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  sex. I don't smile, don't lift a brow, just keep my face

  stony. Austin pushes my hair off my shoulders.

  "That's al I meant. That nobody…that you're so great."

  "Great at sucking cock?" I frown, even though I'm glad to

  know he thinks so.

  know he thinks so.

  "And other things." He teases me back toward the bed

  and I let him until we're both lying on top of the quilt my

  grandma made me.

  Austin strokes down my body and kisses me. When his

  hand finds my pussy again, I know I'm wet from earlier.

  His fingers slide against me. His breath is hot on my neck

  as he pants. His thumb presses my clit and his fingers

  move inside, then out. Against my thigh, his cock presses

  hot and hard. He moves his mouth to my nipple and sucks

  gently, and though I came just a little while ago, desire

  gathers in my bely again.

  "I missed you," he says again.

  "Did you?"

  Austin nods against my neck. It seems stupid to be angry

  with him now, or to worry about if he cheated on me while

  he was gone. I know he did, once or twice, when we were

  in high school. Hel. I cheated on him, too, if you want to

  count the times he thought we were on and I thought we

  were off and vice versa. But not since graduating, not since

  we both got ful-time jobs and a ful-time relationship.

  we both got ful-time jobs and a ful-time relationship.

  He fumbles for the rubbers I keep in the box in my

  nightstand and puts one on. I could help him, but I'd rather

  watch just now. He rols it on over his cock, his teeth

  clamped onto his lower lip in concentration. Then he

  moves up my body and centers himself before pushing

  inside me.

  I groan; I can't help it. I fucking love this, the sex. His

  weight. His prick so hard and thick and long inside me,

  so long it hurts sometimes when he fucks me, but I like

  that, too. He's got muscles in his arms from all the

  heavy lifting and I grab one as he thrusts inside me.

  I lift my hips to meet him and his bely presses my clit

  every time we move together. Orgasm doesn't build, it

  tears me down. I'm coming again when he starts to move

  harder and faster, and I know Austin's coming, too.

  It doesn't always happen that way, that we finish

  together, so it's sort of magical and leaves me sleepy

  and contented and cuddly, after. He loops an arm

  around me when he's thrown away the condom. We lay

  on my bed, spooning, and his breath ruffles my hair.

  "Paige," Austin says. "I want to ask you something

  important."

  And then we're on the ocean, in a boat that's going

  down.

  As the cold, dark sea closed over my head, the sound of

  the alarm bels ripped into my ears. I took a deep breath,

  even though I was underwater. I kicked, the tight clutch of

  the waves around my ankles becoming the tangled grasp

  of sheets around my feet as I opened my eyes and

  fumbled, without seeing, for the phone.

  "What?" At this hour I couldn't be expected to be polite,

  could I?

  "Paige?"

  I blinked, not wanting to look at my bedside clock's

  numbers. It was way too fucking early to be up. "Arty.

  What's the matter? Where's Mama?"

  "Mama's stil sleeping. And Leo's at work," he added,

  though I hadn't asked. "I'm hungry."

  "Make yourself some cereal." I stifled a yawn and

  "Make yourself some cereal." I stifled a yawn and

  pondered giving in to a hangover that wouldn't have

  bothered me with just a few more hours' sleep.

  "There isn't any."

  "No Cheerios? No Raisin Bran?"

  My little brother, the only other sibling I'd ever actualy

  lived with, made a familiar noise of disgust. "I don't like

  those kind."

  "Then I guess you must not be that hungry." I was hungry,

  but didn't feel like getting out of bed at the butt-crack of

  dawn to fix toast. "Arty, it's too early to cal me. What did

  I tel you about that?"

  "Can't you come over and make me some pancakes?" His

  little-boy voice sounded very far away. I pictured him in

  his Spider-Man pajamas, bare feet swinging because his

  legs weren't long enough to reach the floor. "Please?"

  Maybe if I kept my eyes closed I'd fal back to sleep. I

  snuggled deeper under my soft blankets. "Buddy, I don't

  live there anymore. I told you that. I told you I couldn't just

  come over whenever you caled."

  Silence.

  "But I miss you," Arthur said in a tiny voice.

  I sighed. "I miss you, too, buddy. How about I come

  down and take you to the movies sometime soon?"

  "When?" At nearly seven, the kid had been reading since

  he was four and could tel time on an analogue clock, a

  skil that sometimes stumped me. There wasn't much that

  slipped past him. "Today?"

  "Not today, no. Maybe later this week."

  "When? When?"

  I couldn't think straight and just tossed out a day.

  "Wednesday?"

  "Saturday. Sunday. Monday. Tuesday. Wednesday.

  That's a week!"

  He sounded so dismayed I hated to laugh. Laughing, in

  fact, hurt my head. "Not quite. Five days."

  "That's too long!" Arthur's voice pitched high enough to

  "That's too long!" Arthur's voice pitched high enough to

  dril my tender ears.

  "You've got gymnastics on Tuesday, and Monday I've got

  an appointment in the evening. Sorry, buddy. You have to

  wait until Wednesday. Besides," I said, offering an

  incentive against despair, "the new Power Heroes movie

  comes out on Wednesday. How about that?"

  "Okay." He didn't sound convinced, only resigned. "But I'm hungry now, Paige."

  "Cereal. Or have a snack from the drawer."

  "Mama says no snacks from the drawer until after

  breakfast."

  "Aren't there any cereal bars in the drawer?" I bit back

  another yawn. If I didn't get back to sleep in the next ten

  minutes I was not going to be a happy camper.

  "Yesss…" Even Arthur knew where I was going with this,

  but he sounded like it might be too good to be true.

  "Have one of those. They're cereal, right?"

  "Can I tel Mama you said it was okay?"

  "Can I tel Mama you said it was okay?"

  "Sure." It wouldn't be the first time she'd holer at me for giving the kid permission to do something she'd have

  refused. On the other hand, this was the woman who'd

  alowed me to go to school in a pair of hand-me-down,

  slip-on Candie's shoes in the sixth grade and bought me

  my first package of rubbers in the tenth. She was a

  different sort of mother to Arthur than she'd been to me.

  "Now let me go back to sleep, okay?"

  "Okay. Bye, Paige."

  "Bye."

  "I love you," my little brother said before I could hang up.

  It wasn't the first time he'd ever said it, but suddenly the

  memory of how he'd smeled as a baby washed over me

  with enough force to push my eyelids open like snapped-

  open blinds. How his hair had been