Page 54 of Good at Being Alive
“Wait,” calls Caden. “We’re not ready.”
“Not everything is a performance,” I growl, ignoring him and trying very hard to ignore the fact that it’s her bare thighs resting on my forearms.
Bex raises her sunglasses, her eyes twinkling up at me. “I didn’t know you were capable of this much chivalry, babe.”
“It’s not chivalry,” I reply. “I’m just sick of wasting time.”
She smiles, wrapping her arms around my neck. “That reminds me of this poem. ‘Porphyria worshipped me; surprise / Made my heart swell, and still it grew / While I debated what to do /…all her hair / In one long yellow string I wound / Three times her little throat around.’ ”
I frown. “Is this more Byron? I can’t really masturbatehere.”
She laughs. “No, this time it’s Browning. Also British, obviously—you guys are a laugh a minute. It’s about a guy wholoves this girl Porphyria but doesn’t know what to do with the feeling, so he strangles her to death.”
I suppose, in this scenario, I’m the guy and she’s Porphyria. She’s joking, but inside me those words echo like a rung bell, one I hurry to silence.
“Maybe Porphyria was mouthy,” I say, setting her down abruptly. “You can’t assume he didn’t have his reasons.”
She dons her heels, grasping my arm for balance as a wave rocks the dock beneath us, before climbing aboard the waiting boat. I follow, poised to grab her the minute those heels become an issue.
We sit on the prow while the crew gets set to shoot, graced with yet another view straight out of a postcard. The sky is the same deep blue as the sea this morning, broken only by the cliffs and the old stone homes clustered along them. There are trees at the top—a vineyard, perhaps? An olive grove? I was never much of an explorer—I left that to Kieran—but I wouldn’t mind an extra day here with Bex to see what we missed.
If we could do so without the bloody cameras following us, thatis.
Paula and Caden approach with LJ behind them. “Are you both ready?” Paula asks.
We nod, and then Caden looks us over and tips his chin at Bex. “Take off the cover-up.” He’s smirking, as if it’s an inside joke, and I don’t know what the joke would be, but I dislike the idea of them holding a single unchaperoned conversation. “We need some eye candy if we’re not gonna have you miked.”
She sheds the robe and Jesus…Mindy must have bought a child’s bikini with as little as it covers. Bex stands in front of the whole crew with far too much skin on display: lean legs, flat stomach, surprisingly ample chest. And as brazen as she is, as apt as she is to talk about her vibrator with arelative stranger, there’s a flush to her cheeks, her arms wrapped around herself.
She knows these people. She helped Jon choose the diamond he purchased. She helped LJ’s kid write a history paper, and now she’s practically nude in front of them all. Her discomfort is palpable.
Caden wolf whistles. “Nowthat’swhat I’m talkin’ ’bout.”
I’ve had it. “Keep objectifying her and commenting on how she looks and I’ll make you regret you ever signed on to this show.” I turn. “Bex, put the cover-up back on.”
Paula looks between us. “Theo’s right—it’s inappropriate, Caden. But there’s nothing sexy about the two of you sitting there fully clothed.”
I could argue that the cover-up was hardly fully clothed, but instead I pull my polo overhead and hand it to Bex. “Put it on.”
“But—” Paula begins.
“There’s nothing sexier than a woman wearing a man’s shirt, Paula,” I say. What I’m actually thinking is that there’s nothing sexier thanBexin my shirt. “And it’s that or I walk off the fucking boat and take her with me.”
“Fine,” says Paula. “But Theo, you’re not in charge.”
Caden smirks.
“Neither are you, Caden,” she adds.
Bex swallows, pulling the shirt on and tying it off at the waist as I take my place beside her again. “Thank you,” she says quietly, and then she stretches out, lying face down on her lounge chair—which means her lovely ass is on display for Caden, for the crew, for the viewing public.
Forme.
I understand why Browning’s obsessed hero strangled Porphyria.
Dealing with a bunch of feelings you can’t act on is incredibly unpleasant.
Bex
