Play (Stage Dive 2)

“Anytime.” He winked. The liar.

“Your pumpkin needs to get ready,” said Lauren, ignoring our carrying on.

He looked me over and frowned. “Anne, Davie wants everyone dressed up. You can’t go in jeans and a T-shirt.”

“What are you talking about?”

“The party. Pumpkin, c’mon. We don’t have time to mess around.”

I shook my head, clueless. “Okay, you two. I have no idea what you’re talking about. Will someone please clue me in?”

“I told you about this.”

“Like you told me about you moving in here?”

“You didn’t tell her you were moving in with her?” asked Lauren, voice low and deadly.

“It was a surprise,” he said, recovering quickly. “A great big beautiful romantic gesture because I knew how much my Anne wanted me with her. She was just too shy to say so. Look at her! The woman practically worships the ground I walk on. And you heard her, demanding I sexually service her at all hours of the day. I can’t do that shit from afar, you know?”

Lauren raised a brow. “You told me she okayed it and had forgotten to give you a key, Mal.”

“Which was basically the truth.” He threw his hands out wide. “C’mon, ladies, we don’t have time for this.”

“Anne, I’m so sorry,” said Lauren.

“It’s fine. I’m happy he’s here.” And though a tempting idea, throwing something at him right now wouldn’t actually help. I took a deep breath and tried to keep calm. “Let’s get back to the ‘What the hell is going on here’ question. We’re meant to go to something formal tonight, I take it?”

“I told you.” He pulled out his phone, flicked through a few screens then shoved it in front of my face. “I’m a f**king great boyfriend, see?”

The message on screen read: AMEX ON TABLE. DRESS UP TONIGHT. My name, however, was nowhere in sight. Sure enough, over on the dining room table a black credit card sat waiting. I’d figured he’d just forgotten the thing. Him leaving it for me to go on a spending spree had never crossed my mind.

“It says you sent this to someone called Angie,” I said tightly. “Not me, Mal.”

“I did?” He glared at the phone. “Shit. Sorry.”

“Who’s Angie?” asked Lauren.

“Fucked if I know, but apparently she’s still looking for the card.” He laughed. “As if I’d give it to just anyone. Right, sorry. Anyway, Anne, can you throw something on? We gotta go.”

“Where?”

“Out.”

I scowled at him and didn’t move an inch. “Try again.”

“It’s a thing at David and Ev’s, a wedding anniversary party. Not that it’s even been a year, but whatever. Davie put lots of effort into it and asked us all to dress up. I’m sorry I screwed up telling you.” He fell to his knees, hands clasped to his chest. “Please? I’m sorry. I’m really f**king sorry. See, look, I’m on my knees, Anne. I’m groveling just for you.”

“Okay. I’ll go. Next time, please make sure I get the message.”

“I will. Thank you. Thank you so much,” he gushed. “You’re the best, pumpkin.”

There was only one really good dress in my wardrobe. A vintage black lace dress from the fifties. I’d bought it for my twenty-first birthday last year. I liked to believe I’d just stepped off the set of Mad Men in it. Luckily, my hair wasn’t looking too bad hanging loose. Some concealer, mascara, and lip gloss were about as primed as I could get in less than five minutes. One of these days I’d have time to go all out getting ready to meet the members of Stage Dive. Just not today.

Out in the living room, the pair of them bickered.

“I can’t believe you accidentally messaged some stray instead of your girlfriend,” said Lauren.

“Does my girlfriend seem bothered? No. So remind me again, what business is it of yours, hmm?”

“If you hurt her, Ev and I are going to take turns disemboweling you with a shovel. Be warned.”

A gruesome mental image, but I had to smile. It felt good to have friends watching my back.

Mal scoffed. “You can’t disembowel someone with a shovel.”

“Sure you can. It’s just messier.”

He grunted.

“Anyway, why are you in the spare bedroom? She sick of you already?”

“Gotta put my shit somewhere, Anne’s closet is packed. You girls, no idea about sharing.”

I shut the bedroom door and started shrugging out of my jeans, pulling off my shirt. Next came the panties. The neckline on the dress was wide and strapless bras always dug into my sides. There were few torture devices more horrible than a strapless bra. It wasn’t like my br**sts were big. The girl in the mirror looked good and happily, the dress still fit just fine. No way could I do up the zipper on the back however. I slid my feet into my super-high black heels saved for special occasions and headed on out, trying to hold my dress together.

“Lauren, would you mind–”

“That’s my job now.” Mal smiled and stepped behind me. “Cool dress. Classy.”

“Thanks.”

Mal leaned in closer, his breath warming my neck as he slowly did up the back. I immediately broke out into goose bumps.

“I never noticed how long your neck is. It’s very nice.”

“Mm.”

“And you have sweet little ears.”

“Um, thanks.”

“No bra?” he asked, his voice casual.

“No. With this dress, I can’t … We don’t actually need to discuss this right now.”

The tips of his fingers trailed up my spine, ahead of the zipper. I got shivery, the English language leaving my mind.

“That’s going to be a hell of a distraction, pumpkin,” he breathed. “Trying to look down the front of your dress all night.”

The look he gave me made me quiver in strange places. This was the problem; my inability to tell if he was serious or not. The whole scene was about establishing ourselves as a couple for Lauren’s benefit, right? It just didn’t feel like it for some reason. It felt personal. With Mal touching me, I kind of forgot Lauren was even in the room. She was, however, most definitely present.

Lauren groaned, loudly. “Oh good god, my ears are bleeding.”

He made me feverish without even trying. I needed to guard my reactions and keep it together. It was the only way this would work.