“I don’t know, Sloane. His breath escapes as we walk the short walk back to our hotel room. It’s hard to imagine you asking me that because you know me so well. You really showed that you understand how much I hate that shit by shooting from the hip 4 like a total crazy woman.
My head spins and I lean on his robust figure.
-EITHER! I raise a finger triumphantly. Shooting from the tits!
“Lord, help me,” he moans.
Like the girls from Austin Powers! You already know them. Bullet bras? How wonderful.
“Thank you for taking care of me, Sunny,” is all he responds as he gives me a squeeze.
I rest my head on the edge of his shoulder.
“Always, Jas. Plus, I think those girls really liked me.
4 Shooting from the hip: Reacting without carefully considering your words or actions.
16
jasper
Harvey: Do you guys have a safe place to spend the night?
Jasper: Yes. Hotel in Rose Hill.
Harvey: Two bedrooms or one? 😉
Jasper: Don’t be weird. One room, two beds.
Harvey: I’m not weird. You are the one who has a crush on your cousin.
Jasper: She’s not my cousin.
Harvey: Ha! But you didn’t deny being crazy.
Sloane is drunk.
Hilariously drunk.
Completely without filter.
And leaning on me much harder than I ever imagined someone his size could.
Her soft giggles accompany the low hum of the yellowish neon lights above us in the hotel hallway, and she continues to step on my feet.
“You’re a dancer.” Aren’t you supposed to be graceful?
He ignores me and raises his head in my direction.
“Have you realized that you have a fair grain…?” He points to a point near the hairline that curves around his temple.
I snort.
“No, Sloane. I’m not worried about my skin lately.
“It’s annoying.” You probably wash your face with shampoo, never moisturize, and only put on sunscreen when you’re on vacation. And you still look like that. His hand points to my body.
I reach into my pocket and pull out the room key.
I wash my face with liquid soap.
She groans and throws her head back dramatically, staring at the ceiling.
-You can not do that.
-Because? My face is part of my body.
“He doesn’t have what it takes.” He sways while pulling on his shoes and I suppress a laugh. Although it smells divine, like mint and whatever.
Mint and eucalyptus. The same soap I have used for years. What things does my face need?
A shoe flies by and hits the wall.
-Oh! His eyes widen and he laughs again. I’m glad she’s a happy drunk. I don’t think I could stand him being sad right now. Vitamin C. Peptides. Exfoliating acids. You’re not going to get younger. You should consider retinol, but then you have to put on sunscreen every day. My God. The next shoe follows suit and she enters the bathroom. I have the best idea.
“Sunny, I’m not sure this is the time when you come up with your best ideas.
“Are you calling me drunk, Gervais?” he shouts from the small room.
I hear noises as I take off my shoes and straighten his by the door.
-Never. You are perfectly sober. But I’m going to bring you a bottle of water and you’re going to drink it, okay?
“Are there any of those little bottles of Grand Marnier or whatever?” Hotels are always full of alcohol that no one drinks. I mean, who drinks Grand Marnier?
I laugh and head to the refrigerator. There are two bottles of water.
“I don’t think this is a Grand Marnier type hotel.
He comes out of the bathroom door as soon as I straighten up, a plastic bottle in each hand.
But he also has other bottles in his hand.
Facials! shrieks.
-That? I blink once, looking at her soft blonde hair and happy eyes.
She’s holding a purple bottle and a green glass jar with something in it and shaking them at me like I’m stupid.
“I’ll drink your water if you give me a facial.”
I have to say that the first place my head goes is not to beauty products.
-Don’t worry. I’ll give you one too.
The image of Sloane straddling my face, my hands on her ass as she stares into my eyes, comes to mind.
It’s not the first time. Normally, I push the thought away, but tonight I feel loose enough to let it linger. To see her move. To think about the sounds it could make.
“Cheer up, Gervais! She jumps on the bed, drops the skincare products on the mattress, and gestures toward her, curling her fingers in her palm.
Seriously, it doesn’t help. All the blood in my body rushes south, and I cover it by throwing a bottle of water at it.
“Drink this first,” I tell him as he flies.
But tonight his reflexes are slow and the bottle hits him in the face. Right on the nose.
The boys and I throw water bottles at each other on the bench all the time. It is natural. He shudders and I gasp as I take long strides to the bed to check on him. He has his hands together over his face and moves his fingers to examine himself.
I feel terrible. I don’t feel well. The thought of anyone hurting Sloane-even me-makes fire course through my veins.
When I touch his shoulder, he looks at me and… He starts laughing.
“Haha!” You just threw that in my face, you clumsy son of a bitch!
-I did not do it! I shake my head in denial. It was not my intention! Very sorry. Are you OK?
He laughs harder.
-I’m fine! I’m fine. Totally fine. His words wheeze around his laughter.
My palms squeeze his shoulders in time, drawing his attention to my face.
“Sunny, you’re crazy right now. You need to drink some water.
His lips retract as he struggles to maintain his composure.
-OK. -He nods and opens the bottle of water next to him. He brings it almost to his lips and stops, looks away and bursts into laughter again. I can’t believe you hit me in the face like that!