my stare skyward, and tapped my finger on my chin. “Four is… after a long week at work, I often make a large batch of the unhealthiest, buttery, fluffy mashed potatoes, and eat the whole pot, while watching romcoms and drinking expensive wine. Butt-naked.”
At that one, both of Andrew’s eyebrows arched. “I like wine, mashed potatoes, and romantic movies,” he said. “Can I join you sometime?”
