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“Oh. That.”
“It’s true.”
“Well, hopefully it’s a little less true now.”
Reaching for her breasts, Michael lazily traced a line around her nipples with his index finger. Summer moaned with pleasure. His hands on her body were pure bliss. She shuddered to think of where and how he had picked up his technique.
“I’m serious. I mean I know your whole family better than I know you. Your mom’s a machine. Your dad’s a saint.”
“I wouldn’t go that far,” muttered Michael.
“And Roxie was always so happy-go-lucky and sweet . . . before, you know.”
“Yeah.” Michael smiled sadly. “She was.”
“But I don’t know anything about you. Not really.”
Michael lay back, throwing his arms wide, like a hot version of Jesus. “Ask me anything. I’m an open book.”
“Okay.” Summer propped herself up in bed. Michael loved the way her long chestnut hair spilled over her shoulders onto his sheets.
“Why did you quit Oxford?”
“That’s easy,” said Michael. “It was boring. Next question.”
“Are you easily bored?”
“Very. This is fun.”
“By women?”
“If they’re boring, yes. Don’t worry. You’re not boring.”
He reached between her thighs. Summer firmly removed his hand.
“I’m not worried. And you’re not boring either. Yet.”
Michael grinned. He liked a challenge.
“Any more questions, Miss Meyer, or can the witness be excused?”
“Plenty. Why do you always defend your mother when she and Roxie fight?”
Michael frowned. “Do I?”
“You did at supper the other night.”
He thought for a while, then said, “I suppose I defend her because nobody else does. I love Roxie as much as anyone, and we all feel terrible about what happened to her. But she can be very unfair to Mummy. She blames her for everything.”
“Isn’t your mother to blame, though?” Summer asked.
“She can be cruel to Rox at times,” Michael admitted. “She’s to blame for that.”
“But wasn’t she the one who drove Roxie’s boyfriend away? That’s what I heard.”
“You can’t drive someone away who doesn’t want to be driven. He was a grown man, not a goat.”
Michael was angry, but he wasn’t sure why. He’d never really talked about this with anyone, not even with Tommy, his best friend. No one in the family talked about it. But perhaps, he realized, that was part of the problem, part of what gave Roxie’s tragedy its power. The fact that it had become taboo.
