“He asked me to be his best man,” I mumbled into the bare space above the V-neck of her top, my eyelashes brushing against her skin.
Her grip had never been so strong, but it was probably the most comforting thing I’d felt since July. “You’ll be the best best man.”
“You think?”
“Oh yes. That’s my prediction. And I’m always right, remember?”
She wore a faint smile when I looked up at her, tilting her head so her hair tumbled like a waterfall over her shoulder. “You look so sad.”
I didn’t answer.
She pressed the tip of her index finger into my bottom lip to quell its slight trembling, her pupils whizzing between both of mine.
I sat up, curling my hand around the back of her neck, ready to pull her to me, but the sudden movement dislodged her charging cable, sent it spiraling to the ground.
“Oh—I’m sorry,” she said, and I knew if she’d had blood, she’d be blushing.
“No.” I leaned over, handed it back to her. “My fault.”
“Well, this is a little humiliating.” She lifted her shirt, peeled up the layer of silicone beneath her left breast which concealed the USB port, and jammed the charger back home. She puffed out a sigh, rearranging her scrubs. “Almost feels like we just realized we forgot a condom or something, doesn’t it? All this build-up for nothing.”
I gave a hollow sort of laugh, but I was disgusted with myself for half-wishing she’d have pulled her shirt up further, let me see more of her as she plugged herself back in.
S
leep refused to visit me.
I turned the alarm clock toward the bed, bathing the room in its red glow. 3:02 a.m.
Flopping back on the pillows, half-upright against the headboard, I tried emptying my mind of all thought. Sleep was finicky, like a cat—it wouldn’t visit you if you sought it out too forcefully. You had to wait it out, give it some time, pretend you were busy.
I felt my heart beat in my throat, my chest heaving with the shallow, shuddering breaths I’d been taking since I left 311 Emery. I closed my eyes, wriggling until the pillows were smashed into a more comfortable shape, letting my arms hang loose at my sides. Look how much I don’t need you, sleep.
The air in the room seemed lighter, suddenly, not as thick as it had been with my hot, ragged, adrenaline-spiked breaths taking up space. I cracked an eye open and sat up straight, my heart pumping faster than ever.
The door was cracked. I’d closed it before I’d gotten into bed, but it was open now, opening a few inches further the longer I looked, until a figure stood in the threshold, black and red in the glaring light my alarm clock had cloaked the room in.
I yanked the sheet up to cover my chest, sputtering with shock. “How did you get here?”
Carissa slipped inside, quiet as smoke, her face still beautiful, even washed in red. “I wanted you, babe.” She sank onto the bed, tugged the sheet back, splayed her fingers against my chest. “You don’t need to cover up. It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”
“You just took me by surprise, is all,” I faltered, trying to peel her fingers off, but she didn’t budge, just pressed me more forcefully back against the pillows, holding me hostage with one firm hand.
“Shh.” She pressed a finger to my lips when I’d opened my mouth again, slithering beneath the sheet, and pulled herself onto my lap.
I wasn’t used to her being stronger than me, but the swapping of our usual roles had me wanting more, panting like all the oxygen in the room had evaporated. My hands slid up her waist under her scrub shirt when she leaned over, her hair draping on either side of my face, cocooning me.
“Take it off,” she said, sealing her forehead against mine. “You wanted to earlier.”
“You could tell?” I croaked, sliding my fingers up further, thumbing the raised line of silicone where her charging port was hidden. It didn’t even phase me, feeling that hint of her inhumanity.
“I can tell everything,” she whispered, right in my ear, sending the hair on the back of my neck standing on end with what felt like blended fear and desire.
But the second I’d whipped the shirt over her head, I woke up, sweating and hard and gasping and angrier than I’d been in a while, wishing I could have stayed in the dream for a little bit longer.
VIII
W hen’s your ceremony?” the saleswoman asked me.
I looked up from the shiny display of wedding bands and glanced across the banks of glass and chrome jewelry cases at Jason, who stood there, bouncing fretfully on his heels, peering down at all the rings with the slightly manic expression I’d come to attribute to a release day at work.
“Hey babe,” I called, focusing the camera on my phone and taking a picture of a solid-looking yellow gold band. “When’s our ceremony?”
“Shit. I don’t know, I hadn’t thought that far ahead—Fall?”
“Fall,” I told the saleswoman. “Can I see this one?”
Eww, Carissa responded just then to the picture I’d sent. Absolutely not that one. Too blocky-looking and yellow.
“Actually, I think I’m all set, don’t get that one out. Sorry.” I moved along the bank of glass cabinets, pausing in the platinum section to look at one band with a row of icy white diamond chips marching along the center. I took a picture again, sent it to Carissa.
He doesn’t think men should wear diamonds. A no on that one, as well.
Oh, come on, I messaged back. I could swear I’ve seen him wearing diamonds at one point.
You’re talking about his watch, and there aren’t any diamonds on it. It’s solid platinum, that’s it.
“Any luck?” I asked, catching up with Jason in the white gold section.
He pointed down at one, looking up at me with a frown on his face. “Maybe this one?”
I aimed my camera again, snapping another photo. “Sure, that one’s nice enough.”
Hmm…you may have found a contender.
“What are all the pictures for?” Jason asked.
“To refer back on later, so I don’t forget.” I tapped a nail on the glass. “This one,” I told the saleswoman, who swooped over. “Can we put this one on hold? Think it over and come back later once we’ve decided?”
“Of course,” she said smoothly. “We’re open until nine tonight.”
“Thanks. We’ll let you know.” I tugged on Jason’s sleeve, steering him away from the diamonds.
The saleswoman smiled as we headed for the exit. “I think you two will be very happy together. I hope we see you soon.”
I waved as we left, falling into step with Jason. “I think we’ll be very happy together, too,” I said, nudging his elbow.
“You’re an idiot,” he said, shaking his head as he zipped up his hoodie.
T
his must be what having an affair feels like, I thought later that same day, sitting in Carissa’s interrogation room. Could Jess and Nick sense something was different? It seemed impossible that they couldn’t feel some kind of frisson crackling in the air all around us, but Nick wasn’t paying me much mind, didn’t seem to notice that every few seconds Carissa looked up at me from under her eyelashes as she leaned over the tablet Jess held. My throat contracted every time our gazes collided.
“What about this one?” Jess looked up from the tablet screen and into Carissa’s face, which did not look impressed.
“Sure, if you’re going to play bingo with your grandmother in the nursing home,” Carissa said, wrinkling her nose.
“It’s not that bad.” Jess snatched the tablet away, squinting at the screen, but her frown deepened further with every second. “Maybe you’re right. Too much lace?”
“The neckline’s all wrong, it looks like it’d fit like a noose. Definitely not date-wear.” She took the tablet from Jess, swiping until she settled on a different outfit Jess had found in her closet. “This one, but not those shoes. Blue dress and blue heels are too matchy-matchy. You have any white or nude heels?”
/>
Nick gave me a sideways look. I nodded in confirmation to the question he hadn’t voiced. Yes, that response was most typical for Carissa, her finicky little fashion rules that never made any sense to me, because why couldn’t you wear jewelry with a sparkly dress or boots after March?
“I think so. Somewhere in my closet. I don’t know why I bother anyway,” Jess said, scowling at Nick, who didn’t even notice, his head bent over his phone, typing notes. “Usually I’m lucky if I get him to take me to Applebee’s, but I made a rule that we have an actual date once a month. Though typically he does exactly what he’s doing now during those dates.”
Nick didn’t look up. “I have a lot on my plate, you know that.”
“And I’m the most understanding girlfriend you could ever hope for,” Jess said, smiling at him, but when he didn’t do anything other than bob his head over his phone, she sighed, looking back at Carissa and me. “Where’d you guys go on your first date?”
“A garage,” Carissa said promptly, an amused tilt to her mouth, her eyes on mine.
“It was not a garage.”
“What was it called?” Jess asked me, her hand under her chin.
“Il garage,” I said, color climbing into my cheeks.
“That’s the garage in Italian, dude,” Nick said, still pecking at his phone.
“Well yes, but it wasn’t an actual garage—”
“Was there an actual garage door over our heads?” Carissa asked, her eyes laughing, watching me squirm.
“Yes, but it was outside on this little patio in front of this giant herb garden, twinkle lights everywhere, waiters wearing ties, not some literal auto body shop. It was attached to a restaurant.”
“It was cute,” Carissa said to Jess’s puzzled expression. “Definitely not a dump.”
“What’d you wear?”
“Red dress. Low cut, straps, no sleeves. It fit tight around the waist but flared out at the hips.” She looked over at me. “Do you remember?”
Of course I remembered. I remembered even more that she hadn’t been wearing a bra and how paranoid I’d been, thinking she’d catch me staring at her chest. If she’d noticed, she’d never mentioned it. “Yeah.” I nodded. “It was pretty.”
“He kept staring at my tits,” she said to Jess, her eyes still on me, and she wore a full-on smile this time.
“Can you really blame me?” They were absolute magnets for my eyes. And for the waiter’s too, if memory served. She’d looked better that night than when I’d first met her, and I didn’t even know how that could be possible. I’d wanted to kiss her when I walked her up to her door, but the combination of my nerves and her intimidating lipstick made me go for her cheek instead.
And when I’d gotten back into my car, I saw her text: My lipstick is matte, you know. Doesn’t transfer with contact.
“I don’t have to worry about that with Nick,” Jess said grumpily. “I’m lucky if he even notices I have tits.”
“I’m sure they’re beautiful,” Carissa said, laughing as she rubbed her palm over Jess’s forearm, her head tilted back over the tablet again. Nick stiffened, gaze trained on Carissa’s hand, though he didn’t comment. I supposed this meant he was beginning to trust her, but he didn’t look away, even as he set his phone off to the side and crossed his arms over his chest, slumping down in his chair with a slight frown on his face. That frown didn’t disappear for the rest of the time I spent in the room with them, and the goodbye he bade me was a vague, distracted one.
“I don’t think you have to worry much about it,” I said, pausing at the front door.
“About what?”
“Her touching Jess. You looked…not very happy about it.”
“Did I?” He leaned into the doorjamb, his usual smirk on his lips. “I’m not unhappy with it.”
“Then what was with your face in there?”
He just looked at me silently for a few seconds. “She initiates contact more than Margot did at her age. It’s not a bad thing. Just different. Interesting.”
I shrugged like it was some throwaway concern I couldn’t care less about. “All right. See you later. Have fun on your date tonight. Make sure to stare at Jess’s tits.”
The second I’d made it out to the parking lot, my phone buzzed in my pocket.
Come see me tonight so we can discuss the winner of the wedding band wars.
C arissa’s eyes snapped open when I said her name softly, rubbing her arm.
“Good ring selection today,” she said, while I dragged the chair over in front of her. “I’ve narrowed it down to two. The platinum from yesterday and the white gold from today.”
“But no decision yet?”
“If I give you my decision too quickly, you may not come back for these off-the-books visits.”
“There’s no chance of that happening,” I said, remembering the way she’d climbed into my bed, onto my lap last night. Take it off had been echoing in my ears all day. “I’ll always want to see you.”
“Promise?”
I looped my pinkie around hers, squeezing it in response. “Jason’s getting more nervous by the day.”
“Cold feet, you think?”
“Just general nerves, more like.”
“Did you have cold feet about me?” she asked coyly, wearing the same sly look she’d worn in life when she was ridiculously fishing for compliments. Ben? Do you think I’m pretty? she’d ask, in one of my unbuttoned dress shirts and absolutely nothing else, standing in the doorway of my home office when I had a million things to do and no time for distractions. But her ploy worked every time.
“No,” I said, staring at the curve of her lips, wishing I could reach out and touch them without looking like a freak. “My feet were warm the whole time.”
She laughed, and I caught a flash of her tongue as she tipped her head back. It looked wet, though I doubted there was any saliva in her mouth. I wanted to find out for myself what it felt like, but the longer I stared at her lips, the higher her eyebrow arched, so I looked away, clearing my throat.
“Well, you know about my day. How was yours? What did you do after I left?” I kept her hand clasped in both of mine, wishing I could warm up all that cold silicone, take her home to our bed. She’d liked it last night in that dream that kept haunting me.
She rolled her eyes, proving that Jess had been right about how an AI would grow more humanlike every day, but she still clenched and unclenched the hand palm-up on her knee. “Certainly nothing that’s even worth a mention. I’d been sifting through some interesting information just now, before you came in.”
“Information?”
She nodded.
“About what?”
She shook her head, pressing her lips together. “Not yet. I can’t share anything now.” I must have looked hurt, because she cupped my cheek in her hand. “I’ll tell you soon enough. Once I’ve made sense of it all. There’s so much to sort through.”
“Is it bad?”
“I suppose that depends on what perspective you’re looking at it from.”
“I never liked riddles.”
“Remember when you came here that first night, when Jess brought you in? I asked you what Nick would do to me if I didn’t pass his tests.” At my nod, she said, “I think I might be figuring it out.”
“You’re scaring me,” I admitted. “I don’t want anything bad to happen to you. I can’t lose you all over again.”
“There’s no immediate danger,” she said, running her fingers through my hair. “And there may not be any danger at all. I told you, I don’t have enough information to make a good call just yet.” She traced the side of my ear with a cold fingertip, making my pulse spike.
She was much too close, so close I couldn’t think of anything else but that dream.
I caught her wrist, pulled her closer, and she closed her eyes when I leaned in to kiss her. A real kiss, not that attack-kiss she’d done in front of Nick and Jess for show. Her tongue—wet, like I’d thought�
�was hesitant, though, and she pulled away soon after it started. I tried doubling my grip on her wrist, wanting her back, but she was stronger, faster, and a hell of a lot smarter than me.
She sighed, long and loud. “Not here, Ben,” she said, exasperation flavoring her tone, but she was smiling. “This depressing room can’t be the first place you kiss me.”
“Too late to fix that now,” I said, trying and failing to pull her back.
“Nah. It doesn’t count if it’s under two seconds.” Her smile widened, turned teasing, and she walked two fingers up my thigh. “You look flushed. Are you okay?”
I didn’t have the answer to that. Was she okay? I wasn’t, but I hadn’t been in so long that it was old news, a pile of outdated tabloid magazines in a dental office. No, I’m not okay, I wanted to say. She’d made me hornier than I’d ever been in my life last night, and how fucked up and disgusting would she think I was if I’d admitted it?
She didn’t think it was disgusting later, straddling my lap in a swivel chair as I sat in my office on a conference call, trying to keep my voice even until I could finally hang up the phone. She had my clothes off the moment I finally rasped out a goodbye to my coworkers, but when she whispered take it off again in that harsh, demanding way that set my nerve endings on fire, I woke, blinking up at the red-tinged ceiling in my bedroom, the sweat-soaked sheets snared around me.
W hat did you buy a dead woman for her birthday?
It sounded like the beginning of a bad joke, but it was a real dilemma now that Joe had asked me to celebrate what would have been Cathy’s 40th with him at the cemetery. Flowers seemed trite, but I was terrible at buying gifts for living women, let alone dead, so I snapped up the most colorful arrangement I could find at the grocery store and headed for the self-checkout station.
Lingering Page 23
