Page 33 of How to Kiss a Hawthorne Brother
Kate laughs again and reaches out, pressing a hand to my chest. “You and your tiny towel should stay completely upright. Tell me what you’re reaching for, and I’ll get it.”
“There’s a pocketknife in the front pocket,” I say. “The small one at the top.”
“This one right here?”
When I nod, she pulls out the knife. “Got it. Which window am I looking for? Or...” She eyes my towel. “Do you want to show me?”
“I think I can stay upright while walking,” I say with a grumble. “Come on. I’ll show you.”
I motion for her to go down the porch steps first mostly because I don’t want her walking behind me watching my tiny towel sway in the breeze.
The back windows are higher off the ground than I thought, though they’re closer to the ground than the windows out front, so they’re our best bet for getting in. Kate can reach the screen easily enough and is able to use the pocketknife to slice it open, but she’s too far below the windowsill to hoist herself up.
She looks around my backyard. “Is there anything I can stand on?”
Normally, there would be patio furniture on my back deck, but right now, it’s all in my garage. Sometimes thunderstorms are bad enough to blow stuff around, and I didn’t want to have to worry about anything happening while I was gone. “I put it all up before my trip.”
She groans. “You are too responsible for your own good!”
“Here. What if you just...” I step forward, shifting one scantily towel-clad leg under the window. “Step on my knee and see if that will get you high enough.”
“Are you sure? I won’t hurt you?”
“Um, maybe take your shoes off so you don’t rip all the hair out of my leg?”
She pauses. “The things you never thought you’d hear someone say.”
She kicks her shoes off and lifts the ball of one foot onto my knee. “Ready?”
I brace myself. “Yep. Go for it.”
She pushes off and grabs hold of the window frame. “I’m totally high enough,” she says, but then she wobbles, her whole body swaying to the left. I grab her legs with both hands, stabilizing her...and completely losing my towel.
I close my eyes. This is not good.Very not good.
“Will you be able to get through?” I say, willing calm into my voice.
“Can you hoist me a tiny bit higher?” she asks.
Oh sure. No problem. No problem at all.
I glance at my towel. If I reach for it, I’ll drop Kate. If I drop Kate, she’ll see me reaching for the towel. The best shot I have of keeping her from seeing life, the universe, andeverythingis to get herinsidemy house, then grab the towel before she has the chance to turn around and look at me.
Assuming she doesn’t look down before then. Or hasn’t already.
At least we’re on the side of my house that’s facing the woods instead of the street.
I slide my hands a tiny bit further up Kate’s legs, trying not to focus on her smooth, sun-warm skin, and lift her higher.
“How’s that?” I ask, grunting from the strain.
“That’s perfect. Are you sure you’re—”
“Wait. Stop. Don’t move.” I can sense by the way she’s shifting her weight that she’s going to try and look at me. Make sure I’m okay with her own eyes.
She stills, more of her weight dropping back onto my leg. “Not moving,” she says. “Are you okay?”
“Yep. I’m good. Just um, do me a favor and don’t look down?”
