* * *
This explains a lot.
As a woman with a healthy libido, I’ve heard of audio erotica before. I’ve just never actually listened to any. Five minutes ago, I didn’t even know where to find it, but now not only do I have an app to download, but a name to search as soon as I get back to my apartment.
Or would that be creepy? Is it stalking if I’ve slept with him already and am kinda-sorta fake dating him?
No, wait. He’s the one who carried four dozen (I knew it was four!) bouquets into my room this morning while I was sleeping. Listening to him play act a couple of orgasms will be, like, fair restitution.
Or something.
The masquerade makes so much more sense now. I’m almost disappointed I didn’t put this together sooner. “And your family doesn’t know?”
We’re back in his living room, and yes, the sofa is exactly as comfortable as it looks. “Manny knows.”
I can’t imagine not wanting my family in my business. Even when we don’t agree, I don’t like keeping them in the dark. “I thought maybe this was why there was so much tension between you and your brother.”
He scratches his thumb, looking out the window. “No, that’s an issue that goes a lot farther back.”
“So what do they think you do?”
“Nothing of value, if you asked them,” he says sadly, still turned away, even though the view is barely more than a rooftop car lot and an empty office complex. If I lean enough to the right, I could probably see the Helix building.
I focus on Lincoln instead.
Mom says I’ve always been observant. Ciara is the quiet one, her nose in a book, then in a fish tank. One hilarious afternoon, she jumped into the touch pool at the aquarium. Funny for me, at least. Mom was not laughing. She kept asking me what I’d said to my sister to make her do it.
Apparently, jumping into the unknown headfirst was cute when I was onstage as Tree Number One, but not so great when Ciara was trying to hug a cuttlefish.
These days I try to think first, but it’s not easy. I’m not a natural planner like Emma. I’ve seen the lists she makes.
Me? I go with my gut and lead with my mouth. (Okay, that sounded dirtier than I meant it).
I don’t always get it right. Like the time I booked a hotel room for Aaron and myself as a surprise romantic staycation, but didn’t account for him getting back together with his ex the night before.
That wasn’t my favorite birthday.
But my gut is telling me that Lincoln is wrong about this. I’ve seen how happy Darcy and Astrid are that he’s here. How eager they are to get to know him.
I slide my hand into his, tugging until he looks at me. “I think they’d surprise you if you gave them the chance.”
He doesn’t answer.
Instead, Lincoln curls his palm around mine, and I try to forget that the last time I tried to hold a date’s hand, they tore it away from me.
“I’m sorry if the roses make you uncomfortable. I can have them cleared out today.”
“What?” I must have misheard him. “No, you will not. They’re beautiful and they were a gift. It’s rude to take a gift back.” I didn’t say it to make him smile, but the sight of it is a relief. “Although now that you mention it, I would like to be able to move in my bedroom again. Come on,” I say, pulling him by the hand to the elevator. “I have an idea.”
CHAPTER22
SHARING IS CARING
IVY
It takes a few hours to clear them out of my apartment.
We carry four bouquets each, going door to door through the building. Only a handful of people answer when we knock, busy with work or a life, or just not in the mood to talk to us (and honestly, I don’t blame them. We probably look like we’re trying to sell them a floral subscription).
