Chapter 63

CHAPTER SIXTY-THREE

LAKE

27 bobas left until we both die …

The morning sunshine is hot on my face, and I grumble as I try to bury myself in the pillows. I have a special method for blocking the skylight above my bed. Two metal rings on either side of the window, and a curtain that I can hook to both sides with a metal pole. Joe designed the whole thing.

But I forgot.

I forgot because … Tam’s hand curled around the headboard, his naked body rocking into mine, hips undulating, lips parted. Oh, yes. Having sex with Tam here has changed things for me. Seeing him with my family, in this house, in my bed? Game-changer.

I force my sleep-heavy lids open and lift my left wrist up for inspection.

Damn.

I really thought … and last night, when we were making love, I was convinced that I was finally going to topple off that cliff. But, like with my orgasms, I’m having trouble letting go enough to tip over that edge. The iceberg in my heart is melting, and I’m happy, and I think Tam is … well, he’s just wonderful.

He’s wonderful.

He’s also kissing the back of my neck and making me shiver.

“Good morning, Kayak,” he says, and I snort. “I love how tangled your hair gets at night, after we’ve fucked, and you’ve spent hours rolling around in your sleep.”

I feel a bit of heat suffuse my cheeks as I turn over to look at him.

Holy crap.

Tam is propped up on one elbow, head resting in his hand. That strawberry hair is bed-mussed and fuck-tossed, and he has as many hickeys on his neck as I did on mine. Also … also … a bite mark on his chest, right next to his nipple. My blankets—including the quilt that GG Louise made—are gathered around his waist. One strong leg has escaped and is now draped over my own.

The way the sun hits Tam’s face is miraculous, painting his eyes in emerald green with flecks of spring and hints of fall, burnishing that pop star mouth with gold, emphasizing the little red line on his cheek from sleeping on a pillow crease. His skin is like milk, and his attention is rapt friction. I can feel that gaze on me like a spotlight, as if I’m the one performing onstage for millions of adoring fans.

Only … I can get all of what Tam gets out of his fame from him alone.

“Hi.” I reach up a hand and rest it against his cheek, and he closes his eyes, like he’s beyond happy for me to touch him. “It’s two in the afternoon. Have you ever slept this late before?”

“Only after going to bed at nine or ten in the morning,” he admits, eyes still closed. It’s a nice day today. I can feel the breeze through the open skylight, tendrils of hair drifting across both my forehead and his. I sit up and kiss him, pulling away before we get lost in one another’s bodies.

We’ve been having plenty of sex, but that isn’t breaking the curse. Might have to get that conversation card deck out of the car and go at it again.

I yawn and stretch my arms over my head, and Tam grabs me from behind. He surprises me by dragging me back into bed and climbing on top of me.

An hour later, we finally drag our pajama-clad asses out of the room.

If death is imminent, this is how I want to spend my last days. Sleep late. Have sex. Eat toast. Ask awkward questions from the conversation deck that … my mom has in her hands?

“Excuse me,” I murmur as Tam and I come down the stairs to find my mom, grandma, and aunts in the kitchen, giggling. “What are you doing with that?”

“Do you prefer your partner to go down on you? Or do you want to go down on your partner?” my mom reads, just a bit of a Southern accent in her words. “Hell, Lake. This is not the way to break the curse.” She tosses the card aside and grabs another. “Name three animals off the top of your head that you just don’t like—no rhyme or reason required.” Mom looks up and cocks a brow.

“Hippopotami, storks, and diving bell spiders!” I don’t know why I’m shouting. I’m sleepy and sexed-up, and … why are my female relatives reading about oral sex in the kitchen? That’s weird. Tam is just staring at me, and when I look his way, he rubs the back of his neck.

“Black mambas, funnel web spiders, and chickens.” I laugh at that, and he grins back at me. “Also … what the hell is a diving bell spider?”

“Awful, nasty things,” my grandmother says with a sigh, arranging fresh flowers into a vase. “They make webs underwater.” She fluffs the blossoms as I lead Tam over to the stools at the kitchen island. “If any of y’all plan on reading those cards aloud, then I’m leaving.”

“Oh, Mama. It’s modern-day,” my mom calls out, but Gram is already fleeing outside to water Joe and put some fertilizer around his trunk. She’s very particular about his care. I can hear her grumbling before the screen door slams and cuts off some of the sound. “Breakfast?” Mom asks, looking back at us while my aunts stand behind her and sip coffee. Well, Aunt Lisa probably has coffee. Aunt Daphne (Maria’s mom) is on a health kick and only drinks water. Aunt Mandy prefers chamomile tea at any time of the day, and she’s gazing at Tam with #TambourineFangirl energy.

Aunt Lisa notices and gives me an apologetic look.

“Sorry, my baby sister’s a little starstruck.” Aunt Lisa grabs Mandy by the ear and forces her out the back door with Daphne at her heels, leaving Tam and me alone with Mom.

“I’d love some breakfast,” Tam replies politely, acting as if my aunt (sixteen years his senior) wasn’t gazing at him like he was her Match. I chuckle as my mom zones in on my new boyfriend.

Having Tam at my parents’ house is a dream. He fits in well here, even if my mom hasn’t forgiven him for, um, the blow job incident. She’s staring at him over a piece of toast—that she won’t let him butter because she wants to do it.

She tosses the toast onto his plate and Tam offers up his most beautiful, boyish smile. It works, too, because my mom is a sucker and she’s used to caving into Joules.

“Oh, it’s a good thing we didn’t have more boys in this family. I’m such a sucker. They would’ve been the death of me.”

“You’re saying that Lake is a blessing then?” Tam asks cheekily, and my mom’s mouth twitches like she wants to smile. Joules walks up, miming a blow job with his tongue pressing against the inside of his cheek.

“You son of a bitch!” I throw my own toast at him, and the butter sticks to his arm.

“How fucking old are you? I’m practically thirty, and I’m too old for this crap.” And then Joules flicks the toast right back at me, and it sticks to my thigh. He grins, and I narrow my eyes on him. “Mom, can Kaycee and I have some toast? Only half a slice for her, and it has to be that wheat-nut shit.”

“Of course, sweetheart,” my mom says, and I give Joules a horrified look.

“Like you said, you’re nearly thirty. We’re home now. You told me you were getting your apartment back, right?” I’m pouting. I cannot stand being lied to. The toast I could forgive, but not the lies.

“You’re getting your apartment back?” my mom asks excitedly, but Joules just laughs.

“I, uh, that didn’t work out like I thought it would.” Joules very quickly makes a beeline for the back door, letting the screen shut behind him. So that was a lie, too? A lie for him to come back home. Because Kaycee is not his Match. If Kaycee were his Match, he wouldn’t have needed to be in the Fayetteville area.

His … his Match is someone local.

If his Match is someone local, then—

I throw the toast down, and I sprint for the back door. A yawning Kaycee acts like she might follow me out, but I slam the back door hard behind me and hope that nobody follows. In my bare feet, I stomp right up to my brother as he stands before Joe’s tree, and I’m shaking so badly that I can barely get the words out. Luckily, Grandma is tinkering in the shed with her earbuds in. She won’t be able to hear us.

“How. Much. Time.” This is not a question. If he doesn’t tell me right here and now, I’m going to tell the whole family that he’s matched. “Joules Frost—”

“Ten months,” he says softly, closing his eyes.

I just stand there.

Ten months? Is that a lie, too?

“When did you meet her?” I demand, crossing my arms and wiggling my toes. The ground is a little wet from the hose, but it feels nice, all of that moist dirt under my feet. Joe’s dirt. Joe. I wiggle my toes some more.

“When you were sick and we came home,” Joules says, looking over at me, his face both sad and serious. “You’re too smart for your own good, you know that?”

“You’re not smart enough. Stop lying to me. If there is anything else you need to tell me, I want to hear it now. Whatever else you’re keeping from me, I will never forgive you.”

Joules nods at me and turns back to the tree again.

“Her name is Allison, and she’s a married mother of three who spends half her week at church.”

There’s dead silence between us, the sound of insects rising to a crescendo. It’ll stay warm around here until the calendar flips over to October. One day, it’ll still feel like summer. The next? Cold and quiet.

“Joules, do you have a plan? How the hell do you pull something like that off?” I’m panicking a little. He can tell from the sound of my voice, I’m sure.

“Why are you worrying about me when you have less than a month left? Explain that to me, Canoe. Because this is the entire fucking reason I didn’t tell you in the first place.” Joules scowls at me which, you know, I understand. He’s right. If I don’t break my own curse, I won’t be able to help him with his. “That’s why Kaycee is here. She’s helping me break the curse.” Joules shrugs, like it’s no big thing for his new pop star girlfriend to come home so that she can facilitate his romance with a married woman—against his will, no less. “If you want to help me, too, then break your own damn curse.”

When he goes to flick me in the forehead, I dodge him. Something still feels wrong here. Whatever it is though, I know that my brother is right.

“Sorry,” I say finally, sighing so heavily that it feels like all the tension is leaving my body. I end up flopping onto the ground, getting my pajama shorts dirty. Joules sits down beside me, and we both just stare at Joe. “I think I … I’m letting myself get fixated on your curse because I don’t know how to break my own. I’m looking for all of these solutions and reasons, but really, it all comes down to how I feel about Tam.”

The screen door opens with a squeak, and I glance back to see Tam, shoulder propped against the doorjamb. He waves at me with a piece of toast, and I give a little laugh into my hand. Probably blushing, too.

“Then for the time being, stay with Tam and don’t worry about me.”

When I look back at Joules, he puts his hands on either side of my face, presses a kiss to my forehead, and then stands up. He trades places with Tam who sits down in the grass and offers me up the toast. I decline and he eats it himself.

I’d say it was weird to see him sitting in wet grass like it’s nothing, but he did rescue a spider so … snap judgements should never be made. Tam might be a glittery onstage presence, but there’s something unhurried, confident, and natural about him that I like.

“Joules told me that he has nine months left, but he’s lying.” I sigh and scoot a little closer to Tam. He sweeps an arm around my waist and pulls me into his lap, his breath ruffling up my hair. When he lifts the toast to my mouth, I take a small bite. “But I told him I’d let it go until we broke our own curse.”

“Smart.” Tam waits for me to finish the bite of toast, and then offers it to me again. I take it in my hands, and we spend the day relaxing outside by the tree. In the sun. Flowers. Wind. Dirt. Kisses. Lemonade.

Sometimes, to move forward, you have to learn to stand still.