“They didn’t get divorced back then.”
“That sounds terrible.”
“Lucky for you, you live in the modern era where you can have as many divorces as your heart desires.”
“If I get married, I won’t be getting divorced.”
“No? You strike me as the type who would need a starter wife, then the wife he has the kids with, and then the younger model he trades her in for.” I count them off on my fingers, and he raises a brow at me.
“Nah. If I meet a woman who can convince me walking down the aisle is a good idea, no way I’m letting her go.”
“Fair enough. I better get an invitation to that event, because I will need to witness it with my own eyes to believe it.”
“You’ll be top of the list, Princess.”
“Here.” He pushes the tray toward me. “I didn’t know what your favorite was, so I got a variety.”
I take the tray and grab a few things off it, glancing at him as I do. This Easton, the one with none of the usual arrogance, the one just sitting here eating M&Ms and talking historical dramas with me. I mightlike-himlike-him. Which sends a flag up at the same time little wings take flight in my stomach.
We watch the movie, but I honestly miss parts of it, too distracted by him being next to me to care about what’s happening on the screen. I’m trying to make sense of this whole night, above all, because when I agreed to this little hateship vacation with him I assumed we’d be having sex. And me taking a bath alone, and now sitting a chaste distance apart from him while we watch a movie is not in line with what I expected the Easton experience to be like.
When a sex scene starts on the screen, the awkwardness of us sitting here like this quadruples because I feel like it’s a giant sign pointing back at us. I grab another piece of red licorice and then the sheet, pulling it over me and settling back against the pillows.
“You cold? I can kick the fire on,” he grabs the controller for the electric fireplace.
“A little,” I admit, starting to wonder if I’m going to have to be the one to make the first move. And then wondering whether or not I should, because I feel like I might get rejected. Maybe he’s changed his mind. There is definitely a ton of gorgeous women around town, and he can have any of them, or all of them, rather than be spending his time with me.
His brow furrows and he stares at the fireplace controller, deciding what buttons he needs to push while the couple on the screen gets naked. I slide a little closer to him, trying to close the gap between us, and he glances at me as the fire flickers on, but he doesn’t say anything and his eyes return to the screen.
I don’t know what the most sexually frustrated I’ve ever been before this was, but having Easton Westfield half-naked in bed with me while a fictional couple has sex and he acts like I barely exist is competing for first place. And at this point, fuck it.
I turn to him and kiss him. He stiffens at first but then kisses me back, and I use that to get closer, rising onto my knees and running my hands over his shoulders. I’m begging him silently to do anything here to reciprocate. I’m not one of the jersey chasers, and I don’t have their talent or ease of grace to seduce a guy like Easton. I’m well out of my league with him. And up until now, he’s always taken the lead. Something he doesn’t seem to have any interest in doing tonight. Just as I start to pull back though, he pulls me closer and drags me onto his lap until I’m straddling him.
I reach for the hem of my tank top, so I can pull it off and his hands grab my wrists, his eyes coming to mine. A soft pleading look in them that I don’t recognize on his face.
“Don’t.”
“Don’t?” I look at him confused.
“I want to go slow,” he says quietly as he dots kisses along my jaw.
“You want to go slow?” Apparently, all I can do is repeat his words right now because I am wildly confused by everything he’s saying.
“Yes. Slow. Do you normally fuck on the first date?”
“Occasionally,” I admit, furrowing my brow as I study him.
“Well, I don’t.”
I start to laugh until the furrow in his brow deepens.
“We already fucked.”
“We weren’t on a date when it happened. Now we are.”
“And you don’t fuck on the first date?” I give him a look begging him to explain what the hell he is talking about.
“Right. I don’t fuck on the first date, Princess. So if that’s what you were hoping, I’m sorry to disappoint.”
