Page 85 of Stag

“Just making conversation, man. You were asking about sex last time we were hanging out, and we’ve got nothing to do but chat, right? You like talking. You did plenty of it last time.”

“I could just shut up this time,” I grumbled, digging out my phone to play a game. Danno’s long fingers closed over it.

“Nope. We’re meant to be watching that door, and anyone moving around it. Can’t do that if you’re playing with yourself.”

I snatched it back and slid it into my pocket.

“What about audiobooks or something?”

Danno snorted. “You listen to a lot of those?”

“What, like I’m too much of a meathead to read? Take a look at yourself, mate.”

“I read a lot, actually. In fact, my fiancé and I read together. It’s… well, frankly, it’s hot as hell.”

Hot? He caught my frown and grinned again.

“Sexy books, man. They get women all squirmy and wet, and we get to reap the sweet rewards.”

Sexy books? I didn’t even know there were such things, but then porn exists, so why not, right?

We fell silent, staring at the door, and watching cars as they came and went, but nobody went near that damn place.

“Why do they even care about this door anyway?”

I really don’t think he needed to groan like that in response. Pretty petulant if you ask me.

“We don’t need to know that. The bosses want to know who comes and goes, and that’s the job. Cameras can miss angles, but human eyes? We can turn and look at everything, right? So, can you just wind it in and do the job?”

Fuck it.

“So I did take your advice, by the way. Thanks for that.”

He just nodded, keeping his eyes away from me, like he understood that looking at me would make this awkward. Jesus, like it wasn’t already fucking awkward.

“You’re welcome. Glad it’s working out for you both. Keep putting her first, and you’ll win her for good.”

I glared at the arrogant fucker, because he thought he knew everything, didn’t he?

“I don’t need to win her over, fuckhead, she’s already mine.” Now I sounded like a caveman.

“Maybe check out some of those sexy books, man. Give you some fun ideas to act out with your lady, but just avoid the darker romances. Start with the sweet stuff. You know… novice stuff.” He smirked again and fiddled with his knife some more. Honestly, that thing was really starting to piss me off. We had to manage two days of this?

Claudia

It was so much fun, working with Caroline to paint the room we’d been assigned to. We had rollers, long poles, and trays of light grey paint, and thankfully we were in one of the rooms the carpeting team hadn’t reached yet, so we weren’t as nervous as we’d be if we were desperately trying not to spill on new carpets.

It reminded me of working on projects with my sister. It reminded me of when we moved into the flat we’d been sharing, and painted the rooms together. Things were better then. Fun. We giggled, spilled, dabbed paint on each other’s arms and faces, and sat and ate our dinners on the floor together as we argued over whose painting was better. Ouch. Reminders like those made me miss her so much, because this was what we had. How did things change so much?

A light touch on my arm pulled me from my thoughts.

“I need more paint, are you okay?”

I nodded at Caroline, straightening up and stretching my back out.

“Why don’t you use the rest of mine while I go use the facilities?” One of the downstairs bathrooms had been made available for old ladies, and me, while the men were still using the outside ones. When I reached the door though, I dug out my phone instead, leaning against the wall with it. I’d entered but blocked Marissa’s number, like I needed to have it, but I knew I couldn’t use it. I figured I could just unblock it and try to start a normal conversation, right? We’re twin sisters, surely we can find some common ground. She could have been here painting with us, giggling, having fun. She’d like Caroline, I knew she would.

I took a deep breath and unblocked her, waiting for a ton of messages to hit me in a rush, but there were none. No messages. Suddenly all I felt was panic. Why wasn’t she trying to reach me? Had something happened to her? Oh god. Would I feel if it she had been injured? We sometimes felt each other’s pains, physical ones, not emotional. I’d know, right? Then it hit me, she didn’t have this number, duh.