Royally Not Ready(45)
“Yes,” I answer drunkenly as I allow her to drag her finger along my shirt.
“With the right person, that’s all it takes, just a touch, here.” She moves her finger over my pec. “Or here.” Her finger caresses my abs. “Or . . . here . . .” She moves down to the waistband of my pants, and that’s when I grip her wrist, stilling her.
“No, Lilly.”
“No, what?” she asks innocently.
“We’re not going there.”
“Going where?”
Jaw hard as stone now, I turn to face her and say, “Sex. We’re not fucking going there.”
“You know it would be good.”
“It would be fucking great,” I respond. “But it’s not happening. There are too many complications, too many unknowns.” I swallow and then say, “And if I have one taste, I know I won’t be able to stop.”
Her eyes turn heady as she slowly lowers herself back down to the blanket, turns her face to her pillow, and lets out a muffled scream. Confused, I wait for her to lift up, and when she does, she says, “Well, I very well might need that private time now. Thanks a lot.”
“Okay, that wraps up the history of the cod in Torskethorpe,” I say. “Any questions?”
Lilly blinks a few times and then starts slow clapping. “Wow, Keller, that has to be your most boring lecture yet. Didn’t think you could top the history of patterned curtains in Strombly, but here we are, on the roof of a castle, the ocean beating into the rocks below us, and I’m bored out of my mind.”
I was bored talking about it, but after the heated questions we asked each other, I had to douse us both in a tale of cod. It was the only way to ensure things didn’t escalate.
Seems like it worked.
“It was an important topic—”
“Every topic to you is an important one. I’m going to tell you right now, that the cod story’s importance is on the bottom of the totem pole, right next to ‘unnecessary.’ I’m truly shocked that I’m still awake after that. Best you told that story outside, where the sun doesn’t set. Kept me more awake.”
“Okay, I get it, it was boring.”
She sits up and stares down at me. “It was more than boring—it was downright painful, the type of story that should be used as a form of torture.”
“Well, be happy, that was the last lecture for tonight, and we can pack up now.” I lift up, only for her hand to connect with my chest and hold me in place.
“No way. We’re not ending the night on freaking cod and the image I have in my head of these demon fish swimming around in the ocean, eating other fish. I’m not going to bed with that floating around in my mind. No, thank you. You owe me.”
Normally, I would tell her she’s fine and to get her ass to bed, but in this instance, I think she might be right. The cod lecture was too much.
“What do you want?” I ask.
“Three more questions. But I’m the one asking this time. You know enough about me, but you’re still a blank page.”
I rest back on the blanket and prop my hands behind my head. “Fine, make them quick.”
“Ha, okay.” I catch the roll of her eyes. “First and foremost, I want it to be known that you have the right to veto my question, but I’d also like you to think about answering before vetoing.”
What the hell did I get myself into?
“Understood?” she asks, using my tone of voice while poking me. My brow lifts in question, which only makes her laugh. “Seriously, are you ready?”
“I’m not sure, but it doesn’t look like I have a choice.”
“Glad you see it that way, because you don’t.” She flips her hair over her shoulder. “Okay, first question—tell me one thing you miss about your parents.” She presses her hand to my arm. “And before you veto, I’ll share with you one thing I miss about mine.” Her eyes plead with me.
Fuck. How does she already have that kind of control over me where I can’t say no?
I heave a heavy sigh and say, “I miss their hugs. And not just the hugs they gave me, but the hugs they gave each other. I’d walk in on them at some point every day and find them embracing. They truly loved each other and leaned on each other for support. I miss that, walking into the kitchen to find my mom sitting on the counter and my dad leaning against the counter, my mom’s arms wrapped around him tightly. I miss how they brought me into their embrace and held me there until I wiggled my way out. Just everything about it, I miss it.”
Lilly is rubbing her thumb over my hand as I talk, and when I glance up at her, I catch the appreciation in her eyes. With a soft smile, she says, “That was going to be my answer.”
“Really?” I ask. “You’re not just saying that?”
She shakes her head. “No. You don’t realize how much you miss a simple embrace until it’s not there anymore. I truly miss the way my parents would squeeze my hand.”
“Three times, right?”
She smiles softly. “Three times. Something I feel like I didn’t know I was going to miss so much until it was gone. Now what I wouldn’t give to have my mom and dad both hold my hand one more time and squeeze an I love you. Sometimes, when I’m dreaming, I swear I can feel them there, squeezing, but when I wake up, it all vanishes. Feels so . . . cruel. I hate dreaming about them.”