I wake up at a sudden, sharp sound, and rub my eyes. It was a door slamming.
I think nothing of it, roll over and find Duncan’s body next to mine. He’s sleeping flat on his back, one arm behind his head, and his eyeballs are twitching rapidly. He must be in a dream.
A smile spreads my lips. He even looks good when he sleeps, despite having messy bed hair.
It’s odd how utterly still he is when he sleeps. I’m a mover in the night. I always wake up with the sheets tangled in between my legs, half the duvet on the floor, my pillow somehow vertical.
But he looks like he just crawled into bed, then turned to stone.
I sidle up to him, rest my head on his chest, and he stirs, pulled from his dream, and brings his arm down over me, holds me against him.
The blinking digital clock by the bedside reads five-forty-five, and internally I groan, wondering why the hell someone was slamming the door so—
Shit! Dad’s back!
I sit up straight like I’ve just poked my finger in an outlet, and rub Duncan awake.
“Duncan!” I hiss, covering my mouth as I talk. “Duncan.”
He rouses, blinks, sits up and rubs his eyes.
“Duncan, you have to go.”
His eyes go to me, then the clock, and he gets out of bed, his naked body looking tighter in the morning.
“Wait, why?”
“Dad’s home!” I say.
I don’t know why, but I start grinning like an idiot. This is insane! My heart is pounding just thinking about the possibility of Dad knocking at my door, of him finding Duncan and me in bed together.
It’s not even funny, but it’s making me laugh.
I catch a glint in his eye, and a smirk pulls his mouth to the side. He presses his ear to the door, then looks at me.
“He’s coming up.”
“Oh shit!” I say, quickly climbing out of bed and rummaging for my pajamas.
I feel a hand on my hips, turn around and see Duncan. He runs his hand over my ass, dips lower, and I slap it away.
“Stop!”
I look down from his face, see that he’s already got a boner. Jesus!
“You have to go,” I say, retreating quickly from him, pouring myself a glass of water and gulping from it. I offer it to him afterward, and he takes a sip.
“Where? I don’t have any clothes.”
I spin around frantically, then my eyes settle on the window. I open it, squint down. It’s not a long drop to the roof of the garage.
I look at him, flash my eyebrows.
Duncan laughs, then pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs. “Wow.”
“Go,” I urge, unable to stop a laugh from spilling out of my mouth. God, I can’t believe he’s about to jump out of my window naked.
He climbs up into the window frame. It’s a tight fit, but he squeezes through.
“See you later,” I say to him.
He blows me a kiss, and hops out. I hear him land before I reach the window, see him looking back up at me, wincing, rubbing the sole of his foot.
“You okay?”
“Landed on a fucking thumbtack!” he whispers.
I watch as he pulls the metal from the sole of his foot, chucks it away.
“You been throwing stuff out your window, Dee?”
I widen my eyes guiltily, nod at him. “Maybe! Hold on.” I race around the bed, pick up his towel, and chuck it out the window at him. It wraps itself around his head.
I shut the window, pull across the drapes, and then jump back in bed just in time. Dad swings my door open without knocking.
“Dad!” I cry, pulling the covers around me. “You need to knock.”
He leans in the doorway, looks around. “Everything is fine. Everything is sorted.”
I blink, have no idea what he’s talking about.
“With the other families!” he says grumpily. “After last night. I smoothed everything out. Just thought you’d like to know.”
“Uh, okay.”
“Mm,” he hums, peering around my room. “It’s been a long time since I’ve been in here.”
I pull my blanket up higher around my neck, say to him, “Dad, I’m not ready yet.”
He looks at me for a moment, then nods. “Of course, Deidre. You get up now, let’s have breakfast together.”
I wince. “Now? It’s so early.”
“Yes. Come on, get ready.”
He disappears out of my doorway, and I hear him bump into Duncan in the hall.
They have a small chat, but only murmurs make it through the door. Dad’s footsteps going downstairs reach my ears, and then there’s a knock at the door.
I open it, and Duncan is standing there, grinning at me, a toothbrush in his mouth, towel wrapped around his waist.
“It’s pretty cold out,” he says, his voice a toothpaste slur.
“That was close,” I tell him. I’m shaking a little, but it was kind of… fun, in a stupid, teenage way.
The condom!
It’s the only thing in my trash can. Fuck, what if Dad had seen it?!
“You need to take the condom,” I tell him. “I can’t have it in here. Dad would go insane if he found it somehow.”
Duncan pauses mid-movement, looks at me with a wrinkled nose.
“What, it’s all your stuff, anyway!”
He shrugs, reaches into the can and pulls it out. And then he comes to me, pulls out his toothbrush and presses his nose against my ear. He smells me, and I feel the cool tip of his nose on my lobe.
“Go on, go!” I urge, pushing him in the butt. He swaggers out of the room, but at the last moment turns and looks at me.
God, he looks so fucking hot in just a towel.
“Go,” I say, laughing. “Come on, Dad might come back.”
He disappears down the corridor, into the bathroom, and I just shake my head, still my racing heart, and slow my breathing.
Too close.
Way too fucking close.