Make Me Over_ Getting Real - Leslie Kelly [12]
“I thought I’d stumbled into a hooker convention,” he muttered.
“With a pair of undies on your head, I can see why.”
“I don’t suppose they were yours?” He sounded almost hopeful.
“Nope. I didn’t even know you was in the room.”
“No, you were busy looking at the books.”
That she had been. Imagine how different her dinner mighta been if she’d had Drew’s handsome face to think on, instead of focusin’ on the sliminess of the snails on her plate. He was a lot more appetizin’ than anything they coulda served in this place.
How she could’ve missed him in the room, she had no idea. Them books must have spelled her or somethin’. Then she thought about what Ginny’d done, and how she’d feel havin’ a pair of undies on her head. “They weren’t used,” she said, hoping that’d make him feel better. “In case you were, you know…wonderin’.”
“Excuse me?”
This time, she knew what he meant, but gave him a saucy grin, anyways. “Another noise?”
“Tori…”
“I was just joshin’. I mean, Ginny, the girl who threw the scanties, she didn’t pull ’em off herself or nothin’.”
“Thank heaven for small favors.”
“She pulled ’em outta her pocket.” She grimaced. “I been tryin’ to think why somebody’d need spare drawers in her pocket.”
“Perhaps she was afraid her luggage would get lost.”
He said it in so dry a voice, she knew right away he was funnin’. She chuckled, likin’ this man’s delivery. “Maybe.” Then, thinkin’ on it, she added, “I got a cousin who’ll shimmy outta hers right under her dress and toss ’em to her boyfriend whenever she wants him to hurry up and take her home from the bar.” Then she shrugged. “’Course, that’s only when she’s walkin’ on a slant. She’s a good girl when she ain’t drinkin’. Works as one’a them cosmetologists puttin’ makeup on the dead people down at Franklin’s Funerals and Exterminatin’.”
Drew just shook his head, a cute hunk of hair floppin’ down onto his forehead. “Did you say a funeral parlor and exterminator?”
“Sheets Creek’s kinda small,” she explained. “Not much buryin’ business around, but they sure is a lotta bugs. So when he ain’t haulin’ a body around, ole Mr. Franklin hitches up a sprayer onto the back of his hearse.”
Drew nodded. “You know, I think I might someday have to make a visit to Sheets Creek. It sounds as interesting as many of the ancient civilizations and societies I’ve studied.”
It did? Shew, Tori figured Sheets Creek was about as normal and boring as any other town in America. Then she thought on the word he’d used. “Society,” she repeated, soundin’ it out, thinkin’ on what he’d said earlier about his job. “That have somethin’ to do with…what was the word you used…sociology?”
A little twinkle in his eye told her she was right.
Tori wanted to sink right through the couch onto the floor. She musta sounded like a fool prattling on about people bein’ social. He didn’t teach nothin’ as dumb as how to get along with people. He taught about history and stuff. People from the past. Like them disco dancers from the seventies.
But Drew quickly distracted her from her fit of embarrassment. He reached over and put his hand on hers, until, suddenly, Tori couldn’t think of nothin’ but the warmth of his fingers. And how close he was. So close…but not close enough.
She scooted over a teeny bit, real casual-like, until their legs almost touched. Then she sighed, wonderin’ if somebody’d turned up the radiator, or if this man was the one puttin’ off all that sudden heat.
“Forget about it,” he said softly. “You’d obviously never heard of what I did. But you figured it out…right quick.”
The teasing smile on those lips of his told her he was pokin’ gentle fun. Not being mean. He was tryin’ to talk on her level, to put her at ease. She liked him for that, she surely did.
“Drew?” she asked, nibbling her lip as she worked up her nerve to get the subject where she really wanted it. “Since I’m leavin’ and all tomorrow, can I ask you a favor?”
“Don’t leave tomorrow.”
“I gotta….”
“No, you don’t.” He turned a little, facing her. “This is perfect for you, Tori. You’re smart and you’re quick and you’re