Page 38 of Lick
“Shit. Will you not look at the price, please, Ev?” David dived at me and I lay back, trying to make out the figures on the crazily swaying tag that was bigger than the scrap of lace. His larger hand closed over mine, engulfing the thong. “Don’t. For fuck’s sake.”
The back of my head hit the edge of a step and I winced, my eyes filling with tears. “Ow.”
“You all right?” His body stretched out above mine. A hand rubbed carefully at the back of my skull.
“Um, yeah.” The scent of his soap and shampoo was pure heaven, Lord help me. But there was something more than that. His cologne. It wasn’t heavy. Just a light scent of spice. There was something really familiar about it.
The tag hanging down in front of my face momentarily distracted me however. “Three hundred dollars?”
“It’s worth it.”
“Holy shit. No, it’s not.”
He hung the thong from the tip of a finger, a crazy cool smile on his face. “Trust me. I’d have paid ten times that amount for this. No questions asked.”
“David, I could get the exact same thing for less than a tenth of that price in a normal store. That’s insane.”
“No, you couldn’t.” He balanced his weight on an elbow set on the step beside my head and started reading from the tag. “See, this exquisite lace is handmade by local artists in a small region of northern Italy famous for just such craftsmanship. It’s made from only the finest of silks. You can’t get that at Walmart, baby.”
“No, I guess not.”
He made a pleased humming sound and looked at me with eyes soft and hazy. Then his smile faded. He pulled back and scrunched the thong up in his hand. “Anyway.”
“Wait.” My fingers curled around his biceps, keeping him in place.
“What’s up?” he asked, his voice tightening.
“Just, let me…” I lifted my face to his neck. The scent was strongest there. I breathed him deep, letting myself get high off the scent of him. I shut my eyes and remembered.
“Evelyn?” The muscles in his arms flexed and hardened. “I’m not sure this is a good idea.”
“We were in the gondolas at the Venetian. You said you couldn’t swim, that I’d have to save you if we capsized.”
His Adam’s apple jumped. “Yeah.”
“I was terrified for you.”
“I know. You hung on to me so tight I could barely breathe.”
I drew back so I could see his face.
“Why do you think we stayed on them for so long?” he asked. “You were practically sitting in my lap.”
“Can you swim?”
He laughed quietly. “Of course I can swim. I don’t even think the water was that deep.”
“It was all a ruse. You’re tricky, David Ferris.”
“And you’re funny, Evelyn Thomas.” His face relaxed, his eyes softening again. “You remembered something.”
“Yes.”
“That’s great. Anything else?”
I gave him a sad smile. “No, sorry.”
He looked away, disappointed, I think, but trying not to let it show.
