“Was my mother baring cle**age?”
That did it. All humor fled and I watched him wince. It was a strong one which meant he’d seen this and it was now an ugly memory burned on his brain instead of him not seeing it and it was simply an ugly concept.
“She was baring cle**age,” I muttered to his shoulder, mortified because it was likely she was baring lots of it and it was also likely Aunt Lulamae was too.
“Mara,” Mitch called and my eyes slid to him.
“Even if we tried, we’d never work,” I whispered and his hands stopped soothingly traveling my back, one clamped around my waist, the other one slid up my neck into my hair.
“Shut up,” he whispered back.
“You live in a different zone than me,” I shared again and watched his head descend. “The upper zone. I’m the lower zone. Never the twain shall meet.”
I said my last against his lips which had found their way to mine.
“Shut up,” he repeated, his lips moving against mine.
“Mitch –”
“All right, baby, I’ll shut you up.”
Then he did, his head slanting and his lips taking mine in a repeat performance of the open-mouthed, knock my socks off, rock my world, best kiss in the history of all time.
I was holding him to me and pressed tight to him when his lips released mine. My hand was in his hair. He had really, freaking great hair.
“You have great hair,” I breathed against his mouth.
Mitch smiled against mine.
Then he kissed me again and it was so fantastic, when his mouth broke from mine I couldn’t hold my head up anymore. I had to bend my neck and rest my forehead against his shoulder while I fought to steady my breathing.
“Shit, but you can f**kin’ kiss,” he whispered in my ear.
He was wrong; he did all the good stuff. I was just an avid participant in the festivities.
This was not a favorable turn of events that was conducive to peace of mind. Mitch being the best kisser in history on top of all the other fabulous things that were Mitch, his being my neighbor and his asserting he was “into me” all equated to the exact opposite of peace of mind.
“What are you still doin’ here?”
Mitch’s torso twisted, I looked around his body and we both saw Billy standing in his pajamas at the mouth of the hall. His face was slightly sleepy and slightly ticked.
Great. Caught in Mitch’s arms by Billy who apparently was playing possum five minutes ago.
I pulled from Mitch’s arms and walked toward my cousin, saying, “Billy –”
His angry eyes went from Mitch to me and he asked, “Who was that shoutin’?”
I stopped and did a knees-closed squat in front of him. “We’ll talk about it in the morning,” I said softly. “Now you need to do me a favor, go back to bed and get some sleep.”
“Why’s he still here?” Billy asked, ignoring my request and jerking his head to Mitch.
“He –”
Billy cut me off, “He’s around then he’s gone, then he’s around again and touchin’ you. Tomorrow will he be gone again?”
“He’s spending the day with you tomorrow, honey, you know that.”
“What about the next day?” Billy asked.