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“But I like playing with you.” I trail a finger up the inside of her thigh, enjoying the way a shudder rolls through her body and her breath puffs past her lips. “Tell me something,” I say, glancing over my shoulder to where a tiny black dot is scurrying across the wall. “If the spider is way over there, why are you over here, standing on a stool? You seem pretty safe to me.”
“Are you kidding me?” The pan nearly takes my head off when Claire swings it to point at the wall. “Look how fast that monster is! He started in the hallway. The hallway, Avery! He was chasing me!” Her eyes flip down to me. “Spiders can smell fear, you know.”
I’m pretty sure that’s not a real thing, but I’m not going to argue with her while she’s got a makeshift weapon in her hands and she’s teetering on the edge of crazy.
She shifts her weight, kicking one leg out to the side, trying to grab onto a piece of paper towel with her toes.
“Fuck’s sake,” I say with a groan, dragging a hand down my face. “Can you not? You’re going to fall and break your legs. I absolutely cannot have that before I have them wrapped around my waist while I’m buried nine inches deep inside of you.” I grab her non-pan wielding hand and steady her on the stool, then move around her and rip off a sheet of paper towel.
“Nine in—” Her head swivels down to me, eyes huge. “Nine inches?” Now she’s shrieking about something other than the spider who’s infiltrated her apartment. Distraction is good.
I move across the room in three long strides and plant my hands on my hips, studying the little spider. It stops, almost as if engaging me in a good old-fashioned stare-down. This thing’s tiny, the whole circumference of it—legs and all—the size of my thumbnail.
I throw Claire a glance over my shoulder. She’s got the frying pan raised above her shoulder, grip so tight her knuckles are turning white. I stifle the urge to laugh. “So you’re scared of spiders, huh?”
“Terrified.” It comes out as a burst of air.
“Well then, you won’t like this news.” I turn back to the spider overhead.
“What? What, Avery? Oh my God, what?” She’s freaking out. I love it.
“Looks like big momma here just laid some eggs.” I’m so mean. I’ve earned many a smack upside the head from my sister for shit just like this.
“What? No! No!” A soft cry pushes past her lips and I smile at the spider. If it could understand me—which it can’t—it’d be laughing too. “Oh, God. I’m gonna be sick.”
I can’t help it. My shoulders shake and my head drops as the laughter I’ve been holding back since I walked in here ripples through my body, rumbling out my chest.
“Oh my God! You asshole! I’m gonna kill you, Avery Beck!” Claire shouts at me. I look back at her, watching as she slices the pan through the air. The towel around her head unwinds and tumbles down to the floor, wet hair cascading down around her shoulders. “When I get my hands on you—”
“You’re gonna love me for saving your life.”
Her mouth twists with rage and her eyes narrow past the point of dangerous. I throw her a wink before turning back to the spider.
“Alright, little guy. You’ve overstayed your welcome. Let’s get you out of here before Claire fries you up and eats you for dinner.”
I expect the eight-legged furball to scurry off when I reach for him, but he must be just as terrified of the frying pan-wielding crazy lady as I am, because he stays put, letting me scoop him right off the wall with the paper towel. I step out onto the balcony and deposit him on the railing, and he just sits there for a moment before taking off like he’s Usain Bolt.
I find the garbage under the kitchen sink, throw out the napkin, wash my hands, and lean back on the counter. “You good?”
“Y-yes.” Claire’s shoulders sag as her trembling body slowly stills, arms dropping to her side, the frying pan with along it. Her gaze shifts to mine and she sighs.
I pry the pan out of her fingers. They’re cold and clammy, a telltale sign of a real fear. Once the pan is safely stowed away, my hands glide up her legs, over her hips, settling in the dip of her waist. I hoist her off the stool, depositing her in front of me on the floor.
“What do I get as a thank you?”
Without hesitation, she steps forward, wrapping her arms around my waist and hugging me tight, her cheek pressed to my chest. The hesitation comes a moment later when her body goes rigid against mine. It might be because I’ve apparently frozen solid. I wasn’t expecting this, and for some reason, it feels…intimate. Something I’m not all that used to with women. Not in this way, at least.
Slowly, my arms come up, winding around her petite frame as I hold her close, breathing her in. She smells so good, fresh and fruity, a hint of coconut. But she feels even better.
She clears her throat and pushes off me, tucking a damp wave behind her ear. Her gaze lands on the floor. “Thank you,” Claire whispers. Then she perks up, speaking with life for the first time since I got here. “My brother used to catch the spiders for me, but then he’d chase me around the house with them. He was such an asshole growing up. Once he accidentally dropped one on my head, and I ran into a wall because I was blinded by tears and rage.” She smiles up at me, her nose twitching. “So, thanks for not doing that.”
Chuckling, I tweak her nose, ’cause it’s kinda cute. I guess. Whatever. “I like to tease you, but I can’t imagine doing that to you. That’s just plain mean.” Harper would have gouged my eyes out with a fork if I pulled that shit on her.
“Oh, I know. Casey never meant to drop it, but I think that’s why my fear is so bad now. I honestly thought I was going to have to shave my entire head. He felt so bad he did all my chores for a month and gave me a piggyback to and from school for a week.”
“You want me to piggyback you to and from work for pretending there was a bunch of spider eggs somewhere in your apartment?”
She shakes her head, copper hair swishing around her face, stirring up that sweet, fruity fragrance. “I want you to do all my chores.”
