Page 13 of Pretty Psychos
"Here?" I asked, the knife still in my hands. I eased my fingers off the hilt, leaving the blade standing erect.
"He seems to like it," Leif said. He leaned over the corpse's face and said, "Is that a knife in your chest, or are you happy to see me?"
Woody and I both snorted in unison and exchanged a bemused glance.
"You just won the award for unhinged of the month," Woody told him.
"Excellent." Leif straightened up and pumped the air. "Good to see you're letting someone else have a chance to hold that title for a change."
Woody barked a laugh. "It's all yours."
"She'sall mine," Leif said, placing his hands on my hips and picking me up to sit on the open morgue drawer.
"Not all yours." Woody walked around to the other side, placed his hands on either side of my head, and turned my face to brush his lips over mine.
"Allours," Leif conceded. "And Forrest. Shame he had to work, but we'll manage." He turned my face back toward him and kissed me, his tongue sliding along the seam of my mouth.
Woody let his hands wander up the back of my sweater. Tugged my shirt out of the top of my jeans and over the skin of my back. When he reached the strap of my bra, he unhooked it and slid his hands around to cup my breasts.
I eyed the corpse. He faced the ceiling, but I couldn't shake the sensation he was watching us, listening to us. He would have killed us. Now he could be a witness to how alive we still were.
Leif tugged on the hem of my sweater, pulling it up.
I raised my arms so he could draw it all the way off and place it aside. My shirt and bra joined the pile on the floor.
"You're so beautiful," Leif whispered.
"Thank you," Woody whispered back.
Leif tipped his head back and laughed. "You're a pain in my ass, but I'm glad you're my brother."
Woody paused in kneading my breasts, his body stiffening behind me. "Yeah?"
"Yeah." Leif nodded.
"Cool," Woody said before he resumed palming my nipples. Under his breath he added, "Glad you're mine too."
I suspected he felt it more strongly than he was able, or willing to convey. I wouldn't tease him though. Feelings were hard. Talking about them was harder.
Apparently for Leif, the muted version of a deep and meaningful conversation was enough for him too. It was all he was getting out of Woody anyway.
"I also love the fact you're my girlfriend," Leif said, running the side of his finger down my jaw. "I love you."
We hadn't talked about an official relationship status yet, but I didn't mind the way it sounded. Girlfriend. Boyfriend.
"I like being your girlfriend," I said in a rush. "I love you too."
I glanced back at Woody.
"You're my girlfriend too," he said, without offering anything further.
Fair enough. We had work to do before we could talk about our feelings toward each other. He and I were complicated. He didn't seem to want me dead anymore, which was a bonus. But love? It was too soon for that.
"Can I ask you something?" I looked back toward Leif, deciding he'd be the one to answer honestly and easily.
"You can ask me anything," Leif said. "I'm the proverbial open book."
"He's like one of those flip books full of paint samples," Woody said.
