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He frowned. “No. You gave them to me.”
My mouth dropped open. “Um, we’re at a partyand someone, I’m not pointing fingers here, prematurely ejaculatedinside me.”
“It’s not premature if I planned it to be aquickie.” He zipped up and took his cane from where he’d left itleaning against the bench.
“Yeah, but gravity.” I gestured in thedirection of my crotch. “I can’t walk around this party—”
“With my cum smeared all over your thighs?”He pointed his cane at my hem. “You have a long skirt. I don’tthink anyone will notice.”
I planted my hands on my hips. “I’ll notice.And if we run into my brother, it’s going to be all you can thinkabout.”
A look of horror passed over Matt’sface.
He gave the panties back.
* * * *
By the time we made it back to the party,things had begun to wind down. Apparently, weekends in the countryincluded “excursions.” Most of the guests had moved through thehouse, to the front, and Matt led me there looking for his mom.
“Matthew!” she called out, gliding toward uswith her long cigarette holder waving in the air like a conductor’sbaton. “They’re leaving for the winery.”
“We don’t have to excurd, do we?” I askedMatt quietly as we watched some guests get into a shuttle.
“Not if you don’t want to,” Matt said withan expression of pure relief. To his mother, he said, “You know, Ithink we’ll skip the winery. I’ve been.”
Elizabeth pursed her lips. “Don’t beantisocial, dear.”
“I’m not—”
“He’s trying to avoid me.” My brother’svoice was loud and clear behind us. He used a friendly tone, but Iknew a passive-aggressive accusation when I heard one. We wereraised by the same damn woman.
I turned, ready to snap at him that he’dbeen avoiding us all through the party, then remembered that thiswasn’t the time or place for a sibling spat. Instead, I smiledbrightly at him. “How could we avoid you when we didn’t even knowyou were going to be here?”
“You’ve both been difficult to contact,” hesaid, returning fire and setting a trap. “No cell service in theCaribbean?”
Matt returned Scott’s smile, but tightly.“It can be spotty.”
“You’d think with all your money you’d beable to afford an international SIM card.”
Scott had barely finished speaking beforeElizabeth tutted and said, “Please, boys, no talking about money.It’s vulgar.”
The irony briefly ejected my consciousnessout of my body. Don’t talk about money, it’s vulgar. But we were ata weekend-long birthday party in a palace.
“Sorry, Mrs. Ashe,” Scott said, and I fullyexpected him to bow to her.
In fairness to my brother, Elizabeth Ashewasintimidating, with her perfect updo, elegant caftan, andfluid movements that managed to make cigarettes look glamorous andappealing. I guess I couldn’t blame him for being cowed, especiallysince she was his best friend’s mom.
“Are you going to the winery?” Elizabethasked Scott.
He shook his head. “I thought it would bebetter to get some rest before the party tonight. I’d rather missthe winery than the desserts.”
Elizabeth laughed, almost manically, andtouched Scott’s arm.
Just as I thought to myself,it wasn’tthat funny, I came to the horrifying realization that she wasflirting. With my brother. Who was the same age as her son.
“We’re not going either,” Matt said,interjecting his words like a knife through awkward butter. “Scott,you and I should hang out.”
“What about poor Charlotte?” Elizabethasked, and I shot pleading eyes at Matt. If he left me alone withhis mother…