Marianne by Elizabeth Hammer (best books to read in life TXT) 📕

“Excuse me?” he spat out. Patrick looked more pissed than she’d ever seen him.

Marianne instantly drew back. Holy crap. She opened her mouth, but couldn’t speak, she was so shocked. Apparently, she’d never made a joke with worse timing.

“Do you think so little of me, Marianne?”

“What?” That one word took all the breath out of her chest.

Patrick snatched Marianne’s beer out of her hand and walked away down the driveway. Marianne stood up to go after him but froze when he spun around to face her. His face was totally expressionless again. She tensed but didn’t move.

Patrick cleared his throat and lifted up the bottle he’d snatched from her hands. “Behold,” he said in a formal voice. “The Exploding Beer Trick.”

What? The Exploding... She started laughing so hard that it took her a second to even start making noise.

“Silence, please,” he scolded. “I’ll need a volunteer from the audience.”

Marianne raised her hand. “I’ll do it.”

“Thank you, sugarplum.” He jogged over to her and gave her his own beer to hold for him. Then he moved back about ten feet and angled away slightly. He gripped the neck of the bottle and slapped down on the rim with his open palm. The bottle blasted apart, spraying beer and glass everywhere.

“Yes!” Marianne jumped up and shot her hands into the air, spilling beer down the back of her jacket. “That was awesome!” she said, hopping up and down. “Do it again.”

Patrick stepped over to the case and opened another. He took a drink and held it up to the light to check the level of the liquid. “Okay, beer-waster. Step back.”

She ran up onto the porch. “Okay, go.”

Patrick gripped the bottle and hit it, but this time it didn’t explode. The bottom of the bottle popped off in one round piece and rolled away, spilling beer on the ground like a waterfall.

“Whoa!” Marianne jumped off the porch and chased the piece of glass across the driveway. “Look, it’s perfect,” she said, holding it up.

Patrick stood in the middle of the wet, splintered mess and smiled at her. Marianne smiled back, but she was scared that the good moment would slip away. “Show me how to do it,” she said.

Patrick looked a little hesitant. “I don’t know if you have the required awesomeness.”

“Oh, no?”

Patrick pretended to be scared by the look on her face. “We can try,” he said.

Marianne walked over to the porch and picked up a fresh bottle. “This seems like it would be an unpopular trick, what with the wasted alcohol, and all.”

“Yeah, well... You’re actually supposed to put water in the empty ones,” he said. “I just used yours to get it away from you. You’re not supposed to be drinking, and I had guilt.”

Marianne carried two bottles over to Patrick and tried to learn the opening trick first. She made a few feeble attempts but had to quit. “It hurts my hand.”

“Good,” said Patrick. He opened her bottle for her and handed it back. “Like I said, I need that one to impress you.”

Marianne shook her head and put herself into position to explode the bottle. “Like this?”

“Move your hand up a little,” he said. “Okay, now cup your other hand and slam down hard. It’s gonna hurt.”

“What?” Marianne stood up straight. “You should have added that part before.”

Patrick laughed and stepped up behind her. “That’s what I meant when I said it took awesomeness.” He put his arms around her and positioned her hands correctly.

Marianne gripped the bottle hard. “Am I ready?”

“Yes.”

...

“Any time now,” he said.

“But I’m scared.”

“You should be,” he laughed. “This isn’t exactly a safe thing to do.”

Marianne turned toward him in outrage. “Then why are you letting me do it? Am I going to impale my hand?”

Patrick kissed her cheek. “Don’t worry, nothing’s going to happen. Nothing at all, in fact.”

Marianne sucked in a shocked breath. “You have no faith in me!”

Patrick bit his lip.

“All right, buddy. Watch this...” She smacked down on the mouth of the bottle as hard as she could. The whole thing rocketed out of her hand and hit the pavement, clinking and rolling around in a very lame fashion. Unbroken. “Fricker!” screeched Marianne, shaking out her bruised palm.

“Oh, baby,” laughed Patrick. He pulled her hurt hand out of her grip and kissed it as he laughed at her.

“That was not—”

Ronny Grant’s floodlights suddenly flicked on across the street and they heard his door start to squeak.

“Crap!” Marianne grabbed Patrick’s jacket, and they ran, stumbling, toward the house. She got to the door first and quickly shoved her bag out of the way. Patrick came in and shut the door behind them.

Marianne leaned against the wall with her hands on her knees, laughing, and tried to catch her breath. The curtains were closed, making it almost impossible to see anything inside the house. “He’d better not call the cops,” she whispered. There was no reason for silence, but the darkness and danger seemed to require it, anyway. “Do you think he’ll walk over and—”

And suddenly, Marianne was pushed upright against the wall and Patrick was all over her. He was kissing her everywhere, even catching her lips with his teeth. He put his hand under her shirt and gripped her waist. If she didn’t know better, she’d think he wanted her to rip off her clothes again. The man was a mystery. She clutched his hair in her fists and stood on tiptoes, giving him more access to any part of her he wanted. He ran his hand roughly down the legs of her jeans and even grabbed her backside. He kissed the side of her face. “Do you have any idea how beautiful you are?”

“No,” she said breathlessly.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her off the wall toward him. “You make me insane.”

Marianne really, really wanted to take off her jacket so that there would be less padding between them, but she didn’t. Patrick’s guilt was still too fresh in her mind.