And I do intend to take it there eventually. I want to make it very clear to both of them that the sex between us could be amazing. But for Julian and me, this kiss means that whatever happens with her, we’re in.
When we both feel the kiss come to an end, we gently pull away just a few inches. As we breathe the same air and linger just close enough to still touch, he whispers, “We should probably call it a night.”
“Okay,” I reply on a breath. “I’ll crash out here.”
“You sure?”
I nod. “Yeah.”
Julian peels himself from my lap, and it feels cold without him. There’s a blanket on the back of the couch. I drape it over my legs as I recline on the sofa. Onyx makes herself comfortable on my chest, and I watch Julian walk through the darkness toward his room.
Before leaving, he turns back toward me. “Thanks.”
I stifle my smile as I reply, “For what?”
“For not shaming me for what I like. For letting me show you.”
“I’d like you to show me more,” I say sleepily.
“Me too,” he murmurs before disappearing around the corner.
Lying in the dark living room with the feel of Julian’s lips on mine, I relive the entire evening. I can’t remember the last time I felt as happy in the moment as I am with these two. For someone who usually has one foot out the door, these two have me feeling like I might want to stay right where I am.
With that thought and a black cat purring on my chest, I drift off to sleep.
Rule #12: Never mix business with pleasure.
Freya
There should be a name for the first thought that entersyour head the morning after drinking a lot. That first sober reflection when you have to get your bearings, a slew of anxiety rolling in all at once.Where am I? What did I do last night? Was there sex involved? Oh God, what did I do?
As I peel my eyes open, staring at a foreign window from a foreign bed in a foreign house, I let the events of last night course through my mind, play by play.
We were at the restaurant. I was holding Julian’s hand. There was urgency to get back to his apartment. Then the car ride…and it all goes dark.
Lifting the covers, I stare down in relief at my still-clothed body. I’m seemingly alone, which is another good thing, I guess.
I’ll deliberate later on what exactly would have happened if I hadn’t passed out in the car. That’s just too much to process right now.
Instead, I peel the covers back and climb out of the bed. There’s an attached bathroom, and when I walk into it, I find a brand-newtoothbrush still in the package on the counter as well as some toothpaste and tiny luxury brand soap bottles like they have in five-star hotels. The shower looks like it’s made of black marble and hasthreeshowerheads, so I’d be a fool not to take advantage of that.
Stripping off my clothes, I turn on the water and step under or ratherintothe spray coming from both sides and the ceiling. It’s like standing in a warm waterfall. I could stay here for hours.
Being in this shower makes me think of what Julian and Archer said in the elevator that night, about the downsides of growing up wealthy, and honestly, I want to havenopity for them and their luxurious upbringing, but do fancy showers, designer suits, and luxury sports cars really make up for the way they both seem so…empty?
Without any true struggle in their lives, they’ve become so desperate for life that Archer is voluntarily beaten up in abandoned Métro stations and Julian has the personality of a skittish house cat. He has to screw strangers in a club because he’s so afraid of letting people get close to him.
I find myself wondering what it might be like to marry a man like either of them. You certainly wouldn’t catch me complaining about being rich. I’d enjoy every damn second.
But then again…I’ve seen the true joy on my mother’s face when she got to enjoy a hard-earned holiday in Hawaii after not having one for nearly ten years.
Is one truly better than the other?
I guess the real question here is…would my restaurant feel like as much of an accomplishment if I took the money they offered to buy it?
Does that even matter? I’d be a fool to pass it up, wouldn’t I? Who cares about pride? If I have the chance to bring my food to the world, I should take it.
I wash up with the jasmine-scented soap someone left on the counter. Then I turn the shower from heaven off and climb out, wrapping myself in the plushest, comfiest towel I’ve ever touched.
