“It was my bedroom for the three years of high school we lived here,” Javi answers and shrugs. “And then I stayed in here on and off for a long time after that, whenever I needed a place. But it’s really just a guest room now. My mom drove the last of my stuff out to me when she came for Christmas. I think she thinks it’s a deterrent to me moving back in again.”
He says it like it’s a joke. But it’s not, not all the way.
“Or she thinks you’re out for good,” I say.
“Maybe,” he allows, and now he’s looking around the room, eyes lingering on a lamp, then on a big, abstract art print on one wall. “At least she redecorated before I came back the last time. Rearranged the furniture and everything.”
“And it helped?”
“It helped. Maybe that was the secret ingredient this time around.” He’s half smiling, half joking, like he thinks that if he makes light of it, it’s not so bad.
“Is this where you slept after the first time we met?”
“It is, not that I slept very well,” he says, and now he’s leaning forward, one fingertip on my knee. I’m wearing tights, so the sensation is dulled, and I barely feel it when he nudges the hem of my dress an inch higher. “My mom woke up when I got home, wanting to know where I’d been, who I’d been with, what I’dbeen doing, the whole time trying to look at my pupils and smell if there was booze on my breath without me figuring out that’s what was going on.”
Now he grins, tracing a circle on my knee, and it finally reaches his eyes. I lean back on my hands, the comforter cool under my palms. “Joke was on her since I was dead sober but desperately trying to hide that I’d just been fucked within an inch of my life by a woman whose last name I didn’t know.”
Obviously, my face goes hot.
“Paloma wouldn’t approve?”
“Not really, and especially not then.”
“Do you want to go ice skating tonight?” It’s been banging around my brain this whole time, and it finally gets out of my mouth. “You can say no. It’s pretty last-minute; maybe you’re doing?—”
“Absolutely,” he says before I can give him more reasons not to. Somehow it catches me off-guard.
“It’s basically a double date with Ben and Amy,” I warn. “Out in public, and I know we’re off until after the wedding.”
“It’s just ice skating, Madeline,” he says with a little smile and a little shrug. “Stepsiblings can hang out.”
“Right,” I say, because that is a very important fact that I somehow forgot: related people often spend time together, even if they’re not also fucking. “We should probably head back out there before they send a search party.”
Javi rubs his hands over his face again, then stretches, then finally stands. He offers me a hand up, and when I take it, he tugs a bit too hard and I stumble into him with a small “Oh!” noise as his arms go around me.
“That was on purpose,” I accuse his shoulder, even though I’m pleased about it.
“Yeah,” he says, and gives me a short, chaste kiss, his hand on the back of my neck. “But I’ve got something to look forward to now.”
“You didn’t before?” We didn’t actually discuss it, but I’d been assuming I was going to get laid tonight.
Pleasingly, Javi goes a little pink. “Something else,” he says, and I step over a sleeping bag and to the door.
CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT
JAVIER
I’ve beenice skating once before in my entire life. We lived in Washington State for a year and a half when my dad was briefly stationed at Everett, and for half a second, I considered playing hockey instead of football. Still a violent, manly sport, so my father approved, and I thought it was a little more interesting.
But hockey’s expensive, so it lasted for one public skating session, and that was it.
“Yes, I’ve been ice skating before,” I’m telling Madeline as we stand outside the rink, drinking hot chocolate from a nearby coffee shop. We’re here early—a novel experience for me, if I’m being honest—so we’re waiting for Ben and Amy, who have our tickets. The rink is set up in an open, grassy spot between a mall, a road, and an apartment building, so Madeline and I are doing nothing next to a fountain that’s been shut off for the winter.
It’s the best time I’ve had all month.
“A lot?” she asks. It’s cold out, and we’re in hats and scarves and coats, standing close enough that our arms are touching.
“Technically once,” I admit. “Though I’ve also been roller skating.”
