Breaking the Silence (13 page)

Will wiggled out of his coat and tossed it over the back of a nearby chair. He scooped Jenny up with an arm under her hips and carried her to the couch. Her dress was short and soft, the fabric slightly slippery against his arm and warm from her body. She nestled against him with a sleepy murmur.

“Hi, Will!” Christian chirped, as if he hadn’t just accused him of torture. “Have a seat. We’re watching
Bring It On
.” Chris patted the couch next to him.

Will settled on the sofa, shifting Jenny easily until she was snuggled on his lap, her head against his chest. He hadn’t seen the movie before but it seemed to be about…cheerleaders?

Christian scrunched down so he could rest his head against the back of the couch. “Oh this is a good part—spirit fingers!” He chortled, watching the flat screen.

Baffled, Will watched the movie with the same sense of unreality that he had felt the night before—actually, for much of the time during the past week. He was sitting next to a guy he could almost call a friend, watching a cheerleading movie of all things, holding his sleeping girlfriend—could he call her that yet?—who had gone out with him, had sex with him, sucked him off and made him pancakes, all in the past two days. He wasn’t hating it. In fact, he was pretty fucking content.

Idly playing with a strand of Jenny’s hair, Will relaxed against the couch to watch the rest of the movie. He had to see which team won the national cheerleading competition, after all.

Will woke with a stiff neck. Reality came slowly, piece by piece, as he gradually figured out where he was and who was on top of him. He was wedged into the corner of the couch—Christian’s couch, he remembered—legs stretched across the middle cushion and his feet propped on a metal and glass coffee table. Jenny was draped across his right side, curled in the circle of his arm, her legs tangled around one of his, her face buried in his chest.

Christian’s sleeping head was on his left thigh and Will didn’t know how he felt about that, except that it seemed mean to move and wake either of the sleepers, especially considering the hangovers that awaited them. The rest of Christian’s body was curled in a very uncomfortable-looking pretzel twist, his lower legs dangling over the other end of the couch. Will had no idea how Christian managed to sleep in that contorted position.

They shouldn’t call it the sleep of the dead
, thought Will.
It should be the sleep of the
drunk
.

He held still for a few minutes, twitchy with the need to stretch—and take a piss. He shifted slightly and the movement, as small as it was, made Jenny turn her head against him, groaning softly. She blinked sleepy eyes before focusing on Will’s face and smiling.

“Hey,” she whispered.

Will smiled back. “How do you feel?” he asked, brushing the hair off her cheeks with gentle fingers.

“Oh, fine now but I’m sure the embarrassment will come. I have an inconveniently good memory after a night of drunkenness and debauchery.”

He quirked an eyebrow. “No hangover?” As drunk as she had been the night before, he would have expected her to be laid out for most of the day.

“Nope. With the curse of a good memory comes the blessing of no hangover.” Jenny shrugged. “Never get ’em. Now Christian, on the other hand, is going to be a sad, sad wreck of a man today. Is he still sleeping?”

Will nodded at the head resting on his thigh and Jenny looked down then gave a stifled laugh. “Oh poor Will! You were stuck playing Dad, thanks to us degenerate kids. You must be so sore, sleeping like this!” She stretched up to kiss him, only able to reach as far as his chin. She glanced down at Christian again and started to giggle.

“Isn’t he
sweet
when he’s sleeping,” she cooed. Jenny reached down to poke him and Christian, still mostly asleep, shrugged her hand away and turned his head, burrowing into the hard thigh beneath him.

Will jumped—Chris’ movement had brought his face a little too close to his crotch for comfort. Jenny must have noticed Will’s predicament because, biting back a smile, she gave Christian’s shoulder a determined shove.

“Hey Sleeping Beauty! Get your head out of my boyfriend’s privates!” she barked and Christian moaned, lifting his face a mere inch.

“Why do you hate me, Jen?” he whimpered. “It’s your fault I’m in this state to start with, forcing drinks down my throat like the evil bitch that you are, and now you’re shrieking like a banshee at me and my head is pounding hard enough to jump completely off my neck and land on the floor.” His face a sickly greenish-white, Christian slowly pushed himself out of Will’s lap and off the couch. Still muttering invectives, he shuffled his way to the bathroom, cursing the furniture for bumping into him.

Will was a little concerned but Jenny just grinned and stood up, straightening with a groan of her own. Will imagined she must be a mess of stiff muscles. “Don’t worry, he’ll be fine. He just needs the magic hangover cure.”

“Not more alcohol?” Will asked.

“God no!” Jenny looked slightly green at the idea. “I was talking about coffee. I don’t get looped very often but when I do, it puts me off liquor for weeks. Just the thought of it… Ugh.” She shuddered then grabbed his hand to tug him off the couch. “I don’t know about you but I’m starving. Let’s see what kind of breakfast we can dig out of Christian’s kitchen—I hope he’s not still on his celery diet.”

“Celery diet?” Will was horrified. He didn’t even like celery
in
things, much less as the whole meal.

“He read something somewhere about how chewing celery burned more calories than the celery actually contained, so
voila
, the celery diet. Before that he tried the dancers’ diet and before
that
he tried to go vegan but he’s just not really into soy, so that didn’t work so well, and before that—”

“Why? He’s not fat.”

Jenny shrugged. “I think he just likes being trendy.” She started the coffeemaker and turned to rummage through the chrome fridge, listing food as she went. “It looks like the celery diet’s history. Okay, we have Chinese leftovers, pickles, a few condiments, milk,” she opened the carton to sniff, “nope, scratch the milk. Hmm…I’m not sure what this is…and some slightly shriveled baby carrots.” Jenny shut the fridge. “Looks like we’re going to the diner for breakfast. Let’s see if hangover boy is game to try some solids.”

As if on cue, Christian shuffled into the kitchen, still looking slightly worse for wear. “Coffee?” he croaked, looking hopeful.

“Almost,” Jenny told him, reaching over to pat his rumpled hair. He jerked his head away from her hand and then clutched his temples in pain.

“It’s not right that you could be that drunk and feel nothing the next morning.” Christian scowled at her sunny face. “You’re like some freakish freak person.”

Jenny just grinned at him. “I do so feel something,” she retorted. “Hungry! Want to go to the diner for some chow?”

Christian shuddered, carefully lowering himself to a kitchen chair, his hands holding his head steady. “Why don’t you just shoot me instead?”

“Too messy.” Jenny thought for a moment. “Hey, Will. Why don’t we run to my place and take care of Rosie, I’ll grab a quick shower and maybe some different clothes.” Looking ruefully at her crumpled dress, she continued, “I don’t even want to think about what kind of mess my hair and face are in.”

Will thought she looked beautiful. He ran a hand over his morning stubble. “I’m the mess,” he said.

“Please,” Jenny snorted, eyeing him up and down. “You’re positively tidy, especially for someone who just spent the night being squashed and drooled on by two drunks.” Her gaze dropped lower until she was staring at his crotch. His cock began obediently swelling under her gaze. Jenny must have noticed, since she flushed and jerked her head up to meet his eyes.

“We can stop at your house too, if you need to,” Jenny offered, her voice a little gruff. Will hoped she wasn’t embarrassed. He was always staring at her, eating her with his eyes. It was nice to see her have a horn-dog moment. So nice, in fact, that Will had to press back a beaming grin.

“We’ll give you a call on our way to the diner and see if you’re up for breakfast by then,” Jenny said as she poured coffee into a mug and offered it to a pathetically grateful Christian. He nodded and waved them off, looking slightly cheered by the shot of caffeine. There was a slight delay as Jenny looked for her coat while explaining to Will that she
might
have left it at the bar and stumbled to Christian’s house in just her dress, but Will found it wadded under the end table. Obviously, it had seemed to Jenny like a good place to put it the night before.

Will helped her into her coat and guided her out of the building with his wide hand on her back. The connection felt good and Jenny moved more closely into his side. The morning was gray and early, and she was still slightly muzzy from the lack of sleep the night before—and the night before that. He helped her into the passenger side of the car and she snuggled into the seat.

Although this was only the third time she had ridden in his car, it surrounded her with a comforting feeling of familiarity—just like Will did. It was nice to be taken care of, to be held while she slept. It had only been two nights but Jenny didn’t want to go back to sleeping alone in her bed, not even in her favorite monkey-patterned pajamas.

Will climbed into the driver’s seat and started the car. Jenny reached over and interlaced his fingers with hers. He glanced at her.

“Thank you,” she told him, smiling softly.

“For what?”

“For coming when I called you. For watching
Bring It On
with Christian while I slept and drooled on you. For letting Chris sleep on you and not freaking out about it. For…I don’t know—existing, I guess.”

His hand tightened on hers for a second. He shrugged and looked through the windshield. “It wasn’t that bad.”

“What wasn’t? The movie? Will, it was a cheerleading movie. I can’t imagine it was on your list of must-see films.”

“We watched
Bad Boys
when it was over.”

Jenny laughed and released his hand so he could shift into drive. “Christian’s DVD collection is nothing if not eclectic. What did you get, like an hour of sleep?”

Will shrugged again. “I wasn’t sleeping anyway.” He watched the road ahead of him intently. Too intently, Jenny thought, for the early Sunday morning lack of traffic.

“When I called, you mean?” She watched his profile curiously.

He nodded, just a short jerk of his head.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Jenny asked.

Another nod.

“Was something wrong?” Sometimes, she thought wryly, talking to Will was like playing twenty questions.

After a brief hesitation, he glanced at her quickly before his gaze bounced back to the straight-ahead position. “You’re…easy to get used to,” he said finally.

“Oh.” Jenny settled back, a smile tweaking the corners of her mouth. He couldn’t sleep because she wasn’t there. A bubble of contentment rose in her chest. It seemed wrong to be so glad about his insomnia but Jenny couldn’t help herself. He couldn’t sleep without her and that made her happy.

Rosie was very glad to see both of them. Jenny hopped into the shower for a quick wash while Will prowled the house. He wanted to join her but wasn’t sure about the rules of shower-sharing etiquette. Since she had invited him in once, did that give him permission to join her in all future showers? Or did each shower need its own invitation?

As he tried to dredge up the nerve to join her, he moved from room to room, moodily looking at the evidence of how different she was from him—her family pictures in frames arranged around the living room, crayon drawings fastened on the fridge with magnets, a calendar on the counter with notations like “Steph’s B-day” and “Dinner at Mom’s”. He was pleased to see that last Friday night had “Will!!!” inked in under the more sedate “Work Recept”.

Feeling a little guilty at his prying, he flipped the month over to February and noticed that the fourteenth had a scribbled drawing of a monster face and “Ick!” on it.

Will wondered about this for a second before it dawned on him that the date was Valentine’s Day. He had never taken any notice of the holiday before but now he had gift-giving responsibilities. Even as a mild panic itched at him—what should he get her?—warmth flowed over him at the idea that he had someone to buy for on Valentine’s Day. It was as if he had gotten an invitation to a members-only club.

This feeling buoyed him and he took the stairs two at a time. He went into the bathroom just as the water shut off, so Will grabbed a towel and waited for Jenny to step out.

“I didn’t think you were ever coming in here,” she said, sounding pleased, and stretched up to kiss him. He bent his head so that she could reach, wrapping the towel around her as he deepened the kiss. Her mouth was wet from the shower, her skin steamy and slick. Jenny pulled back from the kiss, laughing.

“If we keep this up, we’re never going to get any breakfast,” she said, blotting her hair with the towel. She nudged his chest.

“Back up,” she told him. When he reluctantly took a step back, Jenny turned and flipped her hair upside down, deftly wrapping the towel turban style around her head. She straightened as Will watched, totally charmed—not just by her nakedness, which was definitely entrancing, but by the feminine knowledge of the movement. He wondered if all baby girls were born knowing that very hair-wrapping trick.