Chapter Eight
Andy
“You have a lot of books,” Josie commented once again.
She gestured to the low bookcases that lined one wall of my bedroom, all of them overflowing with layers and layers of books. “I didn’t really notice yesterday, but I looked at your shelves downstairs today and then I saw these before we…”
“Screwed each other’s brains out?” I supplied. “Showed you something new with my tongue?”
She blushed and laughed. “Yeah, before that.”
Josie and I were naked under just a thin sheet, her petite, curvy body nestled in the much bigger curvature of mine. I looped an arm around her waist and pulled her closer as I idly reached up to cup a plump breast. I loved Josie’s tits—absolutely adored them, and I regretted that I hadn’t paid them enough attention this evening.
“I do like to read,” I confirmed as I stroked a thumb across a nipple, glancing over her shoulder at the ripe pink peak against the golden olive tone of my skin. “Love it, actually. I have an English degree.”
She rolled slightly to look at me, faint surprise crossing her face. “Really?”
I grinned and took advantage of the increased access to smooth a rough palm across the other creamy-white breast. “Really. Surprised?”
“A little.” Josie relaxed fully onto her back next to me and ran her own little fingers across my chest, tracing the tattoos that dotted the furred flesh here and there. “I guess all the English majors I know went into teaching or, like, advertising or something.”
“Nope.” I leaned down and nuzzled into the warm skin of her neck. “Not for me.” I kissed her earlobe and lightly bit down on it, enjoying the tiny shiver that rattled down her spine. “Now I’m just a contractor who likes to read.” I wrote sometimes, too—little, short stories and poems, but I didn’t have the balls to mention those to Josie just yet.
She ran a finger down my arm. “How’d you wind up a contractor, then?”
I took a deep breath and rolled to my back, pulling her with me until she lounged partially on top of me, chin resting on her crossed arms as she looked down into my eyes, her own inquisitive.
“I worked for my uncle’s construction company in high school and college and when I got out, I realized that working with my hands was more my speed than writing up copy for crappy websites or something similar.” I ran a hand down her back, all the way to her plush behind. A shot of pure, fiery lust streaked through me when I remembered what we’d done—the way I shocked and thrilled her when I tongued and fingered that hot little ass.
“You’re different from your siblings,” she observed matter-of-factly, even as she wiggled against my hand. “Why is that?”
I chuckled. “How come you ask so many questions?” Not that I minded. I would answer her questions all day, every day, just for the pleasure of her sharp, funny company.
Josie shrugged and snuggled up against my side. “I’ve always asked a ton of questions.” She poked me in the ribs. “So tell me what I want to know.”
I just laughed some more and swatted her finger away. “Fine, fine.” I looked up at the ceiling and thought. “I don’t think I’m that different in all the ways that matter, honestly. We’re all pretty good people and we love each other, you know? They always have my back and I always have theirs. My brothers and my sister are my best friends and they always will be.”
“I get that,” she said. “My siblings and I are the same way.”
I reached up and fingered a silky strand of hair, disheveled and drying in wild waves after our roll in the sheets. “My siblings all really stood out in one way or another when I was growing up,” I explained. “Nicky was like God in high school with all these sports trophies, Ian was clearly an incredible artist, George was the genius who won the science fair every year and Frankie was just sort of the family princess that we all worshipped. And I was always just—me, Andy, an average kid who liked to read and play outside and do stuff with my hands.”
I swallowed. It wasn’t painful to explain, just strange. No one had ever really asked and made me open up about something so personal. Leave it to Josie to scratch below the surface and prompt me to share.
“I did just fine in school, but when I thought about what might make me happy in my life, I realized that graduate school or some high-powered job or whatever—that wasn’t for me. And I realized that I didn’t have to measure myself against George or Nicky or Ian, and instead I could just dictate what success meant for me.”
“So your parents are good with it?”
I nodded. “Yup. Dad probably would’ve liked another kid with doctor in front of his name, but he’s just happy that I’m happy and doing well. My mom and dad are great parents that way, and very supportive.” I placed a soft kiss on her lips and turned the conversation to her. “What about you? Why do you want to be a doctor?”
Josie abruptly rolled off of my chest, surprising me, and I reached out to drag her back in again but stopped when she pushed the sheet away to expose all of her beautiful, naked body. I saw a flash of slick, pink flesh between her thighs and my mouth watered, but she just rolled her eyes.
“Look here,” she said, pointing at her right leg.
I leaned in close. Scars—several of them, shiny and wicked-looking as they curled around the smooth muscle. Other scars dotted her leg down to her knee as well, straight and tidy slices as if from a surgeon, with the telltale dots left over from stapling.
“Huh.” I ran my fingers over the pink lines. “I guess I saw them, but I didn’t even really think about it because we were otherwise occupied.” I looked up at Josie, at her neutral expression. “How did you get these?”
She grazed an index finger down one particularly painful-looking ridge of tissue. “Car accident,” she explained. “My twin brother Johnny and I were driving together over Thanksgiving break during our freshman year of college and a big truck ran a stop sign and smashed into us. Johnny was a little banged up from the impact and the airbags, but my leg was pinned. Fractured my femur and cracked my knee in several places.”