Page 137 of So This Is War
“Oh yeah, love eating a good pussy.”
Dear God in heaven.
I squeeze my legs together as I clear my throat. “Well, that’s new information.”
“One of my favorite things to eat,” he continues. “If it was on the menu, I would have ordered it.” Then he looks at me with those devilish eyes and says, “Maybe for dessert.” He winks, and I quickly rise from the table. His eyes track my jerky movements.
“I, uh, I need to make a phone call.” Before he can respond, I move toward the back corner of the restaurant, where I hide away from Levi and pull out my phone. Quickly, I dial up Sandie and hope she answers.
On the third ring, she does.
“Hey, how’s it going?” she asks.
“Not good,” I hiss into the phone.
“Uh, okay, what’s going on?”
“He’s different,” I say.
“I assume we’re talking about Levi. How is he different?”
I look past the corner, over at our table where he’s sitting casually, staring right at me.
I squeak out a sound before I move out of sight again. “He’s . . . he’s sexually charged,” I answer.
“Describe how he’s sexually charged.”
“Well, besides the fact that his entire demeanor went from she’s off limits to I’m pushing her hair behind her ear now, he’s walking around in a towel, all wet from the shower, telling me that I’m his type when there’s a woman more suited to him serving him drinks on the airplane, and now he just offered up my vagina for dessert.”
“He really said that? That he was going to eat you for dessert?” she asks, shocked.
“Well, not blatantly, but in a roundabout way, yes. And then there’s just little things, like, oh, he gave me a massage! And he touches me and twirls my hair. I feel like he’s flipped the switch, and he’s the one doing erotic torture, not me.”
She’s silent for a second and then says, “Maybe he is.”
“Huh?”
She gasps. “Maybe . . . maybe he knows you know.”
“What are you talking about?” I ask as I look past the corner again. This time, Levi twiddles his fingers at me in a wave.
I quickly hide again, squeezing my eyes shut.
“Maybe he knows that you know about the agreement he has with your dad.”
I pause and think about it. Consider his transformation. He was skittish, adamant about keeping things platonic and then, all of a sudden, he switched his behavior. A complete one-eighty.
I mean, hell, we’re sharing a hotel room in case he needs me in the middle of the night to do God knows what.
It wouldn’t be too hard to get me a hotel room. I could easily tend to his every need from another room. And since I’ve been here, I really haven’t done anything.
So maybe . . .
Maybe Sandie is right.
“You really think he knows?” I ask.
“No idea. It’s a hunch, though. Did you give him any indication that you know?”
