“There you go,” Valentino murmurs, stepping into my space. His thumb brushes against the corner of my mouth where some of the water spilled down my chin. “Why didn’t you eat anything for lunch?”
“Uh...” I look towards the door next to me and step back. He doesn’t let go of me, though. He follows me until he has me pressed against the wall. “Valentino, this isn’t appropriate.”
I use my sternest voice possible. It doesn’t matter if I think he’s stupid hot, this is red flag behaviour. It’s not okay to push people around and invade their space without their consent. One kiss doesn’t make it okay.
“Nah, sweetheart, I think it is, ’specially after this morning. Loving and leaving me like that,” he says. His touch is so gentle on my skin, the rough calluses tickling me, but his voice is like electricity right through my veins. “I’ve got half a mind to put you on your back and spread those pretty thighs to see if all of you tastes sweet.”
My nipples tighten. They press into the material of the towel at his words like they are at his beck and call. Humiliation sinks in my stomach and makes my clit tingle.
“Look, this morning was a mistake. I’m here for Junelle’s wedding and I’m not some easy lay, if that’s the impression I gave you. I’m not like that.”
“Good to hear,” he rumbles, voice surprisingly deep. “As for this morning, that’s just the start, and I plan to make you mine by the end of this wedding.”
Valentino takes a deep breath, flexing the muscles in his neck before he steps back. He raises his hand and smoothes it through his hair before he straightens his clothes like he’s remembered he’s got an appointment or something. I stare a little dumbfounded. What the fuck does he mean? Does he think I’m just going to be his fun hole for the holiday?
“Eat the full plate, drink another glass of water,” he instructs me. “I’ll let Junelle know you need a few minutes, but I want to see those pretty nails tonight wrapped around a glass of wine. Be ready to leave at eight.”
I blink like a fool. I’m sorry, did I miss a whole conversation? I don’t remember agreeing to go on a date. My heart is stuttering and shrieking and jumping for fucking joy, though. A man who takes initiative? Yes, please. I know the bar for real men is on the fucking floor, but this guy can’t be serious.
My stomach rumbles, because of course it does. I haven’t eaten enough today because I’m terrified my dress for the wedding isn’t going to fit.
“Please eat, and I can’t wait to see you tonight.” He leans down and kisses my forehead. His lips linger on my hairline, like he’s trying to breathe me in before he leaves. “I’m serious, Cheyenne.”
He leaves quickly, and I fall back against the wall. Oh my god. I’ve got half a mind to drop this towel and pull my wand out.I’m serious? About what, sir? Starring in the next Tolson Times Best Sellers Romance?
I need to talk to Junelle.
My hands have been scrubbed raw, my cuticles tamed, and the most stunning shade of light purple I’ve ever seen painted on my stubby nails. The nail tech wasn’t keen for me to skip the shaped fancy gels the rest of the group got, but once I pointed out I couldn’t type with longer nails, the tone changed.
Apparently, it’s imperative I can still do that.
Around me there is so much chatting and laughing, it makes my ears ring. This is for my friend, I remind myself. She is worth even an ounce of minor discomfort. I can be polite and friendly and cordial for as long as she needs me to be.
While some of the other women go outside for a smoke or vape break, others are yawning and ready fora nap. Soon it’s only Junelle and me lounging in this sitting room.
Niceties first, I know surprises aren’t her forté.
“How was birdwatching?” I ask, relaxing into the corner of one of the sofas.
“Good, I’ve got some great pictures, Andrea didn’t get pooped on like he was convinced would happen,” she giggles before plopping down next to me. “Look at how cute I am.”
She pulls up her photos, skipping past ones of birds for me. She and Andrea are perfect. Truly, I’ve never seen a more beautiful couple. Every photo of them together is like seeing real love manifested. No book boyfriends could compare. Junelle looks in her element as well, decked out in hiking gear. She’s always been the adventurer, willing to go where no one has before.
Even at college, field days were her favourite part of our biology classes. I was more of a labs and mathematics type of student. Junelle loves all the beautiful things the natural world has to offer. And I love praising her photography skills. It meant we made a great team for group projects, though, because presentations are my jam.
Probably for the best I became a teacher and she’s working as an environmental scientist for the Harbor Island Nature Reserve. It does make field trip daymy favourite day of school, though. I love getting an excuse to spend the day with her while working.
“I bet Brenda is gonna have smoke coming out of her ears when she sees your pictures.” I thumb to her next photo and see Valentino in this one, his face shoved into Junelle’s e-reader. “Why does he have your tablet?”
“I gave him the ballerina book to keep him occupied on the drive. Couldn’t put it down.” She smirks at me. “He loves Remi.”
“Oh,” I nod. That makes sense, I guess. It explains why he was so strange this afternoon, he knows now. Like the women in the group, Valentino knows about my side hustle. That doesn’t excuse this morning’s weirdness, though.
“Did you eat, by the way?” Junelle leans back and side-eyes me. Her gaze moves from the collar of my T-shirt to my calves. If we hadn’t been friends for over a decade, I would have been uncomfortable with her assessing look.
“I had a few bites of your picnic leftovers. I was mostly thirsty.” I make a pointed move to drink from my water glass, pinky out. “Why?”
“Tino mentioned he got some food for you, said you need a few extra minutes to eat.” Her eyes narrow. “You okay?”
