Free Monsters by Liz Kay Page B

for later.”
    â€œMaybe you should go in late,” I said, and I leaned in again, this time kissing his lips.
    â€œWhy are you always like this when I’m busy?” he said, and he put his hands on my hips, nudging me to get up.
    I narrowed my eyes at him, pushed my lips out into a pout. “I hate you,” I said, and then he did kiss me, but only lightly, not with any interest, and he said, “I know.”
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    When I wake, it’s dark out, and Tommy is still curled around me, his hand tucked between my thighs, but I slip out without waking him. In the upstairs shower, I lean my face against the cool tile and let the hot water run on my neck. I stay like that for a long time, and I keep my eyes closed tight, but I don’t cry.
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    It’s close to eight when I hear Tommy’s bare feet scuffing on the tile floor behind me.
    I say, “Morning,” but I don’t turn around.
    He walks around the island and goes straight for the coffee. He’s just wearing these low jeans, no shirt. “You didn’t sleep any better?” he asks, turning to face me.
    I smile, but I shake my head. “Not really.”
    â€œI gotta tell you, that’s a little insulting.” He frowns. “You could at least fake it.”
    â€œMaybe I did.”
    â€œGood one,” he says. He takes a sip of his coffee. “Flight’s at noon? Before you go, I want you to read through a new draft of the script. Joe sent it yesterday while you were sleeping.” He pulls a banana off a bunch sitting in a bowl on the counter and snaps the peel. “Banana?”
    â€œNo,” I say. “When you say ‘new draft’ . . .”
    He takes a bite of the banana, shifts it to his cheek, and talks around it. “You’ll just have to look at it.” He walks around the island and across the room, toward the study. When he comes back, he drops a stack of pages in front of me. “Start on page eighty-seven.” And then he stands there next to me, leaning against the counter, half naked.
Christ.
“Sure you don’t want some of my banana?” He smiles.
    â€œNo. I really don’t. Thank you.”
    â€œCome on, just a little bit.” He pulls a piece off and holds it up to my mouth. “Just the tip.”
    â€œYou are a pervert,” I say, pushing his hand away.
    â€œCome on. One bite.”
    â€œThen will you go away so I can read this?”
    â€œAbsolutely.”
    I open my mouth, and he holds the piece of banana up, and I take it with my teeth.
    â€œJesus, Stacey, not the teeth. It’s very tender.”
    â€œOh my god. You are like a twelve-year-old. Go away.”
    I hear the front door open and close, Daniel’s feet in the hallway. He walks into the kitchen, and he takes one look at us, Tommy leaning on the counter, his foot on the rung of my stool, both of us eating the same banana, and he says, “Jesus Christ. Tell me you’re not that stupid.”
    â€œYou’re fired,” Tommy says, and he takes another bite.
    Daniel walks around to the coffeemaker and pours himself a cup. He adds sugar, walks to the fridge, pulls out the milk, stirs.
    â€œStacey,” he says finally with a kind of sigh as he turns to face me, “I’m not gonna lie. I’m disappointed.”
    â€œI know,” I say, frowning at him. “I’m kind of disappointed in myself.”
    â€œOh, fuck you both.” Tommy stands up and walks back around the island, throws the banana peel in the trash, and picks his coffee back up.
    Daniel shrugs, shakes his head at me with this sad frown. “I’ll be in the study if you need anything, sweetie.” He walks around the island and rubs my arm. “Like some penicillin,” he says, and I laugh.
    â€œJust read the script,” Tommy says.
    I pick it up, flip the pages across