The Black Coats(36)
Thea blinked. “Sorry. I’m just drifting off here. I’ve been so tired lately.”
“I can tell.” Drew sat up as he gently pried off her sunglasses. “You’ve got some dark rings under these gorgeous eyes.” With a devastatingly handsome smile, he leaned forward and kissed her cheek.
“Boo, that was chaste,” pouted Thea, disappointed. “Are we courting now—Sense and Sensibility–style? Is this your way of telling me to start our English homework?”
Drew looked toward the house. “More like, I’m pretty sure your parents are watching us out the windows.”
“Don’t worry about my dad,” answered Thea before pausing dramatically. “Worry about my mom.”
“Yeaaahhh . . .” Drew lay back on the blanket, scooting away from her. “I guess I can handle a little space right now, even if you are making it very hard in that thing.” He gestured to her torso, barely covered by her shirt. “Is that a bikini top? Half a bathing suit? Like, what is that? You know what, it doesn’t matter, I love it.”
Thea blushed. After class had wrapped up at Mademoiselle Corday last week, Mirabelle had surprised Thea by taking her shopping. To her further surprise, she actually loved the things that Mirabelle had picked out for her, including this outfit of a black-and-white-swirled retro crop top dotted with tiny black umbrellas and paired with high-rise white shorts. When Thea had put it on, she had felt like a sixties’ pinup. The white shorts were just right for showing off her long, muscular, copper-brown legs, which were now crossed in front of her.
Drew let out a whistle, and Thea reached for him. “I know my parents probably are watching us, but you can at least hold my hand.”
“It could be improper. You could be scandalized. Your dowry could be at risk!”
“I’ll take that chance. It’s probably only antique radios anyway.”
Drew curled his fingers around hers. “Okay, seriously, though, why are you so exhausted? Is the Tolkien Houses for Societal Reconstruction taking up that much energy?”
Thea laughed at his butchering of the name. “No, I mean, yes. It’s a lot of work. It can be quite physical, restoring things.” She shielded her eyes, mixing a truth with the lie. “It’s more rewarding than you could ever imagine, though. It’s probably how you feel about soccer. It becomes a part of you.”
Drew pushed himself up to look at her with a surprising intensity. “But aren’t you, like, painting chandeliers?”
Thea bit back a smile. “That’s part of it, but it’s also being around the other girls. I haven’t been exactly social these last six months and it’s nice to have . . .”
Drew finished for her. “A team.”
“Exactly.”
“Could I ever come with you?”
She kicked her leg out toward him, narrowly missing his arm. “No! They have pretty strict rules. Besides, it’s women only.”
Drew stared off into the distance, his eyes focusing on the horizon. “Huh.” He paused. “Well, I have a wig,” he finally muttered. “I think I would look great as a redhead.”
“You would.” Thea raised her glass of sweet tea and stole a glance at the boy who had captured her heart one afternoon at a time. She scooted up next to him, relishing his warm skin pressing against hers, the sun bathing them both in its generous heat. Thea brushed her nose across Drew’s. “I love being a part of my team there.” She placed both of her long hands across his stubbly cheeks. “But I’m not lying when I say that there is nowhere I would rather be in this moment than right here with you.” Thea raised her lips and pressed them against his. Sorry, Mom.
Drew kissed her hungrily and then pulled back with a groan. “Now you’re making this really difficult.” He wrapped his arms around her, Thea feeling the hard lines of his rib cage against her own, their hearts beating inches apart, everything about him warmed by the sun, warming her from the inside out.
From somewhere on the blanket, her phone buzzed. No, no, no. Thea ignored it, sinking deeper into his kiss, into Drew himself, into the way his hand traced across her hips. The phone buzzed again. Thea shifted, and the moment was broken. Drew sat back. “Want to turn that off?”
Thea frowned. “Yes, it’s probably just . . .” She looked at the phone. It was from Nixon.
BC. One hour. Meet at Mademoiselle Corday.
“Oh no.” Thea let out a nervous sigh. “I am so sorry, Drew. I have to go. This sucks.”
His head jerked back. “Are you kidding me?”
“No. It’s an emergency.”
He sat up. “Is everyone okay?”
“Yes. Sorry, not that kind of emergency.” Thea pushed her hair back from her face with aggravation. “Everyone is okay. It’s just, you know, my team.”
He gave her a look of extreme disbelief. “Thea, what kind of emergency could a two-hundred-year-old house have? The sudden onset of oldness? Too much quirk in the drawing room?”
Thea was already packing up her books, avoiding his gaze. “I know. It’s stupid, I just have to see this commitment through.”
Drew stood awkwardly, his movements betraying his quiet anger. “Thea, I’m trying to be cool about this, I really am, but we were supposed to have today together.”