Camel’s bed was no more than ten feet from where he and Annie stood exchanging a lemony kiss, and as he thought about making that ten-foot trip she had already decided neither to offer herself nor resist whatever overtures he made, Annie fully aware this was moral abdication but that’s the decision she’d made, to let Teddy decide.
After the kiss he embraced her and looked at the freckles spilt down the back of her neck. That summer fourteen years ago he played connect-the-dots on Annie with a ballpoint pen and promised he’d count them all before the summer was out but of course the count kept getting interrupted, and now Camel’s mind perversely flashed an image of Annie on all fours with her little white ass up in the air, that look she gave him when she turned back over one slender shoulder to watch what he was doing, he’d remember that look forever.
They were kissing a second time when the door from the hallway opened.
The silence was so heavily strained that the air in the room seemed to undergo a severe drop in pressure, then Annie spoke the man’s name with an almost insupportable sadness, “Paul,” while Camel’s attention snagged in two places, the first being Paul’s hand which held a butcher knife, the second was the countertop right next to where Paul stood … and upon which Camel had left all three of his side arms.