When they ask me about my trip home, I’m surprised to find myself giving more details than I would have expected. I even tell them about going to the Christmas Eve party at Lani and Tim’s and talking to Nichole about applying for an internship after graduation.
“Are you definitely going back to Massachusetts after graduation?” Estelle asks. “We’ll miss the fuck out of you if you do.”
Sabin throws his arm over my shoulder. “We would miss you, but this sounds like it could be cool. Besides, if it’s a magazine, maybe they have travel features, and you’d actually, you know, travel. To Hawaii! And need an assistant to carry your suitcases!”
“I’m sure you know just the person for the job.” It hits me that I only have four months left at Matthews before graduation. “I don’t know. A lot can happen in a few months.”
“A lot can happen in a few hours,” Chris adds all too casually. He takes the olive from his martini and winks at me as he pops it in his mouth. Relentless. He is relentless.
I cock my head and glare at him. “Are we getting dessert? I love dessert. Sabe, want to share something with me? I think I saw a cranberry torte thing that looked good. And coffee. Espresso, maybe.”
“Yeah,” Chris says under his breath, “Blythe’s definitely going to need an espresso.”
I clear my throat. “So, the torte?”
“Oh, I’m in! I love me some torte,” Sabin says as he rubs his belly. “What is a torte exactly? Why isn’t it a tart? Is a torte a subcategory of tarts? Why don’t all tarts taste tart?”
“Can we still order it even if we can’t classify it?” I ask.
“Definitely. Hey, B., do you want to come to the show we’re seeing tonight? I can probably get you a ticket still.”
“No! No, she can’t,” Chris says all too quickly.
Sabin frowns.
“I mean, Blythe was saying on the way here that she’s exhausted from her trip. You know, holiday nonsense and all.”
“Oh hell,” Sabin says under his breath. “No way. No, no, no.”
I glare at Chris again. He smiles at me and shrugs.
Estelle and Eric are busy scrolling through pictures on their phones and deciding which ones of Eric are the best to send to Zach, and they don’t notice anything.
When the bill comes, Chris refuses to take any money, which irritates me, but I’m not surprised. He does enjoy caretaking.
Sabin claps his hands together. “All right, little siblings. We have to run if we’re going to make the show. And Chris and Blythe need to get to the hotel so that they can get back to fucking each other to all hell.”
“Oh Jesus, Sabin!” Chris tosses up his hands.
“What in the world is going on?” Eric says. He and Estelle have finally looked up from his phone.
I can’t even look at Estelle because she’s got the most satisfied grin on her face. “Well, fuckin’ finally, am I right?”
This is humiliating.
Sabin wraps his arms around my head, covering my face so that I can’t even see, and fakes a soft sob. “My innocent little friend has been violated! Sullied!” He tickles me, and I nearly crash into Eric laughing.
When we all say good night, Eric lets our hug linger for a moment. I realize that he had very little visible reaction to Sabin’s outburst, and I wonder if he disapproves. I brush it off for now.
After we say good-bye to the three in the parking lot, Chris and I climb back in his truck. After just a few minutes of watching him drive, I can’t take it anymore. Just looking at his hands on the steering wheel is turning me on. God, I love his hands. The way he moves, the way his fingers find every spot on my body that gets me hot, the way he intuitively knows when to be gentle and slow… and when to push harder against me, to be strong and firm. Those hands do incredible things to me, and they’ve made me greedy and needy.
I run my fingers through his dark hair and scratch my nails down the back of his neck. I can’t go another second without Chris touching me. I lift up slightly, hike up my dress, and slip my nylons down. I put one foot up on the dashboard. I lean back and open my legs before I take his hand in mine. I push my underwear to the side and set his hand on me.
“Put your fingers inside me,” I say. “Please.” I can barely talk.
“Like this?” he asks teasingly.
Very slowly, he eases one finger in. I close my eyes and put my hands up to my head. I can feel how ridiculously wet I am already, and he’s not even moving his hand. He’s just holding his finger inside me.
