Page 59 of Truly, Madly, Deeply

“Now you’re speaking my language.” Truly scooped a beet with goat cheese onto her plate. “Caitlin? You were telling me about... I don’t remember actually. Something about Christmas and County Sligo?”

Colin groaned. “Caitie, no.”

“Caitie, yes.” Caitlin grinned. “Okay, imagine that the holiday music is running through the Bluetooth speaker system in our house.”

Colin tipped his head back and groaned. “Caitie—”

“Shut the fuck up.” She shoved him. “This is my story. As I was saying... wait, where was I?”

His ears had gone pink, and the front of his throat was splotched red. “You were about to shut up and eat your goddamn vegetables.”

“Bluetooth speakers?” Truly said, grinning as Colin glared.

Caitlin snapped her fingers. “Bluetooth speakers! Right. Colin mumbles something about grabbing something from his room and disappears upstairs. A few minutes later the music cuts off and none of us can figure out why.” Caitlin’s gaze slid over to Colin. “And that’s when the unmistakable sound of porn starts playing through the speakers.”

Truly gasped. “No!”

Colin slunk down in his chair, looking like he wished he could slide under the table. Maybe sink straight through the floor. His blush had deepened, surpassing scarlet and leveling up to burgundy, the splatter of freckles across the bridge of his nose disappearing entirely as he chewed grumpily on his roasted brussels.

“Yes!” Caitlin cackled. “And it wasn’t just a little light moaning, either. I’m talking skin slapping, ooooh yes, fuck me harder! Need your come! Need you to fill me up! Want it dripping out my ass!”

“Fucking A, Caitie!” From the way he jerked, and Caitlin immediately yelped, he’d kicked his sister under the table. “Truly doesn’t need a play-by-play and I don’t need to hear you make those noises ever again.”

Colin scrubbed a hand over his flushed face; it was a wonder his moles didn’t streak across his skin like little melted chocolate chips.

Caitlin snickered, unrepentant, and grabbed another fingerful of fries. “My point is, there was X-rated filth pouring through the speakers for everyone in our family to hear.”

Truly pressed a hand to her cheek, her own skin feverish beneath her fingertips. She could only imagine how mortifying that must’ve been. “What happened?”

“I died,” Colin deadpanned, staring down at the table with haunted eyes, expression vacant.

“He wished he died.” Caitlin leaned over and punched him in the shoulder. “What happened was, Mom goes flying up the stairs to Colin’s room, since you know, he disappeared from the party ten minutes before and she’s got two teenage sons, so she’s not an idiot. And because our family is full of nosy fuckers, the entire McCrory clan follows, hot on her heels.”

Truly turned to Colin, horrified. “No.”

He cringed. “Yes.”

“Mom’s face is bright red, and her ears look like two little turkey timers about to pop. She’s clearly desperate to put a stop to the soundtrack of some girl getting her brains fucked out by some dude’s—apparently—massive cock, so she doesn’t even knock. She just throws open the door to Colin’s room and Colin lets out the loudest, shrillest scream I’ve ever heard before falling off his bed, dick out, and get this—breaking his wrist.”

She wheezed. No way could that much misfortune befall one person in a night. “You’re lying.”

Caitlin held out her pinky. “God’s honest truth. I am a great many things, but a liar isn’t one of them. Tell her, Colin.”

Colin brought his beer bottle to his lips and sighed. “It’s true. Every last horrifying detail.”

A giggle sneaked through the tight press of her lips. She didn’t mean to laugh, but the mental image was so vivid, so mortifying, the sort of scenario that if it happened in a movie would have her diving behind her sofa or hiding in the bathroom until it was over. Once that one giggle slipped out it was as if the floodgates had been opened and she couldn’t stop.

“Sorry!” she said between gasping laughs. “It’s not funny, it’s just—”

“Oh, it’s hilarious.” Caitlin grinned. “Trust me, I was there.”

Truly clapped a hand over her mouth, which did shit to stifle her laughter. If anything, it just emphasized the shaking of her shoulders and made the ice click against the sides of her cocktail glass.

“Laugh it up, St. James.” Colin ran his thumb along his mouth, wiping up foam left behind by his beer in a move that made the laughter die right on her lips. R-I-fucking-P. Her thighs clenched, and even though there was no way Colin could’ve possibly known, the sly smile that stretched across his face sure as hell made it seem like he knew the effect he had on her. “Fair’s fair. Your turn.”

“My turn to—oh. No, no, that’s not happening. This was not a tit-for-tat deal.”

In a move that was far from fair, Colin’s tongue sneaked out, wetting his bottom lip. “Come on. Fess up.”

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