I pointed at the bathroom door.
“Don’t move,” he said.
He kissed a butt cheek and went to the bathroom. The water ran, and I let my body sink into the mattress. I didn’t know how stressed I’d been until the tension went out of me.
The sink ran, and he came back buttoned up, carrying a white washcloth. He straddled me, and I felt the warm roughness of the cloth on my back.
“I have to be back by Monday, early,” he said.
“I have to clean up tomorrow.”
“I can get a staff of people in here to make this place sterile while I fuck you dirty.”
He got off me and patted my back, indicating he’s gotten me clean.
“That’s a great offer, but…”
But what?
But I had plans.
But it’s weird.
But a part of me is just flat uncomfortable with it.
Which part? I searched the hallways and doorways of myself, looking for the words to describe my unease. Feminism, adulthood, personal responsibility—all were perfectly fine with him getting people to clean up the party.
“And then,” he said, putting his nose to mine, eye to eye, filling my vision in a way I had been convinced would never happen again until he’d shown up in my driveway with roses. “And then we have to talk about when you’re going to start traveling with me.”
There. The unease was there, and it exploded like a land mine.
There was a knock at the door again.
“Peanut?” It was dad.
I pushed Dash off me.
“Give me a minute.” I opened my drawer and rummaged around for new underwear. I hopped into a plain cotton pair.
Dash was standing in his suit, watching me, looking at me in a way that only hinted at his delicious depravity. I checked the mirror, straightening myself until I didn’t look as if a man had just had his fingers where the sun didn’t shine. He was visible in the mirror, hands in his pockets.
He wanted me to travel with him. What did that even mean?
Another knock.
“Dad! I said one minute!” I snapped.
“Is Mr. Wallace in there?” It was Jacob.
He and I looked at each other. I guessed there was no denying it. Jacob continued without pause while our gazes were locked.
“I want to say good-bye, and my mom said not to bother you, but I am anyway.”
Dash didn’t look away. “I’m here.”
I opened the door. The room probably stank of sex. I could only hope Jacob wouldn’t recognize it or notice the crumpled panties on the bed.
Dash went to the door and patted Jacob on the back, said something encouraging, and headed out. I caught myself in the mirror one last time before I went to be a good hostess.
Travel with him.
I didn’t look just-fucked as much as I looked terrified.
thirty-seven
Dash
“Think about it,” I said in her driveway.
She wasn’t coming home with me. She wanted to be with her father on his birthday. I understood it, but I hadn’t expected it, and I felt as if she was unspooling my rope from the mooring.
“I will.” She looked at her shoes.
I didn’t believe her. At least, she wasn’t going to think about it the way I needed her to think about it. She was going to talk herself out of it. I could tell. She wasn’t giving me the openings to convince her.
“I’ll put you in great hotels. There’s one in Chicago with an indoor pool under a retractable glass roof.”
“Sounds nice.”
“You’ll have great seats. Skybox for every game.”
“Okay.”
I couldn’t see what she was thinking. She was hiding. I took her chin in my hand and pointed her face toward me. If I could make her understand how important it was, she would stop looking away. She would say yes, and we could make plans right now instead of doing this weird dance of denial.
“I need you,” I said, crouching to get at eye level.
She was a shitty actress. I could see the confusion all over her, and I understood it. I’d just dumped her a few weeks earlier. Broken her heart. And there I was, inviting her to travel with me and be mine in front of everyone. Of course she doubted my commitment.
I kissed her. She tasted of rosewater.
“I’ll call you in the morning,” I said.
“I’m glad you came,” she said, hugging me.
We kissed a few more times, and I let her go back into the house, but I knew what I had to do. I had to make sure she believed I wouldn’t drop her again. That my commitment was real.
She wouldn’t be impressed by the luxuries that came with travel. I should have known better than that. It wasn’t too late. I could sell her on fun, on sex. I only needed to earn her trust again.