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Eek!
EIGHT
EDDIE FIXES ONE OF MY PROBLEMS
The alarm went off, and as it didn’t sound like mine, I knew immediately where I was.
I took stock of my surroundings and realized the warm coziness I felt had a lot to do with being tangled up in Eddie Chavez.
My body tensed and I started to move away.
Eddie’s arms, which were wrapped around me, tightened. One of his thighs, incidentally, was wedged between my legs and my thigh was hooked over his hip. Not to mention one of my hands was pressed against his chest, the other arm wrapped around his waist, um…eek!
“You need to turn off the alarm,” I said instead of “good morning.”
“Turnin’ off the alarm would mean lettin’ you go,” he replied, his voice sexy-rough.
I decided to ignore his sexy, rough voice.
“And?” I asked.
“I’m not gonna do that,” he answered and snuggled closer, though I wouldn’t have thought that possible.
I listened to the blaring noise. It was annoying.
“You have to turn it off,” I said.
“I’m not turnin’ it off.”
“Someone has to turn it off. You’re closer. I don’t know what button to press.”
He didn’t answer.
I listened to the noise. I tried to pull away.
This time, Eddie’s arms and thigh tightened.
I was stuck.
“Oh for goodness sake,” I snapped and then pushed into him, rolled him on his back and reached over. This meant I was sprawled on top of him and I decided to hate Eddie instead of love him and want to give Blanca grandbabies.
There were at least seven dozen buttons at the top, so I just ran my fingers down all of them in hopes one of them would turn off the alarm. Instead, the buzzing went away and an old Big Head Todd and the Monsters tune came on.
It wasn’t just a good song, it was a great song, but it was also a sexy song.
Wonderful.
I pushed against Eddie’s chest and peered closer at the alarm to see which button would turn off the music and saw it was also a CD player. Just when I was about to push “stop,” he pressed into me and rolled me on my back, him on top.
Not good.
Last night, after Eddie announced we were going to bed, he was good to his word.
He planted a lookout in the parking lot of my apartment building. I called Mom to tell her I wasn’t coming home, to her everlasting glee, which amounted to a piercing scream of joy, which I could swear Eddie heard from across the room. He’d given me a T-shirt that was faded black, had been washed a million times and was soft and comfy. Then we’d gone to bed and slept, no hanky panky, nothing.
I wasn’t going to press my luck.
I decided to go for belligerence. I needed to get up, get dressed and get the hell out of there as fast as humanly possible and I figured being a bitch was the way to go.
