Page 35 of Corkscrew You
“‘Or’ would be amazing, but—”
“My room is second on the left up the stairs,” I tell him, quickly, to give neither of us a chance to rethink. “Give me a five-minute head start so I can clear out the animals.”
I hop out of the folding chair. “You’re not allergic to pet hair, are you?”
“No,” he replies.
“Good news.”
And I hurry on out the door, hoping like heck he follows on behind.
ChapterFourteen
NATE
My grandfather always worried about going senile, but when he did, he had a great time. Lostallhis inhibitions. Which, of course, wasn’t so great for the rest of the family. The cops got a bit tired of it, too. Still, he died happy.
Now, it seems I’m following in his footsteps. I’ve gone insane and I couldn’t give a fuck. I’m climbing the stairs to Shelby’s bedroom and trying not to think about everything I’d like us to do. Don’t want it to be over before it starts.
Second on the left. Easy to spot. It’s the door with five cats outside it looking pissed. The dogs passed me on their way down the stairs. They’ve got outside stuff to get on with. Enjoy, hairy buddies. I don’t intend to go outside again for a good long while.
Door’s shut. Because of the cats. As I put my hand out to open it, I have a sudden attack of nerves. My ex-fiancée was only the fourth woman I’d ever slept with, and the one I lost my virginity to doesn’t count because I don’t remember enough about her. So call it three women. I’m twenty-eight. That’s pathetic.
My excuse is that between study, track competitions and training, I never had much time to hang out with girls. I didn’t do frat parties. I was serious and responsible, and right now I want to punch my younger self in the face. Why didn’t you sow more oats, you idiot? Put some hours in?
The door is opened for me, and Shelby’s face, eyes huge, peers round it, while her foot fends off two cats, determined to get back in.
“Second thoughts?” she asks, punting a third cat into the hall.
“Nerves,” I confess.
“Me too.”
“I’m going to come in, though.”
“Good,” she says. “Now, I don’t have to suffocate my humiliation with pie.”
I slide past, as she does some kind of karate footwork that blocks three cats at once and slams the door.
“Sorry,” she says. “I’ve got into bad habits, living alone. Let the pets take advantage of me.”
“You don’t let the goose in here, do you?”
“Nope. Pigs neither, you’ll be pleased to hear.”
“I brought – um, supplies.”
I take the foil packs out of my pocket, sheepishly, like a schoolboy.
“Good thinking,” she says. “The ones I have might be expired. It’s been a while.”
We’ve been standing like store dummies. I move towards her.
“I’d like to take advantage of you now, if that’s OK?”
“TotallyOK,” she replies.
Then we sort of launch ourselves at each other, and start kissing, and I wouldn’t give a damn if the goosewerein here. I’m too blown away to care.
