“It wasn’t, not for thirty-five years, it definitely wasn’t. Then, two minutes ago, it became fuckin’ hilarious.”
I sucked in an annoyed breath.
Chace kept grinning.
I sucked in another annoyed breath.
Chace asked, “T-65 X-wing Starfighter?”
“The combat spaceship of the Rebel Alliance,” I snapped.
“T-65 X-wing Starfighter?” Chace repeated.
“Have you seen Star Wars?” I asked.
“Yes,” he answered.
“More than once?” I pushed.
“Yeah,” he said, still grinning.
“Then, if you have, you know about the X-wing Fighter. Everyone knows about the X-wing Fighter seeing as it, Luke and The Force destroyed the Death Star.”
“Yeah, baby, I know about the X-wing Fighter. I just had no fuckin’ clue it was called the T-65 X-wing Starfighter.”
“It’s not classified information, Chace. You can read all about it on Wookieepedia.”
His body started shaking again, as did his voice when he asked, “Wookieepedia?”
“Stop making fun at me when I’m pissed,” I snapped.
“Wookieepedia?” Chace repeated, his body now rocking, taking mine and the bed with it.
“Stop making fun of me!” I yelled, slapping his arm.
Suddenly his hands framed my face, his body, my body and the bed ceased rocking and he had my full attention mostly because he was all I could see.
“I just laughed about my Dad for the first time since I was sixteen and Deck and I talked trash about him in Deck’s basement, gettin’ drunk and Deck givin’ me space to let off steam. Now, and probably forever, if the occasion arises, I’ll look at my Dad and see Darth Vader and wanna laugh my ass off rather than wantin’ to rip his head off, somethin’ I thought would be impossible. Until now. Now, after six fuckin’ years of feelin’ buried under shit, I see it through your eyes and finally feel clean. For the first time in six years, I feel free. I feel relief. I’m relieved to let that shit go. I’m relieved to know you got the strength to take it. I’m relieved to know you can be with my Mom and make her at ease. I’m fuckin’ beside myself you’re in love with me. I’m pleased you know you get that back from me. What I’m not, baby, is makin’ fun of you.”
Oh yeah, I broke through.
“Okay,” I whispered, my arms sliding around him
“And I never would,” he went on.
“Okay,” I whispered, my arms locking tight.
“You’re cute and you make me laugh and honest to Christ, lookin’ back, except with Deck, I don’t remember doin’ it and feelin’ it comin’ from me free and clean all my fuckin’ life.”
Oh man. Seriously. I broke through.
“Okay,” I whispered, tears again stinging my eyes.
“So let me enjoy laughter without slappin’ my arm and gettin’ all pissy when that laughter finally feels real.”
“Okay,” I whispered yet again then started deep breathing.
Chace stared in my eyes.
I stopped deep breathing and bit the side of my lower lip.
Chace’s eyes dropped to my mouth as he murmured, “Wookieepedia.”
I let my lip go and informed him, “Later when things are, um… less intense, I’ll need your opinion on whether Greedo or Han shot first.”
Chace’s lips tipped up as his brows drew up and his eyes came back to mine, “Is my opinion a deal breaker?”
Nothing with Chace was a deal breaker.
Not anymore.
Still.
“Um…” I mumbled.
His hands at my head pressed in, his thumbs sliding over my cheekbones, one coming to land on my lips as his face got super close and the lip tip faded clean away before he whispered a thick, rough, “Fuck, Faye, but I fuckin’ love you.”
Okay, I didn’t like curse words all that much.
But that sounded really, really good.
“I’m glad,” I whispered back.
His thumbs moved back over my cheekbones then his chin lifted and he kissed my nose before he muttered, “Go clean up, honey, so we can get some shuteye.”
I nodded.
Chace rolled off.
I walked to the bathroom, cleaned up, walked out, went to my dresser and pulled on a new nightie. This one super tight, stretchy and purple that had lace at the cups, was sheer everywhere else and I added the lacy, string-bikini panties that matched.
When I turned to walk back to the bed, Chace’s eyes were on me but aimed low and they didn’t move from my body even as I moved.
I lifted a knee to plant it in the bed and his eyes came to mine.
“Seriously?” he asked a question I didn’t know the answer to.
So I answered, “Um…”
Chace lunged.
We didn’t get shuteye for some time and when we settled, I had the nightie on but the panties were on the floor.
My apartment was dark, we were on our sides, face to face (or my face in his throat, his in the top of my hair), bodies tangled and I was two steps from dream world when he murmured, “Han shot first. Greedo didn’t have a prayer.”
This was the right answer.
Han Solo was badass and Chace knew it.
Therefore, because of that and other more important reasons, I fell asleep smiling.
Chapter Eighteen
My Sister