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I still don’t think the curse is a good thing, though. Nothing that can take a lifelong friendship and turn it on its head is a good thing. It’s a very, very bad thing. It’s insidious, like a silent fart creeping through the room. I do not like or trust silent farts. Silent farts are no one’s friend.
I rest my case. I need to find a way to break this silent fart of a curse.
CHAPTER 7
Elodie
I’m aware, as I drift into consciousness, of the rain drumming slowly down on the roof of the room. The motel is long and L-shaped, so there are no rooms above ours. As such, it gives the big raindrops unfettered access to play a steady symphony, where it played for the rest of the day after our talk by the pool. I think both of us were going stir crazy, so we both went to bed early, the baggage wall between us.
Except it’s not there now.
And something strange is going on.
There’s something heavy over my shoulders, chest, and legs. There’s also something blissfully warm and solid as a brick wall pressed up against my back and something hard pressed against my butt.
I blink slowly, but the room is still dark. I went to bed too early, and now it’s probably the middle of the dang night. Or a few hours from daylight. I try and wriggle over a few inches so I can crank my head around, but I can’t budge. I’m weighed down by…heavy limbs. Jeffers has been known to get into bed with me at night, but this isn’t him draped all across me because these are not dog paws, and there are no doggy breaths blowing in my ear.
My left arm is free, and I reach over, feeling with my fingertips. I feel…other fingertips, a hand, the smoothest, warmest skin, and little bumps of bone…knuckles, I think. There’s also something raised…a vein. I keep running my finger up, unable to stop as I memorize every single bit of the hand, up to the wrist, past it, to the forearm. I splay my fingertips, using three of them now to map out the arm.
Something else happens when I realize what exactly is pressed into my behind. A strange, burning, wild ache starts in the pit of my stomach, and it makes me realize how empty I am, uh, lower. It’s a near animalistic need, hot and burning.
Somehow, in the night, Taylen moved those bags, and now he’s pressed up against me. He has one arm around me and one leg draped over mine, like a human blanket or a human shield. He’s heavy and hard, with warm muscles and soft skin. My best friend is spooning me. And the hard thing against my bottom? I guess he’s enjoying it.
Except he’s out cold because I can hear his soft snores in my ear. He isn’t even aware he’s doing this, but I am. Oh, I’m more than aware. I try and scoot over a few inches, but I’m trapped. The only thing I can do is wake Taylen up.
“Taylen,” I whisper yell. Nothing happens, but then I figured it wouldn’t. Taylen is a pretty deep sleeper. I clear my throat and cough into the room. “Taylen!” I yell.
“Gah!” He whips around and flies off the bed, his warmth, the press of his solid chest, and the deadweight of his limbs leaving me.
I should be relieved. And I am, I guess. But if that’s true, then why is my body throbbing so hard that it feels like my ovaries might combust into pieces of glittery stardust? I can just imagine the way the explosion would look in the darkness of this room.
I mean, I know what it is, but it doesn’t make sense since it’s never had a reaction like this for Tay. I know I’m turned on, and I can feel how wet I am when I glide my legs together and curl into a small ball on my side. My heart is skittering around like an angry squirrel whipping its tail and chattering at some beast of prey below. However, it doesn’t feel wrong. Or gross. And I’m not panicked. Rather, I’m entirely something else.
“Who’s there?” Taylen calls out sharply. I can see his shadow whipping around in the dark, his head rotating back and forth.
“No one,” I say as I flip onto my back to look up at the ceiling, even though I can’t quite manage it because it’s too dark.
Taylen drops back to the bed. He sits down hard, and the impact nearly rocks me back onto my side. I get hit with a bag somewhere around foot level, but I still have no idea where the other ones went. I’m quiet, he’s quiet, and then it registers.
“Oh! Oh my god.” His hands pat the bed, searching for the wall. “Oh. Shit. Was I…did I…was I in your space?”
