Page 21 of The Interview
“I don’t know how you can drink that shit,” she says with a shudder.
“This is Cam’s. It’s probably a three-hundred-quid bottle of some rare Kentucky bourbon that’s definitely not shit. You know you don’t like bourbon or whisky, anyway, so I don’t know why you even took a sip.”
She releases a sigh. I brace, because I know my wife and know there’s more to come.
“What’s with Makenzie Wild giving you the eye?”
And there it is.
“What?”I ask sharply.
“While you were on the sofa with George, she kept stopping taking her photos and just staring at you. George clocked it; I just asked her.”
“Babe,” I say, turning to face her fully. “Have you seen this face, this body? I’m a fucking icon. She probably can’t believe she’s in the presence of such greatness.”
“Fuck off. You’re old enough to be her dad. Besides, heractualdad’s famous,andher boyfriend’s famous, so I doubt she’s gonna be starstruck by an aging old rocker like you.”
“Cheers, babe. You’re just the boost my ego needed before going in front of the camera and baring my soul.”
“Shut up.Istill love ya.Istill fancy the pants right off ya, grey hair, wrinkles, haemorrhoids, all of it. You’re stillmyrock star,” she says as she slides herself between the handrail and me. She wraps her hands around my neck while I rest mine on her hips.
“I’d better be.” My eyes dance over her face as I take in her bluish-brown eyes—even after all these years, I still can’t decide if her eyes are more blue or brown—and her blonde hair. The colour is softer now, a mix of wheat, honey, and perfection. “I love you,” I tell her.
“You’d better,” she replies. “You ready for this?” she asks as her thumb brushes back and forth across my cheek and lips, making my dick twitch.
I capture her thumb between my teeth, making her squeal. My hips react by grinding into her. “No, but a shag might make things better,” I suggest.
She gives me an eye roll and a head tilt. “Are you not too stressed for that?”
“Never,” I tell her with a quick head shake.
“Seriously, Marls,areyou okay with this?”
“Well, it’s going to be in the film, so…” I trail off with another shrug as I stare at her lips. “Just a blow job, then? That might help settle my?—”
“Marley!” She literally stamps her foot as she says my name.
“Whaaat?” I whine.
“I’m worried. Worried for you, George, and how this might?—”
The timber door slides open again, and I turn to see my sister stick her head out. “If you’re out here stressing and procrastinating, stop. I love you. You’re my favourite big brother, Marley. Nothing’s going to change that?”
“You high?” I ask her.
She holds her index finger and thumb up to indicate a tiny bit.
“What the fuck, Porge? Why wasn’t I invited?”
“I just had a couple of puffs with Kenzie. I thought you were out here having some kind of existential life crisis and didn’t want to disturb you,” she says while wearing what I know is her slightly stoned smile.
“Exo-what?” Ash questions.
“Don’t worry about it,” George reassures her. “Just get your arse in here when you’re ready. I love you. I might wanna batter you after this is done, but I’ll still love you.”
When I walk back inside. Cam’s resting his arse against the kitchen island counter thing, Georgia’s back to his front. His arms are wrapped around her, her hands on his covering her belly while his chin rests on the top of her head. He’s grounding her. Like he said earlier, he’s her safe space. The way he’s holding her right now is his way of keeping her calm before we sit down in front of Dan again.
“You ready?” the man himself asks as he approaches.
