Stage Dive: Lick Part 11

"Sure I can. Here, this is a little better."

A black tank top fell into my lap. At least this one looked the right size. The thigh-high red dress had been a size-four joke. Quite possibly a mean one, given Martha's dislike of me back in LA. No matter.

A tag dangled from the tank. The price. s.h.i.t. They couldn't be serious.

"Whoa. I could pay my rent for weeks with this top."

In lieu of a response he threw a pair of skinny black jeans at me. "Here, they're okay too."

I put the jeans aside. "It's a plain cotton tank top. How can this possibly cost two hundred dollars?"

"What do you think of this?" A length of silky green fabric dangled from his hand. "Nice, huh?"

"Do they sew the seams with gold thread? Is that it?"

"What are you talking about?" He held up the blue dress, turning it this way and that. "h.e.l.l no, it's backless. The top of your a.s.s will probably show in that." It joined the red dress on the floor. My hands itched to rescue them, fold them away nicely. But David just ripped into the next box. "What were you saying?"

"I'm talking about the price of this top."

"s.h.i.t, no. We're not talking about the price of that top because we're not talking about money. It's an issue for you and I'm not going there." A micro-mini denim skirt came next. "What the f.u.c.k was Martha thinking ordering you this sort of stuff?"

"Well, to be fair, you do normally have girls in bikinis hanging off you. In comparison, the backless dress is quite sedate."

"You're different. You're my friend, aren't you?"

"Yes." I didn't entirely believe the tone of my own voice.

His forehead wrinkled up with disdain. "d.a.m.n it. Look at the length of this. I can't even tell if it's meant to be a skirt or a f.u.c.king belt."

Laughter burst out of me and he gave me a hurt look, big blue puppy-dog eyes of extreme sadness and displeasure. Clearly, I had hurt his heart.

"I'm sorry," I said. "But you sound like my father."

He shoved the micro-mini back into its bag. At least it wasn't on the floor. "Yeah? Your dad and I should meet. I think we'd get along great."

"You want to meet my father?"

"Depends, would he shoot me on sight?"

"No." Probably not.

He just gave me a curious look and burrowed into the next box. "That's better. Here."

He pa.s.sed me a couple of sedate T-shirts, one black and one blue.

"I don't think you should be selecting nun's clothing for me, friend," I said, bemused at his behavior. "It's vaguely hypocritical."

"They're not nun's clothes. They just cover the essentials. Is that too much to ask?" The next bulging bag was pa.s.sed to me in its entirety. "Here."

"You do admit it's just a tiny bit hypocritical, though, right?"

"Admit nothing. Adrian taught me that a long time ago. Look in the bag."

I did so and he burst out laughing, whatever expression I wore being apparently hilarious.

"What is this?" I asked, feeling all wide-eyed with wonder. It might have been a thong if the makers had seen fit to invest just a little more material into it.

"I'm dressing you like a nun."

"La Perla." I read the tag then turned it over to check out the price.

"s.h.i.t. Will you not look at the price, please? Ev." David dived at me and I lay back, trying to make out the figures on the crazily swaying tag that was bigger than the sc.r.a.p of lace. His larger hand closed over mine, engulfing the thong. "Don't. For f.u.c.k's sake."

The back of my head hit the edge of a step and I winced, my eyes filling with tears. "Ow."

"You alright?" His body stretched out above mine. A hand rubbed carefully at the back of my skull.

"Um, yeah." The scent of his soap and shampoo was pure heaven, Lord help me. But there was something more than that. His cologne. It wasn't heavy. Just a light scent of spice. There was something really familiar about it.

The tag hanging down in front of my face momentarily distracted me however. "Three hundred dollars?"

"It's worth it."

"Holy s.h.i.t. No, it's not."

He hung the thong from the tip of a finger, a crazy cool smile on his face. "Trust me. I'd have paid ten times that amount for this. No questions asked."

"David, I could get the exact same thing for less than a tenth of that price in a normal store. That's insane."

"No you couldn't." He balanced his weight on an elbow set on the step beside my head and started reading from the tag. "See, this exquisite lace is handmade by local artists in a small region of Northern Italy famous for just such craftsmanship. It's made from only the finest of silks. You can't get that at Walmart, baby."

"No, I guess not."

He made a pleased humming sound and looked at me with eyes soft and hazy. Then his smile faded. He pulled back and scrunched the thong up in his hand. "Anyway."

"Wait." My fingers curled around his biceps, keeping him in place.

"What's up?" he asked, his voice tightening.

"Just, let me ..." I lifted my face to his neck. The scent was strongest there. I breathed him deep, letting myself get high off the scent of him. I shut my eyes and remembered.

"Evelyn?" The muscles in his arms flexed and hardened. "I'm not sure this is a good idea."

"We were in the gondolas at The Venetian. You said you couldn't swim, that I'd have to save you if we capsized."

His Adam's apple jumped. "Yeah."

"I was terrified for you."

"I know. You hung onto me so tight I could barely breathe."

I drew back so I could see his face.

"Why do you think we stayed on them for so long?" he asked. "You were practically sitting in my lap."

"Can you swim?"

He laughed quietly. "Of course I can swim. I don't even think the water was that deep."

"It was all a ruse. You're tricky, David Ferris."

"And you're funny, Evelyn Thomas." His face relaxed, his eyes softening again. "You remembered something."

"Yes."

"That's great. Anything else?"

I gave him a sad smile. "No, sorry."

He looked away, disappointed, I think, but trying not to let it show.

"David?"

"Mm?"

I leaned forward to press my lips to his, wanting to kiss him, needing to. He pulled back again. My hopes dived. "Sorry. I'm sorry."

"Ev. What are you doing?"

"Kissing you?"

He said nothing. Jaw rigid, he looked away.

"You're allowed to kiss me and cuddle me and buy me insanely priced lingerie and I can't kiss you back?" My hands slid down to his and he held them. At least he wasn't rejecting me totally.

"Why do you wanna kiss me?" he asked, his voice stern.

I studied our entwined fingers for a moment, getting my thoughts in order. "David, I'm probably not ever going to remember everything about that night in Vegas. But I thought we could maybe make some new good memories this weekend. Something we can both share."

"Just this weekend?"

My heart filled my throat. "No. I don't know. It just ... it feels like there's meant to be more between us."

"More than friends?" He watched me, eyes intent.

"Yes. I like you. You're kind and sweet and beautiful and you're easy to talk to. When we're not always arguing about Vegas. I feel like ..."

"What?"

"Like this weekend is a second chance. I don't want to just let it slip by. I think I'd regret that for a long time."

He nodded, c.o.c.ked his head. "So what was your plan? Just kiss me, and see what happened?"

"My plan?"

"I know about you and your plans. You told me all about how a.n.a.l you are."

"I told you that?" I was an idiot.

"Yeah. You did. You especially told me about the big plan." He stared down at me, eyes intense. "You know ... finish school then spend three to five years establishing yourself at mid-range firm before moving up the ranks somewhere more prestigious and starting your own small consultancy business by thirty-five. Then there'd maybe time to get a relationship and those pesky 2.4 kids out of the way."

My throat was suddenly a dry, barren place. "I was really chatty that night."

"Mm. But what was interesting was the way you didn't talk about that plan like it was a good thing. You talked about it like it was a cage and you were rattling the bars."

I had nothing.

"So, come on," he said softly, taunting me. "What's the plan here, Ev? How were you going to convince me?"

"Oh. Well, I was um ... I was going to seduce you, I guess. And see what happened. Yeah ..."

"How? By complaining about me buying you stuff?"

"No. That was just an added bonus. You're welcome."

He licked his lips, but I saw the smile. "Right. Come on then, show me your moves."

"My moves?"

"Your seduction techniques. Come on, time's a-wasting." I hesitated and he clicked his tongue, impatient. "I'm only wearing a towel, baby. How hard can this be?"

"Fine, fine," I held his fingers tight, refusing to let go. "So, David?"

"Yes, Evelyn?"

"I was thinking ..."

"Hmm?"

I was so hopelessly outcla.s.sed with him. I gave him the only thing I could think of. The only thing that I knew had a track record of working. "I think you're a really nice guy and I was wondering if you'd maybe like to come up to my room and have s.e.x with me and maybe hang out for a while. If that's maybe something you'd be interested in doing ..."

His eyes darkened, accusing and unhappy. He started to pull back again. "Now you're just being funny."

"No." I slipped my hand around the back of his neck, beneath his damp hair, trying to bring him back to me. "No, I'm very, very serious."

Jaw tensed, he stared at me.

"You asked me this morning in the car if I thought you were scary. The answer is yes. You scare me s.h.i.tless. I don't know what I'm doing here. But I hate the thought of leaving you."