Tiel shook her hand, and I saw all the questions and doubt behind her eyes. In that instant, I wanted to start over with her, and never mention any of my whorish history because now it was living and breathing between us like a goddamn parasite. I couldn’t even try to evolve because I’d sold her on the asshole version of me, and shoved it in her face every chance I got.
I made it this way, and I knew that. I was the one drooling over every pair of tits that entered my line of sight even though Tiel’s were the only that interested me.
I was the one who insisted on all the comments about casual sex, as if I needed her to know I was hot shit in my stupid little universe.
I was the one who didn’t mention I hadn’t thought about anything casual sex since she dragged me into an alley and breathed new life into me with her kiss.
“Andy, this is Tiel Desai.” To Andy’s credit, she didn’t show an ounce of shock over seeing me with a date. If there was one thing I could count on Andy for, it was equanimity. “Andy is an architect. She works at the firm with me and she’s with . . .” When Patrick rounded the corner with a bottle of beer in one hand and a martini glass in the other, he skittered to a stop and stared at us. He wasn’t as reliable with the equanimity. “Patrick.”
He smiled at Tiel, his eyes darting between her face and where my hand was wrapped around her hip. If she mutated into Mystique right then and there, it probably wouldn’t have surprised him more than seeing me with a woman.
“Patrick,” Andy said, collecting her drink from his hand. “This is Tiel. She’s herewith Sam.”
I scratched the back of my neck and sighed. My dick was still wet from coming in her hand, and my body still wanted to consume her, but I also wanted to show her off. I needed to prove that someone as intelligent and stunning as Tiel would want me, even if me and my bucketful of crazy weren’t close to worthy of her.
“Tiel. Hi,” he said. He turned to Andy. “Am I supposed to know what’s going on here?”
Shaking her head, she sipped her drink and jabbed her elbow into his ribs. “No, honey, you’re fine,” she laughed.
Patrick and I stared at each other, his brow furrowed, and I counted the seconds in my head, just waiting for the right moment to get the fuck out of here. But he wasn’t having it. “Is there anyone I should talk to?”
There were fuckingpantiesin my pocket. These were not the conditions for a business discussion.
I waved down the hall, impatient. “Larson and DeCosta are under the impression they own the Andover planning and zoning boards, and Ciccannessi suggested he’s tearing down some abandoned Cape Annes in Newton next year and building condos. Seems like a tragic idea to me, but that’s Shannon’s domain, and she’s busy with her disappearing act every other weekend.”
“Shannon doesn’t have to be the only person who handles shit, and this is the only time she’s been away since Labor Day weekend. And we’re here,” he said, nodding toward Andy. “We can handle it.”
“Right, because the two of you are so fucking chatty,” I said.
“Do you have time to restore some Queen Annes? We can take them off Ciccannessi’s hands right now,” Patrick said. “I’m the last person who wants to see another condo built, but as far as I can tell, you have enough projects for the next forty-seven years.”
“Matt might have some time coming up,” Andy said.
Tiel’s fingers moved down my back and under my suit coat, closing around my shirt. That was when I realized she hadn’t said a word since I had her backed against those bookshelves. She had no clue what was going on.
“Tiel’s a conservatory-trained violinist,” I said. “And a professor at Berklee.”
“Adjunct,” she said.
Patrick frowned, not understanding the sudden shift in topic, but Andy—thank God for Andy, because Patrick was a socially inept wildebeest—knew where I was going. “What do you teach?”
“Music therapy.” I wanted her to elaborate, to talk about the kids she worked with and places she’d performed and her online viewership, but then I caught the icy glare she was shooting at Andy. She held it another moment, then glanced at me and said, “You’re busy here. I’m going to head home.”
“No, you’re not,” I said. “If you’re going anywhere, I’m going with you.”
Her eyes darted to my chest, knowing her panties were stowed in my interior pocket. “Don’t worry,” she said. “You can catch up with me later.”
She waved to Patrick and Andy, and hurried through the vestibule. There was no way in hell I was letting this turn into a repeat of last weekend. “I don’t care what you do about Ciccannessi,” I said. “I’m with Tiel tonight.”
“Just you wait a second,” Andy said, holding up her palm. “What the hell does that mean? What the hell is going on? Whoisthat and why does she hate me?”
“I’ll explain on Monday,” I said, and jogged through the door and down the gravel driveway to where she was weaving through cars and small snow banks. I caught up to her, but she didn’t seem interested in acknowledging me. “I clearly recall telling you not to go anywhere. Get your sweet ass in the car so I can take you home.”
She shook her head and continued down the path. “Go back inside. Do your thing. Buy your houses or whatever.”
“I didn’t fuck her,” I said, and Tiel froze. “I know you’re thinking it, but you’re wrong. She’s with my brother.”
“But you’ve thought about it,” she said.
