The Queen of Bright and Shiny Things(42)

“Can I ask you something?”

He stirs against me, moving his hand over my back. “I think you just did.”

“What was it like with your mom?” Maybe the question is too personal, but I want to understand him, and this seems like the obvious place to start.

“There were good days and bad days. When she was in remission, I could pretend everything was fine. She did more then. Worked on her songs.”

“She was a musician, too?”

“Yeah. She’s the one who taught me to play the guitar. I can’t remember a time when she wasn’t singing … except at the very end.”

“Alto or soprano?”

“Alto. When I was a kid, I thought all moms made up songs about broccoli.”

“She sounds like she was wonderful.”

Shane nods; I feel the movement against my head. That’s how close we are. Maybe it’s easier for him to talk about her because it’s dark and he can’t see my face. “It’s been nine months, but sometimes I forget. Like, I wake up in a panic because I can’t remember if she’s had all her meds.”

“I have bad dreams, too.” Hopefully he won’t ask about them. I also hope he doesn’t think I’m saying that for attention. I just want him to know that he’s not alone.

“Not tonight,” he promises. “Not when we’re together.”

“You either.”

“I feel okay,” he says.

That’s enough to make me smile. “Night,” I whisper.

I expect to have trouble sleeping, but the next thing I know, it’s morning with light shining through my window and birds making a racket outside. (Did I ever mention that I hate birds?) Shane looks cute, even at this hour. He’s grown faint scruff on his jaw and his lashes are tangled, giving glimpses of his blue eyes like glimmers of sky through a canopy of leaves. He’s smiling, I think, as I roll out of bed. I’m a little stiff from staying in the same position all night, but nothing serious.

I’m weirdly nervous and excited at the same time. I’ve never slept with anyone before, not even girls at sleepovers because life with my mom didn’t permit anything like that … and I didn’t have any close girlfriends before this year. Besides, I don’t think Lila would want to spoon in my bed even if she did stay over. I picture her camping out on the floor instead.

“You want some breakfast?” I ask.

According to my alarm clock, it’s 8:10. I can’t imagine Joe will bring my aunt back too early, so we have time. It’s nearly an hour from the city, too. Shane rolls out of bed and scrambles into his jeans so fast that I don’t see much, then I’m left thinking about morning wood. He was holding me away from him, so I wonder—

He interrupts my blush-inducing thoughts with, “Yeah, that’d be nice. Then I need to get home. I have some things to do before my shift.”

As I look on, Shane swaps the U of M tee for his button-up and I suddenly have butterflies in my stomach. His bare chest is … delicious. He’s lean and strong without being too muscled. I don’t let on that I’ve never seen a half-naked guy up close and personal before. It’s my private opinion that I should win an Oscar for being so very cool about all of this.

I search my brain for reasonable response. “When do you work?”

“Three to eleven, Saturday, Monday, and Tuesday.”

I’m pleased to hear he’ll have Fridays free, though I can’t assume he’ll want to do this every week. And he certainly can’t stay over all the time. “Noted.”

In the kitchen, I whip up some scrambled eggs and toast. He eats quickly, but I think it’s a sign that he’s worried about being here when my aunt gets home. Afterward, he leans down to kiss me. For a few seconds, I forget my own name.

I’m dazed when he says, “See you tomorrow?” like that’s a question.

“Yeah. That reminds me … I told my aunt I’d do the shopping for tomorrow’s lunch. So when I show up at the P&K, don’t assume it’s because I’m stalking you.”

“If I was going to think that, it would’ve been when you showed up at my house, out in the middle of nowhere.”

He has a point—and it’s closer to true than I’d like to admit. “Then see you later, maybe.”

“Do you want me to help you clean up?” I shake my head, but he totally gets twenty gold stars for offering. “Later, Sage.”

Shane shrugs into his jacket and he’s out the door at a quick jog. I’d like to say I don’t stand at the window to watch until he turns off my street. That would be a lie. Eventually I get motivated enough to clean the kitchen and hide the evidence of my sleepover. I feel so awful; this is the first truly bad thing I’ve done since I got here. So I work like crazy all morning to make up for it. The house is spotless by the time Aunt Gabby sweeps in at ten; she doesn’t have time to do anything but change her clothes before work. I’m glad Joe doesn’t come in. Though I like the guy well enough, I’m not eager to make conversation on a Saturday morning, especially when I suspect he boned my aunt the night before.

“You have enough money to buy stuff for tomorrow? If not, there’s some cash in the coffee can,” she tells me as she sweeps out the door.