Page 114 of Dream Girl
Katie pulled Rami to her chest, murmuring and stroking his hair.
“How do I load the dishwasher wrong? I wash the big things by hand.” I didn’t know there was a wrong way to load the dishwasher, unless you were blocking the sprayers or something.
“He’s particular about the bowls. Back bowls face front, front bowls face back. According to him, all silverware but knives should go up, not down, in the basket. I didn’t realize it bothered him that much.” Evan shrugged.
“It’s not about the dishwasher. Or the piano. Or even you. It’s about Caroline,” Katie told me, still holding onto Rami, comforting him. He was slight, his dark hair hung in his brown eyes, dark green shirt bringing out his golden-brown skin.
Rami was the one who worked for the space program and was fascinating to talk to.
“I don’t want to cause problems.” Guilt ate at me like acid, and I hid my face in Wes’s chest.
“You’re not.” Evan kissed my temple. “I’ll meet you downstairs so we can have cake.”
“Oh, yes. Let’s have some cake. I’m excited to see how it turned out. I can never get it quite the way my grandma did.” Lexi stood.
Hopefully, it turned out. It was Evan’s first baking lesson.
“For what it’s worth, I like it that you’re here. I’m going to jump in the pool and rinse off this alpha fuckery.” Riley ran back downstairs.
Wes led me upstairs, arm around my waist. “Are you okay? He didn’t hurt you, right? Just got bossy and possessive?”
“I didn’t mean to ruin your birthday.” I felt all weird and uneasy inside, my heart pounding.
“You didn’t. It’s not ruined. Not one bit.” He carried me to his room and dropped me on his bed.
It smelled of him. Of us. With a hint of Evan, who’d crawled in with us in the wee hours to snuggle.
He jumped under the covers with me, crushed me to his chest, and purred. I was plunged into a cozy sea of snuggles, my spine melting, as he held me, murmuring soft words, until my heart stopped pounding and my breath unhitched.
“Better, Peaches? Or do you need more?” He pressed tiny kisses on my face.
I took a deep breath of Wessy goodness, the lungful soothing my frayed soul. “One more cuddle and then we’ll have some cake?”
“Sounds good.” Wes snuggled me tight, planting little kisses on my jaw, neck and shoulders.
“Cake time, bitches,” Riley yelled from someplace.
Reluctantly, I sat up.
“Okay.” I looked down at my bra. “Right after I put on a shirt.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Grace
Sandwiched between Wes and Evan, I was cozy and warm in Wes’ bed. After many rounds of delicious birthday sex, I should be fast asleep. But something nagged at me. What had I forgotten?
Think. Think. Think.
The piano. I never cleaned the fingerprints off the piano.
Extracting myself from them, I went down to the laundry room in the basement and mixed some gentle soap with warm water in a clean bucket and found a soft cloth. I padded up to the dark second floor. Not wanting to wake anyone, I didn’t turn on the light. Instead, I first dusted the piano, then methodically wiped it down and dried it. I put away the bucket and went back to the third floor to return to Wes’ bed.
Back to my pile of purrs and muscle.
I stopped in front of my room, the door ajar. A sigh escaped my lips as I surveyed it in the darkness, the only light streaming in through the window. It really was messy, wasn’t it?
Taking everything off the window seat and the bed, I took it all down to the laundry room to wash. As I did the laundry, I got my room nice and clean–taking things down, putting things away, washing the windows and scrubbing the floor. I didn’t vacuum the rug, because I didn’t want to wake everyone, and I couldn’t move the bed myself.
