“No, you’re not.” She laughs. “You loved every second
of it. It doesn’t hurt, I didn’t feel a thing. I’m completely numb right now except for down there . . . it kinda stings.”
I grab the soap and bend down, washing her softly and noticing how sensitive her skin is. She relaxes enough to hold onto my shoulder, and when I finish, I kiss her lips.
“It’s going to be awkward at breakfast.”
“Maybe we should tell them,” I say with a straight face.
“Tell them what? That we’re fucking? Oh, that’s going to go down real nice.”
“Why not?” I joke lightly.
“Because they think we hate each other.”
“Okay,” I challenge her, “then we’ll pretend to hate each other. Besides, the best sex is hate sex, right?”
She smirks, throwing a towel my way. “Game on, Carrington.”
“Dad, you look like shit,” Emmy tells Chris while scarfing down her breakfast even though she complained her jaw hurt from all the deep-throating.
“I’m not twenty-one anymore.” He grimaces at the rare sun gracing us this morning. “God, I don’t remember how much your head could hurt after a big night.”
Abbi sits quiet at her chair, sporting oversized glasses and a hat.
“Mom? What about you?”
She raises her finger motioning Emmy to be quiet.
“I think Mom and Dad partied too hard,” Ash chuckles, unaffected by his beer consumption last night. “Where did you end up, Emmy?”
She shuffles nervously, crossing her legs. “I just got a room. I was exhausted from the day out plus I didn’t want to travel back this morning.”
“But isn’t your hotel like ten minutes away?” I put her on the spot, watching her expression change to annoyance.
“Ten minutes in distance is doubled in London traffic.”
“But there’s no traffic,” I point out. “Just seems odd that you’d stay in this hotel.”
“I think it’s odd you’re a jerk,” she argues back.
“Kids, keep it down please. My ears hurt,” Abbi complains.
We end the conversation and eat breakfast quietly, watching a re-run of the game on the screen. Seeing Ash score that final goal brings back joyous memories of that moment. He fucking nailed it.
“Has anyone seen Poppy?” Emmy asks. “We kind of went our separate ways at the pub and the last time I saw her, she was telling jokes at your table, Ash.”
Ash bows his head, studying his plate before his eyes look up at me. He fucked her. The look of guilt, I had seen it several times before. I could tell by the way he looked at me, warning me to not say anything out loud. Jesus, I knew his fight with Alessandra got to him but I didn’t expect this to happen.
“I think I saw her leave the pub,” he says blasé.
Emmy wipes her mouth with the napkin, leaning back on her chair. “I should probably call her. Just to make sure.”
“You know what?” Ash interrupts, slightly panicked. “She’s a big girl. I’m sure she got back okay.”
“When did you leave the pub?” Ash switches the subject onto me. Fucking dick.
“Don’t remember. Was exhausted so it was kinda a blur.”