Glitter on the Web (28 page)

He laughed. “It probably wouldn’t be a big deal, but I just can’t risk the media getting a photo of her. It would fuck up her whole life. She’s got anonymity now. No one needs to go through puberty under the spotlight.”

I nodded. I remembered how hard it was, fighting acne, feeling awkward, like I would never fit in. I couldn’t imagine that with the likes of these gleeful vultures, picking apart every new “flaw,” especially in comparison to such a flawless sibling.

“You can use the bathroom first,” he said as we passed the door. “I want to see if anything leaked on social media.”

I nodded and headed into the bathroom, where I reveled under the warm spray of his multi-head shower for about fifteen blissful moments. When I got out, I changed into my flannel jammies. It might have been late in the year to wear them, but I wanted as much of a barrier I could muster to keep Eli on his best behavior.

As it turned out, I didn’t need to worry about it. He was in a piss poor mood the minute I walked into the bedroom. He’d already changed into his pajamas (the bottoms at least,) and was lying on top of the covers, scrolling through webpages via his phone, with angry swipes of his finger.

“See? This is why we can’t go outside.” He thrust the phone at me. The browser was opened to Miles O’Rourke’s gossip page, which featured a photo of us from our early shopping excursion where we bought Gene.

IS THE STORK CIRCLING YOUR FAVORITE POP STAR?

Sources tell me that Eli Blake and his Big Girl girlfriend, Carly Reynolds, were spotted in Santa Monica this afternoon, browsing the toy section of all things. Eli is hitting near legendary status with this particular relationship (we’ve made it to four months, you guys!) It makes me wonder if maybe they’re ready to take the next step. But don’t bother looking for that baby bump, darlings. With this baby mama, it’ll take
months
for us to tell.

I sat on the bed with a flop.

“Look at how hateful they are to you,” he grumbled. “Imagine how they’d be with a kid. She gets enough of that shit at home.”

That caught my attention. “What’s going on at home?”

He shrugged before he shot off the bed. “Just… my mother can be difficult. She means well,” he corrected, mostly because it was his mother and he felt like he had to. “But when you don’t meet her expectations, you know it.”

It explained why both Eli and Gabby felt the driving urge to excel, or why good was never good enough. He taught himself how to play music and made a career for himself, even without the college education his mother probably championed. Gabby was an honor roll student with her eye on an Ivy League education already, sacrificing her childhood for accelerated classes that would ensure her path.

I knew in an instant their childhoods had been adult training ground, rather than a playground.

“It breaks my heart to tell Gabby no,” he confessed softly. “But I have to protect her.”

I nodded. I understood.

His eyes met mine. “Sorry that fucker wrote such awful things about you.”

I shrugged. “It’s actually quite benign compared to other things he’s written. He’s still Team Rhonda you know.”

Eli offered a contemptuous chortle. “That’s because she gets him into all the A-list parties. She figured if you can’t fight gossip, at least you can make it work for you.”

That sparked a kernel of an idea, but all I said was, “You can’t fix it tonight. Might as well get some sleep. We have another big day tomorrow.”

He nodded before turning towards the bathroom. Just before he entered, he turned back to me. “Thanks for being so great to Gabby.”

“She makes it easy,” I smiled. He returned it and then disappeared into the bathroom. I decided to use that time to grab some water from the fridge. The minute I entered the hallway, I heard the unmistakable sounds of vomiting coming from the upstairs bathroom. I quickly scaled the stairs to find Gabby, hunched over the toilet.

“Are you okay?” I asked, though it seemed a stupid question to ask. Clearly she wasn’t.

She nodded. “I guess I ate too much,” she said as she used a washcloth to bathe her face.

I nodded as I moistened another, fresher one with cold water. “I told Eli chili dogs, pizza and cake was a bad combination.”

She offered a weak smile as she took the new washcloth. “I think it was the dancing.”

I laughed. She had gone for broke to win, working up quite the sweat. “Probably,” I agreed.

She flushed the toilet and I helped her to her feet, and then assisted her to her bedroom. “Thanks,” she said after I got her tucked back into bed, next to Gene.

“My pleasure,” I smiled. “Although I don’t like to see you sick.”

She shrugged. “I feel better now. I probably just overdid it.”

I nodded. “Been there.”

Before I left I planted another kiss on her forehead, mostly to check for a fever. When I had turned into my mother, I had no idea. Gabby was cool, if clammy. Satisfied that she would be okay, I headed back downstairs to Eli’s bedroom. He was already in bed by the time I got there. He watched me approach.

“I thought maybe you’d gone back to your room,” he said softly.

I shook my head. “I went for some water,” I said, which made me remember that in the midst of everything I had forgotten to grab it. “I heard Gabby getting sick upstairs.”

He sat up like a shot. “Is she okay?” he asked, already flinging the blankets aside.

“She’s fine,” I assured. “She’s back in bed. Just a case of too much junk food and too much dancing.”

He slumped against the pillows. “Thank God.” He watched me climb into bed and settle into my old spot. “Better be careful who sees you playing mommy. That will really get Miles’s tongue wagging.”

I chuckled as I turned to face away from him. “You’d have to do the thing that makes babies. And I ain’t,” I added, fluffing my pillow to hug it tight. It was the last remaining remnant of my fort, but it was steadfast.

A moment passed before Eli said softly, “You could.” I didn’t reply, so he added, “The offer is still on the table, Carly.”

I didn’t turn around. “Is it still going to cost me $500,000?”

Another pause. “Maybe $250,000.”

I laughed. So did he.

“Goodnight, Ma,” he said as he scooted under the covers.

“Goodnight, Pa,” I replied and turned out the light.

CHAPTER
SEVENTEEN

The next day followed pretty much the same pattern, though Eli was careful not to overload Gabby on junk food. Instead we prepared dinner together, with Gabby chopping fresh veggies for our seafood stir fry.

It was our way of celebrating the ocean without, you know, actually going to it.

Gabby joined Eli for his workout, and thanks to their insistence, so did I. He operated as our own personal trainer, and he was far more patient and encouraging than I would have ever thought he might be. We watched the Pacific sprawl before us, courtesy of the floor to ceiling windows. Eli kept it fun, pretending we were running or riding on the beach, when we were merely using the treadmill or stationary bikes. If he adopted a more militant attitude, it was done in jest, mostly to make us laugh.

“I don’t know but I’ve been told!” he started, and we repeated it. “Paparazzi pics will get me sold!” We laughed, and dutifully played along. “I don’t know but it’s been said! I do amazing things in bed!”

I gaped at him so he explained, “You know. Sleep. Dream. Jump on mattresses. That kind of thing.” He winked at me and Gabby giggled.

“You think I’m too young to get your silly sex jokes, Eli, but I’m not,” she told him.

“Yeah, you are,” he corrected. “And you always will be.”

“But Carly’s not,” Gabby encouraged shamelessly.

He smirked at me, but I didn’t find it nearly as aggravating as before. “No. She’s a big girl.”

I wanted to hate him for saying it, but it didn’t quite sound like an insult anymore. “Just sound off, Romeo,” I said.

“Sound off, 1,2,” he called and we helped him fill in the rest.

That night was filled with more TV, binging on shows that her parents never let her watch because they thought she was too young. I myself might have been a little more wary if it wasn’t for her advanced maturity, due mostly to the fact that she was always around folks so much older than her, including her two half-siblings, Eli, on her mom’s side, and her half-sister Beth, on her dad’s. I drew the line at R-rated stuff, but she rolled with the punches on everything else.

These were the things you could do with an older sibling. I knew because I had a much older sister myself, who gave me my first beer when I was fourteen.

As dysfunctional as my family had been, I probably shouldn’t have consulted on Gabby.

The days fell into a similar pattern. We lived just like a normal family would. We did kid things with her, and then retired to the bedroom every night for sexless sleep, simply because we were fucking exhausted. We made it as fun as we could for her, including a campout in the media room that first weekend. We made s’mores in his long fireplace that shown with all the crystals he used in lieu of wood. We had to share a tent, since there wasn’t really enough room to spread out two. Eli and I shared one large sleeping bag, and she had her own. That night we played their “I love you” game forever.

“I love you.”

“I love you, too.”

“I love you three!”

“I love you four!”

On and on it went until someone said, “I love you more,” when the game would officially end. By then it didn’t matter who said what to whom. It just felt so good to be a part of that endless circle. It felt like what family should feel like.

It felt like what love should feel like.

Eli cuddled me from behind, spooning me in the sleeping bag, which kept us much, much closer than his king-sized bed. I felt his breath through my hair, against my scalp. The way he kept rhythmically brushing his thumb against my arm, I knew he was wide awake.

Not-so-little Eli made that pretty plain as well.

I found myself paralyzed as I lay there. My heart raced. My breath quickened. Again, it wasn’t entirely unpleasant. I blamed my six-month dry streak on my sinking standards. I was glad that Gabby was in a nearby sleeping bag, because if he dared kiss that one spot on my neck, right below my ear (you know the one,) I would have been completely defenseless.

I was so twitterpated that I couldn’t fall asleep, even after his thumb finally fell still and I could hear his soft snores behind me. I closed my eyes and tried to think of puppies or kittens or nuns or grandmas, but his hard body had imprinted itself on me. Every time I tried to think about anything else, visions of turning into his heated embrace dominated my thoughts and rendered me even more confused than before.

I was awake when Gabby stirred. She unzipped her sleeping bag as slowly as she could, to mask the sound. I kept my eyes mostly shut as I watched her slip from the bag and make a similar stealthy escape from the tent.

Eli stirred, pulling me into an even tighter embrace that turned me onto my back. His arm lay across my middle, his face nuzzled in my neck as he draped one leg across mine. If I turned towards him even slightly, we would have been nose to nose, chest to chest, other body parts to other body parts. I shivered in spite of myself.

What the hell was the matter with me? It had only taken four months for me to throw all my convictions right out of the window. If he kissed me, I would have been toast and I knew it. It didn’t help that I could hear the shower running upstairs, which would have given us a ten-minute window to do unspeakable things, things I would have surely regretted. Things like kissing those full, pouty lips, or grabbing that tight, round ass…

I shook my head to free myself of such thoughts. Eli stirred again, this time his eyes opening. “Cool. I thought I was dreaming.”

It was all he said before he mumbled something about unicorns in tap shoes, which indicated, yes, he had in fact been dreaming. He probably never even fully awakened. I tried not to think about it as I concentrated on the sound of running water upstairs. Something— anything— to get me out of that tight space pressed so close against Eli’s hard body.

But then my brow furrowed. Why was Gabby taking a shower at midnight?

Finally she came back down, smelling of floral shampoo and body wash. After that I was finally able to drop off into somewhat peaceful slumber.

I woke gently the next day, with the sensation of someone caressing me softly against my side. My eyes fluttered open and I realized that Eli was staring down into my face, those incredible blue eyes concentrating on my mouth.

My own eyes flew open. “Was I snoring?” I asked at once, though I wasn’t sure why.

“No,” he said softly.

“Then… what?” I wanted to know.

“Then… this,” he said as his head bent towards mine. His lips were on my mouth before I knew it. I indulged the kiss until he tried to deepen it. Then I pulled away. “Eli, no. Gabby.”

“She’s taking a shower,” he murmured against my lips as he pulled me towards him.

“Another one?” I asked.

He pulled back. “What do you mean?”

I used the distraction to turn away from him, as far as one could turn while trapped in a zipped sleeping bag. “She took one last night. Around midnight.”

“You were still awake around midnight?” His hand continued to slide up my side. “What’s the matter, Sunshine? Couldn’t sleep lying next me?”

I tried to pull away but he held on tight. “Dream on.”

“I don’t have to dream. You’re here.” He captured my lips for another kiss. “Let’s make some dreams come true, Carly. We’ve got time.”

“For the discounted price of $250,000, I suppose.”

He rolled me onto my back, lying on top of me. “I tell you what. Let’s make it a cool $100,000. After what I’m going to do to you, I think you’ll find that’s a bargain.” Another kiss, only this time harder, more demanding. “I know you want me. I can feel it in how you tremble.”

I trembled even harder.
Dammit
. “If I want to pay for sex, I might as well call Caz.”