The twins left not long ago to catch up with one of Joel’s friends from Princeton, so now it’s just Blake and me.
“Survived?”
“The afternoon with Sunny,” he clarifies.
I let out a wry huff. “It helped that it was brief.”
She was the first to depart, practically floating out of the dining room halfway through dessert after casually informing the entire table that the cheesecake—or, more specifically, the raspberry coulis—reminded her some guy called Derek was expecting her home any minute.
Thankfully, she seemed to have taken Blake’s comments to heart and toned down her enthusiasm about my new single status, so—for the most part—conversation with her wasn’t quite as grating as it had been earlier. But she’ll never stop being Sunny, and she has a brain-to-mouth filter that could rival Jazz’s for it’s non-existence, whichI can’t imagine would be a quality many people would find endearing in their mother.
“I guess it was a good run?” Blake prods, a hint of intrigue in his tone. “You definitely seemed more relaxedwhen you got back, but also kind of distracted.”
I’m quiet for a moment. It’s one thing to just not bother correcting everyone’s harmless assumption today but it feels weird carrying on the charade now. “Actually,I was just upstairs,” I say with a breath of laughter. “Not sure why everyone thinks I went out for a run.”
Blake’s brows fly into his hairline. “Well…because it’syou.And you were gone for an hour,” he points out. “Seriously? You were in your suite that whole time?”
I shrug. “I wanted to chill out for a bit, so that’s what I did. Had a lie down, took a shower, texted with Valerie…” Everything I’ve said is true—I actually did exchange a few texts with Valerie just before returning to the living room—but there are obviously some gaping holes.
“Everything okay with you guys?” he asks warily.
I smile. “Yeah, everything’s good. Great, actually. For a while I was worried we’d have to give up that part of the relationship as well—like, our only connection would be thekids,” I clarify. “Butwe’ve worked through it and things are really good now.”
“I’m glad to hear it,” Blake says.
For the first time since this whole thing with Jazz started, I take a moment to consider how Valerie would react if I told her. She’d probably laugh herself silly from the sheer absurdity and once she’d finally recovered she’d press me for details. She certainly wouldn’t judge.
My phonebuzzes in my pocket and somehow I justknowit’s Jazz with his promisedinstructions.It’s completely ridiculous how desperate I am to read this text; but I’m going to have to wait because my hands are currently full of expensive crockery.
So I just suck it up and get on with drying the dishes. But then my phone buzzes again. And again. And all I can do is try not to go insane or drop any of these fucking plates while Blake carries on a one-sided conversation about something to do with one of Owen’s brothers and my phone keeps fucking buzzing.
I somehowrememberto say goodnight to Blake before hightailing it out of the kitchen the second he declares the dishes done. As soon as I’m in the privacy of the elevator, I whip out my phone and start reading the texts, my eyes widening when I see how many there are.
“Jesus—it’s not the fucking Bill of Rights…”
Jazz Grimsay
Your homework is to make some more slutty videos and do the same exercise we did this afternoon to assess your thoughts and feelings
But this time make the content more…unorthodox. I’m hard pressed to believe someone with your inclinations doesn’t get a little experimental during your private time so lean into that
Consider the bar to be anything you’d never have thought of doing a month ago
You don’t have to send the videos to me, this is just for your benefit
Do the feelings exercise before you watch the video and then again afterward. Your feelings will probably change with the perspective so I’d suggest writing your observations down
Pay special attention to any feelings of unease or discomfort and try to figure out what could be causing it
Don’t jerk off while you’re watching it, you little slut
I scheduled these texts to come in at 8pm. I sure hope you’re not sitting around watching a movie with your kids or something…
I let outa sputter of laughter, shaking my head. By the time I’m done reading the stream of texts I’ve arrived at my suite; I know there’s not much point replying because Jazz is likely on stage right now but I can’t resist sending one anyway.
Me
So to summarize you want me to film myself doing creepy, messed-up shit…but you DON’T want to see it?
