Page 26 of Wrecked

I pull on my T-shirt and fan out my chest. “It is so hot in here. I can hardly breathe.”

My hair might be in a cute pony, but the little hairs that have escaped are sticking to the back of my neck. I know Adam said I have to dress so as not to get any scratches, but sanding is hardly going to get me hurt. Deciding his rules are dumb, I lift off my T-shirt and throw it to the side. Now, I’m just wearing a black racerback sports bra. I’m still sweaty. At least now, my shirt isn’t sticking to my armpits.

I glance back. Adam is crouched on the floor, block in hand, with his head swiveled around, looking at me. His eyes widen slightly as they stare at my chest peeking out of the top.

“I’m wearing your stupid mask. You can’t make me wear a shirt.”

He blinks and looks down, suddenly fascinated by the pile of dust that has formed by his boot. “I didn’t say anything.”

“Well”—I sidestep and then head back to my wall—“your face says it all.”

When lunchtime rolls around, I put my shirt back on, and we head downstairs. Adam hands me a lunch bag and then stalks off to talk to Toby.

I grab a water from the cooler and take a seat at one of the folding tables. Opening my bag, I see he packed me a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, banana, and a Hershey’s Kiss. There’s something oddly adorable about the lunch, like he made it for his kid. That said, there’s also something annoyingly condescending about the lunch, like he made it for a kid.

I open the chocolate and pop it into my mouth. The metal chair beneath my butt is hot, and the table is out in the sun. I place the water bottle between my boobs and let the ice-cold plastic cool my skin.

“What are you doing?” Adam says as he takes a chair from the opposite side of the table and sits down. He reaches into his brown bag and takes out a sandwich.

“I’m curing cancer with my breasts,” I answer sarcastically. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

He holds his now unwrapped sandwich up in the air. “It looks like you’re trying to draw attention to yourself.”

I pick up my Hershey’s wrapper and throw it at him. The silver hits his temple, but he keeps chewing on his damn sandwich.

If he wants me to show him looking for attention, I’ll show him looking for attention. I lift my banana off the table and hold it up to my face, just inches away. Slowly, I run my hand up the shaft of the fruit, down, and back up again. My gaze leisurely glances around the site, as if the act of fondling a banana is completely normal.

Adam drops his sandwich in annoyance. “Now, what are you doing?”

With a hand to my heart, I look at him with the most serious yet confused face I can muster. “Checking for firmness. I don’t want to waste a banana if I’m not going to eat it.” I shoot him a duh expression, turn the banana upside down, and squeeze the tip to break it open.

“You open your bananas wrong,” he says, with his finger pointed at me.

I place my elbow on the table and school him, “For your information, you open your bananas wrong. This is the way monkeys do it. And being that it’s their primary source of nutrition, I think they know what they’re doing.”

“They also eat bugs and shit. You wanna do that, too?”

I pinch in my cheeks and let out an annoyed grunt. “Shut up.” I wave him off. “Go arrest someone or something.”

“Been there, done that,” he says with a smirk, showcasing the perfect pearly whites he obtained from years of braces in middle school. He goes back to eating his PB and J.

I can feel my eyes scrunching in at him. He is so smug, and I want to kick him.

I focus my attention back to my banana and peel it down halfway, letting the white glistening tip of the fruit shine in the afternoon heat. I poke my tongue out of my mouth and trace the rim, running my tongue around it a few times.

“Leah.” His voice is stern, but I ignore him.

Opening my mouth, I press my lips around the banana and let the fruit go deep into my throat. Closing my lips over the soft core, I pull up ever so slowly in an erotic way.

“Leah.” He’s trying to intimidate me, but I don’t care.

Again and again, I run my lips and tongue up and down the shaft of the banana, giving it the greatest blow job of my life.

Adam bangs his fist on the table and rises. “Leah Marie Paige, what the hell are you doing?”

With a quick move of my head, I look over at him and take a great big, giant bite. With my mouth full, I say, “Eating my banana. Sheesh. Do you always yell at people when they eat?”

He shoves away from the table, causing it to rock. I place my hand to steady it while Adam stalks off toward the shaded tree.