“Which two?” she asks.
The dynamic between all three of us grows tense as I glance sideways at Julian before looking back at her. “What about me and you?” I ask Freya.
She breaks out in an adorable laugh, covering her lips with her fingers. “Um…yeah, probably.”
I couldn’t fight my smile right now if I tried, so I don’t bother. It feels nice to let it stretch across my face, dimpling my cheeks and making Freya blush.
“I think so too,” I agree. “What about you two?”
Glancing back and forth between them as they stare at each other, I see a fire brewing that is different from the connection Freya and I or Julian and I share. There is animosity turned attraction between them.
When neither of them say anything, just staring at each other for a second too long, I start to worry it was a mistake to ask this question. Julian breaks first, his eyes crinkling with a smile. Freya lets her head fall forward, hiding her bashful expression.
“Is that a yes?” I ask.
Julian quietly mutters, “I’d like to think so.”
“Yeah, definitely angry sex though, right?” she inquires with a wrinkle between her brows.
“Definitely,” he echoes.
Freya picks up her drink again, giving a drunk little hiccup as she takes a sip. I watch as her eyes dance back and forth between me and him. As she sets her glass down, I anticipate her question before she even asks it.
“And you two? If it were just you guys in the elevator for twelve hours…would you?”
I turn toward Julian, and my tongue darts out and licks my lower lip, his eyes tracking the movement. “I don’t know, fancy pants. What do you think?”
His throat moves as he swallows. Then, with a flat, uncaring expression, he softly mumbles, “You wish, tough guy.”
Nudging his leg with mine, I shoot him a wink. “I do wish.”
I watch with pleasure as his cheeks turn a radiant red. Sweeping his gaze away from me, he tries—and fails—to hide the effect I have on him.
He loves when I flirt with him.
As I turn my attention back to Freya, I feel a hand on my leg, just above my knee. Without making it obvious, I cast my eyes downward to see Julian’s long, delicate fingers resting there, gently touching the inside of my thigh.
And I thought I was the one making him squirm.
My cock stirs, the contact causing me to fidget in my seat. And when I look down at the table, I see their fingers gently intertwined.
So she’s touching him and he’s touching me, and this beer is going straight to my fucking head because all I can think now is that I’d like to get out of here and see where else our hands and mouths can take us.
“Maybe…” I say, clearing my throat, “if we were in that elevator just a couple more hours, it would have happened.”
Freya’s eyes meet mine. And Julian’s hand squeezes.
And we need to get the fuck out of here.
“What do you guys say we take this party back to my place?”
“I’m in,” Freya says in a rush, downing the rest of her French 75.
Just then, the server passes us, and I quickly wave her down, pulling my wallet out in a rush. Julian says something to her in French, and she responds with a smile. And honestly, I don’t care what they’re saying as long as it means we can leave quicker.
She pulls out the pad of paper from her back pocket and hands us the bill. Without even looking at it, I pass her three hundredeuros. Then I stand up. The alcohol hits me even harder when I get to my feet. I see Freya sway a little when she bursts up from her chair. The rest turns into a blur. The three of us struggling to get our coats on with laughter, stumbling out the door, climbing into the back of Julian’s car with me smack-dab in the middle.
The ride to our building is quiet and tense. I only register the way his leg continues to press against mine, and when I look at him, I only see the sharp angles of his face and the icy color of his irises.
