Page 68 of Rebound With Me
Nina
I can’t saythat I’ve ever gone into a double-date situation with high hopes, but my ambitious goal for tonight is merely to suffer through it without anyone getting punched or a drink thrown in their face. Having packed for a romantic sexy weekend getaway with Vince, all of my outfits were selected with the objective of inspiring him to rip them off of me. For this dinner, I chose to wear the most conservative of options—a pretty red flowery dress and sandals. Vince has ostensibly spent exactly zero seconds deciding what to wear or worrying about what the next couple of hours will be like.
“You ready to go?” he asks, as he sends off an e-mail and slides his phone into his pocket. I stare at his hands. His beautiful, slightly rough, capable hands. I want them on me. “You look beautiful. I love you in red.”
“Thanks. Let’s get this over with, I guess.”
He takes my hand and kisses my cheek. “I think this is gonna be fun. Not as fun as what we did on the couch this afternoon, but you know. Entertaining.”
I grab him and hug him. He hasn’t proved to be much of a hugger before now, but I just want to press my body up against his and breathe him in. He gently rubs my back, and I feel the masculine warmth of him down to my bones. The epic montage of sex this afternoon was a chaos of disparate emotions that I don’t have the time or space to sort through, but right now I feel dangerously attached to him.
There’s nothing like having a Them to make you feel like an Us.
We’re both startled to hear the door to the room next to us slam shut. We were treated to the muffled sounds of the couple going at it off and on for the past hour, and I mean “going at it” in the bad way. Not the way Vince and I were going at it. That was the good way. The really good way. And we were not quiet.
Vince’s hand is on the doorknob, but he waits to turn it, because we hear the adjacent door open and shut again and a man’s voice hiss, “Sadie! Wait for me!”
Our wide eyes lock together. My hand covers my mouth as he starts laughing.
“Oh shit,” he says quietly.
“Oh no. We should wait—”
He opens the door and ushers me out into the hallway. Sadie is waiting at the elevator, hands on her hips, foot tapping. Russell strides towards her, his body rigid. If Sadie’s got daddy issues, she clearly wants a spanking. And a summer cold. Because she’s wearing what appears to be a large napkin tied around her torso, and white shorts that confirm my suspicion that she flies commando. I guess I shouldn’t talk. I was barely wearing anything when we drove up here. What is it about Vince that just makes women want to expose themselves?
Vince and I are about ten feet behind Russell. When Sadie looks back, her petulant face falls, and then her eyes narrow.
“Hey guys. I was just rushing downstairs so we wouldn’t have to keep you waiting.”
“So considerate, as always,” says Vince.
Russell slows his pace and turns his head. “Oh hello.”
“Small world, I guess we’ve got the room next to yours,” says Vince.
I watch Sadie’s face and read her thoughts:What the fuck? Fuck, they heard us fighting. Fuck, we heard them fucking. Fuck, I should have worn an even smaller napkin.She reaches out for Russell’s hand. “Small world, indeed. Still getting my head wrapped around this whole situation. You guys have a nice afternoon? We found the most adorable antique stores. Russ really hit the jackpot.”
“It wasn’t exactly a windfall, but I found the perfect vintage brass lamp for my home office and a copy of an old Herbie Hancock record that’s in much better condition than the one I have now.”
“Oh yeah? Which album?” Vince seems genuinely curious.
“Speak Like a Child.It’s not one of his best-known.”
“Yeah, I’ve got that one. Transitional. I love that album—Mickey Roker on drums. Great drummer.”
As we all step into the elevator, Russell gives Vince the once-over. “You like Roker? He played on my favorite Dizzy Gillespie album.”
“Big 4?”
“How’d you guess?”
“I dunno, instinct. ‘September Song.’”
“Yes! That’s my favorite track.”
While they continue geeking out over classic jazz artists and vinyl, Sadie leans back and widens her eyes at me, smirking. I smile and shrug and wonder if maybe this dinner won’t be so terrible after all. Maybe we’ll all get along. We definitely have the potential to, so why not?
Russell certainly looks more easy-going than he used to. He’s wearing dark jeans with cuffs and a black T-shirt. She must be dressing him. The most casual garments I’d ever seen him in were chinos and summer weight button-down shirts. He’s even wearing contacts. He once told me he’d rather be blind than stick contact lenses on his eyeballs. I guess he’d rather stick contact lenses on his eyeballs than not get to see Sadie’s tramp stamp up close.
