“Maybe I should buy a coconut bra,” I say. I’ve thought seriously—and usually drunkenly—about getting one at some party store and wearing it for her like women wear lingerie.
“Mmmmm,” she says, her head resting against me. “Youshould.”
Her voice is sultry, and I wonder if she’d really be into that. I could sneak off for a while tomorrow, and when we get back to the hotel to collapse after the launch, I could slip it on and lie back, pretending nothing was different. And then she’d—
“Mmmmm,” Su-Lin says again, as if she’s imagining this, too, though by this point she’s probably back to mentally ogling Daveed. I look down at her and my gaze falls on her chest and gets stuck there. I’m a total breast man, shameful though it is, and I’ve always appreciated quality over quantity.
God, her breasts are perfect. I have a near-overpowering urge to lean down and run my tongue over the tops of them. I might have indulged, but Su-Lin snuggles closer into my side. “I hope Jason’s okay,” she says.
I kiss the top of her head. “They said he’d be fine. It’s just a minor concussion.”
She nods, but I can tell she still feels bad about what happened. She was scared enough up there on that wall, it was rough to hold onto the rope and lower her slowly, not to be able to run over to her and lift her off the wall and hold her as she trembled.
Not that I could actually have done that. If I tried to climb that wall to help her down, we’d probably both have concussions.
“Hey,” I say, rolling over to face her. “It wasn’t your fault.”
“I know,” she says, but from her tone I can tell that she doesn’t.
“Trust me. I am the master at blaming myself for things I can’t control.”
Su-Lin smiles. “And do you have a lot of luck stopping, even when you know you should?”
“Almost none.” I’m trying to think of something comforting to say, something that will make her feel better, but I realize when I get into that place, there’s very little anyone can do for me. “Damn it.”
Su-Lin giggles and kisses me again. She tastes like cherries and lemons and sugar and desire so hot it burns. Chills run down my spine, and she rolls until she’s lying half on top of me. I run my hands up the back of her shirt to her bra catch and under, feeling the smooth skin of her back. I want her beyond reason, and I’m so scared that if I don’t get it together, she’s going to give up on me. She’ll be gone forever.
More than anything, I want to give her something to hang on for. I kiss my way down her neck, behind her ear, and her arms around my neck feel like they never want to let go. I imagine what it would feel like to be able to give her all of me.To tell her that I love her and I want her to be my girlfriend, that I want to be with her for the rest of my life, even though I still can’t think the words for what that kind of commitment is called. I want to make love to her, to whisper all these things in her ear and to feel her shudder beneath me, on top of me, all around me. My need for her is powerful, more so even than my obsession with Candace was, and it’s this thought that scares me enough to finally wake me up to what I’m thinking.
I need to snap out of it.Those thoughts are dangerous. Not in the least because I’ve had a few drinks, and I don’t know what I might say out loud. I don’t want Su-Lin to know how often I have sexual fantasies about her. She might feel used or objectified, and I hate myself for that, even though virtually every fantasy I’ve carried through to the end resolves with us lying naked in each other’s arms, confessing our undying love and loving each other desperately until we’re old and wrinkled and gray.
I love her, I want her, but I can’t be the person that kind of love makes me. I can’t be with her, not fully, until I can be sure I can do one without the other. I stand, and Su-Lin makes this sad noise as she slumps into the space I’ve left beside her.
I can’t make love to her, but I can make her laugh, and Su-Lin’s laugh is the best sound in the world, even better than the noises I’d like to elicit.
“Just for you,” I say, “since this is apparently a thing . . .” I dump the crumbs out of the pretzel bowls right there on the table and nearly shed my shirt as well, but stop myself just in time.
Too much.Too weird. Not casual. I congratulate myself on this rational thought. Definitely not as drunk as I could be.
Yet still sloshed enough to do this. I hold the bowls up to my chest like a coconut bra and rap “Guns and Ships” fromHamiltonin a crappy French accent.
Su-Lin melts into a puddle of happy shrieks and giggles, which is pretty much my favorite. She knows I can do this song—we’ve both rapped it to the album in the car over and over and over again, along with the rest of the musical. But to see my solo performance with pretend-coconuts makes her so happy—my whole body is warm and buzzing and it has nothing to do with the alcohol.
I make it most of the way through the song before I stumble over the word “tacsicle,” which I know isn’t right, but I can’t think of what is.Tasticle? Um. No. “Damn it!” I shout and slump down next to her again.
Su-Lin has laughed so hard she’s about to cry, and against the better judgment I apparently lack, I pull her close again. God, just being here like this, it satiates me in a way I never thought possible.
But not completely. Never completely.
Su-Lin’s forehead brushes against my jaw, and my lips burn with longing. She makes her hand like a puppet and reaches it up by my ear. “Oh, I’ll keep your secret, Darlin’,” Ruby says in a whisper. Ruby has no breath, of course, but my ear tingles wildly anyway. “But I can’t make any promises for Su-Lin. She’s . . .”
Su-Lin doesn’t finish the sentence, but my mind does, in a million different ways. She’s beautiful, perfect, the love of my life. She’s everything to me, everything I want and can’t have, everything I do have that makes me feel happy and safe and desperate to keep her. Just like this. Forever.
Though a large part of me screams it wants so much more.
None of this is how she intended to end the sentence. I look into her eyes, and I think I see desire there that mirrors my own.
“She’s what?” I’m sure that the strain in my voice gives away all my thoughts.
