My panties aren’t wet.
They should be. While I’m sitting across the table from Mr. Franklin Banes, my ex-boss, my panties should be dripping. And they’re not.
There’s no sizzle. No boom-boom. No tingly spine or somersaulting stomach.
Well, this is fvcking disappointing, isn’t it? I’ve only crushed on the guy since he became my manager a year and a half ago. I’ve only wanted in his pants since he walked through the goddamn door. And now that we’re on a date, that crush has disappeared, right along with my attraction.
Lost: one libido. If found, please return to my lonely, attention-deprived nest.
I suppose I should be thankful that this is the end of the date—and that there is no attraction. Franklin doesn’t strike me as a no-strings kind of guy. That doesn’t wash with me. I hate strings. Strings make things sticky.
It’s kind of a shame though. I mean, he wouldn’t be a bad guy to have strings with. Sowhat if his messy, dark-blond hair and pair of blue eyes are more fitting of California than Seattle? He’s stable. Steady. On one course without any intention of veering off—unlike me.
I get the feeling that, if Franklin hit a crossroads in his life, he’d know exactly which turn to take. Me? I’d dance around like a motherfucking fairy and change my mind ten time
“So, I’ll call you?” Franklin says, moving some hair from my face
Damn. The ‘call you’ question. “Sure,” I reply, trying to sound perky. Is it bad that I’m trying to work out how quickly I can change my number? Oh, god. It’s so bad.
“Great.” He smiles and dips his face toward mine before I can turn away. His lips touch mine, soft and warm but…boring.
I grip his shirt and step into him. Waiting, hoping, for something… Something sizzly. Sparky. Va-va-voomy. When, after a minute of brushing lips, my body is as flat as it was ten minutes ago, I move away.
“Thanks for tonight. It was fun.” I smile and duck into my taxi before he can say another word. Oh, god.
What kind of person lusts after someone for a year and a half then suddenly doesn’t?
Me.
There’s no reason I should be surprised. I bolt at the first sign of anything stronger than one night. I guess my hormones finally got that memo.
I lean back into the seat and stare out the window. Yes, it’s for the best that my vagina forgot to clench and get all excited when he walked into the restaurant. After all, he was late. Who’s late to a date? That’s my job.
I’m totally trying to justify this bullshit turn of events.
I throw a couple of bills into the driver’s lap and get out of the car to his call of, “Thanks, darlin’!” I let myself into my apartment block and press the elevator button repeatedly. Stupid thing is so slow.
“Now, if you’re home, I know that date was bullshit, darling.”
I turn at the sound of the disappointed voice and grin at Banes. “You have no idea. It’s like doing while getting no pleasure at the end of it.”
“On the contrary, I think that’s exactly what happened.”
“What? No. I didn’t do with him.” I step into the elevator after him.
“Well, there’s a first time for everything.” He examines his reflection in the mirrored walls. I smack his arm.
I smack his arm. “Are you calling me a sl^t?”
“Never.” He flashes a smile at me. “What happened?”
I sigh as the doors open. “ Franklin wasn’t all that after all. He was late, he tried to order for me, and the pre-cab kiss was all…lackluster. It was like having my first kiss all over again.”
Sean smacks his lips together. “I think your problem is Mr. Tall, Dark, and Handsome.”
A low flutter erupts in my lower stomach at the mention of Mr. TDH. And don’t forget the Oh So Englishman. I clap my hand over my tummy to stop that stupid feeling.
“Yes. He’s my problem. The guy whose name I don’t know but fucked anyway. I forgot the part where he’s consuming my every thought.”
Sean shrugs and opens his apartment door. “Wine?”
Well, I’m not turning down that offer after Disaster Date. Sometimes, living opposite a gay guy with a wine collection bigger than my shoe collection is really good for the soul. Not so good for the liver, admittedly, but good for the soul.
I close his door behind me and kick off my shoes, dumping my purse unceremoniously on the floor next to the nude heels. Bane's sofa creaks as I fall back into the plush leather and swing my legs up.
He shoots me a dirty look and hands me a glass of wine. I take it with an eye roll.“So tell me again why Mr. Dreamboat is so bad.”
“Crap,” I mutter, reaching for my shrilly ringing cell. “Hello?” I groan into the receiver without looking at the caller ID. “Brenda.” My agent’s voice filters down the speaker. “I have some bad news.”
“Sara. Underwear. What’s my color scheme?”I sigh. Boy. Note to self: don’t ever be late when Nina is doing your makeup. She goes all stylist-zilla.
Well, this is awkward.And I don’t mean nervous-giggle awkward. I mean turn-around-and-run-for-your-fvcking-life awkward.
I cough and he looks up. He grins, unapologetic, and a dimple appears on his cheek. “The shoot?” I question, drawing on every bit of strength I have inside me to deal with this. “Are you ready to start?” Nope. I’m ready to click my heels and see if I’ll magic the hell out of here. “Yes. Where do you want me?” Wrong question. Wrong question. Something flickers in his eyes—lust. “On the bed.” Wrong answer. Wrong answer. I walk across the room and climb onto the bed. His eyes follow me the whole time, and I see him slowly raise the camera to his eye out of the corner of mine.
It’s a light touch, one I should barely feel but one I feel prickling all over my skin. The kiss is slow and sweet, and my hand betrays me by finding his shirt and fisting the material.“Yep, this is very unprofessional.”
I met his gaze as he let go and pulled away from me. I immediately felt empty and cold, and I pushed that feeling away as he rolled off the condom and discard it in the adjacent bathroom.My gaze followed him as he dressed, and he turned to face me. “I'll go downstair
Easy breathing, easy stretching, calming thoughts. I haven’t done any yoga in a while, but the urge overcame me this morning to get out my mat and do it. A coping method I pull out when things get a little murky. When that addiction nudges at the back of my mind.We a
My lips formed a wide grin. “Okay. I think my need for information is sated. For now.” “Good. And now I guess we have to get to my gritty stuff, right?” I nodded. “I fessed up. Now it’s your turn.” “Okay.” He grabbed his mug of tea and drunk half of it before setting it back on the table. He settled his arms around me again, linking his fingers on my back, and looked up. “Let’s see… When we were little, Mish and Aaron were constantly following our parents around. They wanted to know every last bit of the business. My dad tried for about a year to get me interested, but I just didn’t care. I didn’t have the right head for it. “Then we got older, and while they started internships and work experiences, I started sleeping with girls. Yeah. I was that knobhead.” He laughed. “I studied photography at A-level in college just to make up the number of courses I needed to take and fell in love with it. It was so calm and quiet compared to my rowdy, devil-may-c
He pulled on his pants and I grabbed some shorts and a T-shirt from my room. When I came back out, Ivan handed me a cup of coffee and grabbed his cup of tea. I smiled as we settled on the sofa, facing each other, my legs hooked over his. He tugged the coffee table closer so we could reach from this position. Then he wrapped his arms around me and linked his fingers behind my back.“Okay. Just…talk,” he said.“Um. Okay.” I settled my fingers against the top of his stomach. The lump in my throat was the only thing stopping bile coming up—I knew it. “Well, I went to my parents’ house yesterday. I needed to get out of the city to think. Of course, my batshit crazy nana was there, so I got more of an ass-kicking than I did thinking. But anyway, she made me realize that you have to face your fears if you’re ever going to get over them. So. Here I am. Fear-facing.”Ivan’s thumbs stroke my back gently, a
Tyler, sitting on the floor, his back against my door, throwing a tennis ball at the wall opposite him. One of his legs was bent up, the other stretched out. I watched him throw the ball, catching it one-handed every single time.I opened my mouth to talk to him, but he beat me to it.“I’ve been sitting here like a fucking idiot for about four hours. I have no idea why. At first, I thought you were in. Then I remembered you went out of town. Fuck knows where. No one will tell me where or why you went. So I sat down and started playing with this. Hit your neighbor’s door a few times. He invited me in, but I said I’d rather sit here. Got hungry and ordered pizza.” He knocked on the box next to him. “Sat here like a fucking teenage boy hung up on some girl he’s never gonna get.”My chest tightened when he looked at me. I’d never seen his eyes so empty, so dull.“That’s what I think. You know t
“I nearly lost my life!” I almost shouted. “How is that nothing? What if, next time, it’s worse? What if, next time, I do lose?”Nana’s face softened, but her eyes hardened. She leaned forward in her chair and pointed a wrinkly finger at me. “You listen to me, my girl, and you listen to me well. You’re not afraid of committing. You’re not afraid of hurting anyone. The thing you fear is weakness. It’s commendable, really, but also complete crap. The only person you’re hurting is yourself—and this boy. You’re stringing you both along because of your naivety. That’s what it is. What you are. Naïve. You think love pops up for every Tom, Dick, and Harry?”Her words stung.“It doesn’t. It isn’t something you can throw around. If you can sit there and tell me it wouldn’t kill you to walk away from him, then that’s exactly what you should do.&rdqu
“You look like you have a face slapped with a wet fish,” Nana said. “Have you been salmon fishing?”“It’s not salmon season, Nana,” I replied. “And I don’t fish.”“Not salmon season? It flamin’ well is! A bit cold for July though. Hey, Steve. Put the heat on. I’m turning into a snowman.”I raised an eyebrow at Mom. “July? Nana, it’s March.”“No, it’s July. I specifically remember arranging my next visit here for July.”“Mother,” Mom said softly. “You did. We talked about it yesterday. You said you’d come back in July.”Nana blinked at her. “Oh. Did we?”Mom noded. “Yes. You said you wanted to come up in salmon season because you wanted fresh salmon.”Nana tilted her head to the side. “Oh. Oh, all right. That would explain the temperature. Still, get t
“I don’t know his past and he doesn’t know mine.”“Because you’re refusing to talk about it. Yeah, we talk. Just because we’re guys doesn’t mean we don’t talk about this shit. I called him a hundred times with Dayton—he’s more like my brother than anything. I know how he feels about you, Brenda. He’s told me. And let me tell you if you’d asked me six months ago if I ever thought he’d be this serious about a woman, I would have laughed at you.” His lips twitch. “I did laugh when he told me. I thought he was kidding, but he isn’t.”“It’s not just a snap decision. I can’t clap my hands together and know. I’m not holding off to protect myself. I’m doing it to protect him.”“Ivan’s a big boy. He can protect himself. I’ve seen him do it several times.”I put my face in my hands then ran my finger
I stifled a yawn as I followed Aaron around the new bar. They landed back in Seattle minutes after Ivan and I did, and Day took one look at me and told Aaron to bring me there.She’d taken Ivan to get coffee, and I sworn, if she was pulling her matchmaking shit, I would kill her.“What do you think?” Aaron asked.I looked around the building. Then, it was carnage in there. Builders were everywhere. There was dust and wooden planks and whatever in every single possible place. But looking at the plans in my hand—Aaron’s vision—I saw it.“I think it’s gonna be the best damn cocktail bar in the city,” I said honestly.“Good answer.” He grinned. “It should be ready to go in two weeks. When do you have to tell Donny you’re leaving?”“I’ll go by when I leave here and tell him. I’ll give him a week’s notice then take a week off.”
“I’m not afraid of relationships. I have an addiction to sex, not a phobia of commitment.” His words stung. They did. Right from my head to my toes. “But yes. That’s the main reason I never pursued a relationship in London. Everyone there knew who I was and what I was worth. Here in Seattle, well. I guess I just never found someone worth having a relationship for.” His gaze burning into me. “Until now,” he finished. “I wish I could be that girl.” My words were so quiet that they were practically a whisper. It was true. I wished I weren’t afraid. I wished I could tackle him with the impulsiveness I tackled Aaron’s new bar with. I wished I could throw every piece of bullshit away and gave him the thing he wanted because He deserved it. He deserved happiness. He deserved smiles and security and certainty. Something I couldn’t offer. Ivan reached across the table and linked his fingers through mine. He lifted our ha
I said nothing, letting the moment linger. Letting his words hover between us, embracing them, holding on to them…getting addicted to them. To the underlying current of power in every syllable. To the smooth way he strung them all together and the way he never stopped to take a breath. To the inflection in the word ‘yours.’ Addicted to the way he didn’t have to think for a second about saying them. Addicted to the way they were making me feel. Safe. Warm. Cherished. Protected. Owned. I took a deep breath that shuddered through my body. The combination of his breath mingling with mine and the tingle of his palm against my neck was heady and intoxicating. The dizzy from his words and the response they’d elicited inside me, I wanted to give in. I wanted to tell him yes. I wanted to tell him we could do that. That, despite our addictions, two opposite poles, we could make it work. But I didn’t. I couldn’t—because I