Page 66 of Feel It in the Air

17

GUS

My stomach is full.

My heart even more so.

And my dick is rock hard.

That last part is going to have to wait though.

Margeaux shifts, repositioning her head on my shoulder as the late, great Robin Williams fills the screen, muttering, “The son of a bitch stole my line.” I tighten my arm around her, even though I know the only thing coming up is the end credits, but I can’t help myself. I understand Robin and Will’s sentiment more now than ever.

I gotta go see about a girl…

Except, my girl is right here in my arms. Right where she should be. Right where I want to keep her.

The credits start to roll, and I know we have to move. If for no other reason than to shift this raging hard-on. The one that’s been begging for relief since Margeaux curled up into me and started dragging her hand along the inside of my thigh about halfway through the movie. If I didn’t know any better, I’d say she did it on purpose just to tease me.

Hell, maybe she did.

“They need to make a sequel,” Margeaux comments, lazily circling my kneecap with her finger. Desire shoots straight through me, and now I’m convinced she’s doing it on purpose.

“Why? Best movie ever made, hands down. They don’t need to go ruining it with a sequel.”

Popping up, her red hair mussed from lying against me, Margeaux gives me an incredulous look. “You don’t want to know what happened with Will and Skylar?”

“Can’t say I’ve ever put much thought into it.”

Which is the truth. To me this movie isn’t about them. It’s about Will, figuring out who he is and for the first time in his life having the strength to do something for himself. Stand up for himself. Sure, part of that was about going and getting the girl. But not all of it.

Clearly, Margeaux disagrees.

“And it’s not the best movie ever made. That’s Shawshank, thank you.”

I nod. Okay, I’ll give her that one. There’s no competing against Morgan Freeman.

“Shawshank excluded, best movie ever made,” I counter, trying to pull her back into me. She’s not that far away, but I miss the feel of her body pressed against mine. “And hands down Robin Williams at his best. Well, this and Mrs. Doubtfire.”

“Haven’t seen it.”

Record scratch…

I blink, hard, trying to process what she just said. I’m blinded by the beauty staring back at me for a second, my brain unable to compute.

“Did…did you just say that you’ve never seen Mrs. Doubtfire?”

She nods. “It was before my time.”

“Before—” I cut myself off, my brain still trying to catch up.

How is that possible? And then it hits me. We’re not the same age. She’s the same age as my baby sister, who is quite a bit younger than I am. And has potentially only been exposed to a number of things because she has six older brothers. Whereas Margeaux is the oldest in her family.

“I can see that ten-year age difference working its way through your brain right now.”

Hauling her into my lap, I capture the squeak she lets out as I kiss her hard. Ten fucking years. Damn, do I owe Milo an apology. For all the shit I gave him about Brenna being too young, and what he could possibly have in common or see in someone that much younger than him. And here I am, the most perfect woman I’ve ever met, nestled in my lap, with almost as big of an age gap.

And the only thing that matters in this moment is keeping her here. And getting her naked.