Page 40 of Grave Misgivings
“Okay, maraschino cherries are not a fruit, Geo. They take, like, seven years to digest,” I rattle off, and he laughs.
“Still my favorite, though.”
“I know...” I snap. “Where do you think I picked up the taste for them?”
I run my hand over my face, knowing I should hang up.
I’m too drunk, and too loose-lipped.
But I can’t fucking hang up. The sound of his breath, steady and slow, is like a warm hug.
I catch sight of myself in the mirror, across the room. In the amber light, I can see my reflection. My thick arms and legs, and their definition. My tan skin glistens in the low light, the dark hair covering my chest and torso standing out in contrast. My dark hair all messed up, sticking out in tufts, and the beginning of a five o’clock shadow is already starting to form on my face, despite the fact I shaved this morning.
Yet, I feel like the same tall, skinny goth nineteen-year-old I once was.
How is it that someone can change so much in ten years?
“Do you really want to see me, Geo?” I ask, and even I can hear the petulance of youth lost in my voice.
Silence blooms in its wake.
“Yes,” he replies, his tone rich and deep. It threatens to pull me under.
“Do you not want to seeme?” he asks quietly.
“Of course, I do,” I whisper.
“Okay,” he says softly.
For a moment, all I can hear is his heavy breathing, and then he speaks.
“Go to sleep, Z,” he says as I sink down into my covers.
“Geo?” I say, my hazy alcohol-ridden brain taking over.
“Yeah?”
“You can stay with me,” I suggest.
Silence beckons us again, once more the only sound his deep breathing.
“When you come home, I mean. If you don’t want to stay with your parents.” I clear my throat. “I mean, my house is like ten minutes away from theirs.”
“You have a house?” he asks. Geo’s voice is full of sadness. Guilt.
“Yeah. Bought it a couple of years ago.”
“Good to know,” he says softly. “Go to sleep, Z.”
I curl up in my comforter, clutching the phone to my ear, and it’s like all of a sudden the exhaustion is too much to fight.
“Okay,” I say, letting out a tired breath. I don’t hang up.
“Geo...” Sleep beckons me, but I feel like I need to say what Ineedto say, because I know when the alcohol wears off, I’ll never be able to.
“Yeah?” His deep, sexy voice makes my entire body heat like a fire and I have to fight the urge to groan like a starved man lusting after the tiniest pieces of him that feel like they are meant for me.
Even if I know they aren’t.
