“That is Four, my little Persian kitty.”
“He has to be the ugliest—”
I glare at him, daring him to finish his sentence. He doesn’t. Suddenly, tired of the scene (or offended by Jesse’s harsh words), Four ambles back down the hall to my room, leaving us alone. I return to the kitchen and fetch a fork each. When I return with the containers and forks, Jesse frowns at me.
“No plates?”
“It’s going into your belly all the same. I’ll get you a plate if you think it’ll make it taste better.”
He shakes his head. “Containers are fine.”
I hand him his fork and the chicken container, and drop into the couch adjoined to the recliner. “When you want salad, we’ll switch.”
I stab a slice of beet with my fork and pop it into my mouth. It’s not too fresh, but it still tastes alright.
“You should know this is the weirdest thing I’ve ever done,” he admits as he catches a piece of chicken on the end of his fork. He surveys the small piece before it passes his lips and he grinds it between his perfect teeth. “Do you always eat like this?”
I shrug, not wanting to mention the fact that a month ago, fresh warm meals were the norm for me. “I guess.”
“It’s so much easier, isn’t it?”
I guess it is. I’ve never really seen it like that.
“You don’t have to wait for food or pay ridiculous amounts for it.” He bites down on another piece of chicken. “And to be honest, it tastes a hell of a lot better than the food they serve in those places.”
My lips curl as I watch him enjoy living the simple life. He’s always out and about or in the hotel so easy meals must be something he seldom has. I’m glad he’s enjoying it—or at least pretending to so he doesn’t hurt my feelings.
“So, Alix, I know you don’t have a boyfriend, but do you have family?”
I hand him my container and we switch.
“Who says I don’t have a boyfriend?” I ask, sounding a hell of a lot more defensive than I intended to.
Jesse’s face drains its color and it’s hard not to smile at it, or the piece of beet and feta he holds on his fork in front of his open mouth.
I laugh. “I’m kidding. I don’t have a boyfriend.”
Color floods back into his face. “You are a horrible human being.” He eats his beet and cheese. “Family?”
Ugh. This is a subject I don’t want to delve into. It always works me up. “I have them. I don’t need them, but I have them.”
His beautiful brown eyes thin like he’s trying to decipher the meaning behind it. “You don’t need them?”
I stab a piece of chicken and avoid his intense gaze. “Nope.”
My relationship with my family hasn’t always been the easiest. I ditched them the second I legally could and I only go back when they insist I absolutely have to—which also happens to be around the exact same time that they want to celebrate my younger sister for doing something amazing like getting her PhD in Literature.
“I’m sensing a little resentment.” He pries, shifting on the recliner.
“And I’m sensing you have trouble minding your own business.”
His brows pull together. “Don’t get snarky with me. You’re the one who wants to be intimate with each other when the lunches and dinners are over. Knowing a bit more about you will make it a hell of a lot more comfortable for me.”
I knew it. I knew sex was a connection thing with him. I sigh. “Fine. I have a Mom, Dad and a younger sister.” I slip another piece of chicken into my mouth and hand him the container. We switch. “I haven’t visited them in over eleven months and, if I’m being honest, it hasn’t been long enough for my liking. My little sister, Grace, is the pride and joy of my family. She’s perfect in every way. She’s well traveled, she went to college, she’s been valedictorian twice and she received a PhD in Literature eleven months ago. It doesn’t help that both my parents are respected surgeons. I, on the other hand, am a high school dropout who never went to college. I’ve never left the state. I drink too much, spend too much time with my head in the clouds and I never married the one guy my parents approved of.” The last point is bitter on my tongue. “I loved Scott. I really did, but what he wanted and what my parents wanted wasn’t what I wanted.”
The appetite I worked up climbing the stairs has rapidly diminished so I sit my container on my lap. I don’t look at Jesse. He probably thinks I’m crazy harboring a grudge over my family because my sister is the successful one, but I feel like it’s much deeper than that. Parents are supposed to love and nurture all of their children. They’re supposed to support their children no matter what… but mine didn’t and I’m not okay with that. I never will be.
“Alix the brave.” Jesse states.
I look to him and the sincere smile that curls his lips.
“I think it’s very brave of you not to be what your parents want you to be. That’s why you’re so full of life and passion. If you did what they wanted, you’d be like me... tired, passionless and unsatisfied with life.”
I angle my body in his direction. “You’re not happy?”
How can someone like him not be happy? He has everything anyone could ever want.
“I’m happy.” He says. “I’d just be happier doing what I enjoy doing.”
“And what do you enjoy doing?”
The smile on his face fades and he lowers his own container. “It doesn’t matter anymore. I’m thirty-three now and this is all I know.”
“Humor me then.”
Jesse rakes his teeth over his bottom lip. “Alright. Before getting my business degree and majoring in economics… I was studying a Bachelor of Fine Arts.”
He cringes while waiting for my response. I blink at him and he seems almost confused by my reaction.
“This is strange. I’m not used to silence when that piece of information is shared.”
“What reaction do you normally get?”
“Laughter, mostly.”
Laughter? That’s terrible. “What happened? Why did you change your mind?”
He shakes his head. “I didn’t. My father did.”
Oh yeah. He’s practically in the same boat as me… only he did what his father wanted. Again, that explains his lack of passion—lack of life. Every now and then I can coax it out of him with my banter, but it’s almost completely gone. Strangely, my chest aches for him. I’ve never really bonded with someone over controlling parents before so this is new for me… and now I feel bad for making him do something he really doesn’t want to do. The last thing I want is to be like his father.
“We don’t have to do this thing, if you don’t want to.”
He quirks a brow. “You’re giving me an out?”
I nod, expecting him to take the bait and run. “I know you’re not really into it. I shouldn’t be selfish just because you were horr—uh, not playing your ‘A’ game the night we were together.”
Good save.
Jesse sits forward and places his container on the coffee table. His shirt tightens around his back as he hunches and I don’t even pretend that I don’t notice as he taps his index finger against his enticing lip while he ponders my offer.
“No,” he replies after a small eternity has passed. “I agreed to it so I’ll do it. Besides, it’s a nice change of pace.”
He glances around my apartment, eyeing up the bookshelf I had specifically built to frame my wall mounted TV. I figured if I have time to sit down to watch TV, then I have time to read. And let’s face it, reading is so much better for your eyes.
“You really do like to read…” He pushes off the recliner and crosses the room.
I sit forward and place my container on the coffee table. “Oh yeah.”
“I’ve never heard of these books before…” He runs an index finger along the spines of my books and I squeeze my thighs together. The scene is purely pornographic. Jesse glances over his shoulder. “Fifty Shades of Grey?”
I smi
rk. “You should read it.”
With a chuckle, he turns back to the books. A Leap of Faith. Fallen Too Far. Welcome to Sugartown… that sounds erotic.”
I’m grinning now as he reads out all of the paperbacks I know are signed. “Bikers.” I tell him. “Very sexy.”
“And Captive in the Dark?”
“It’s about a girl who was kidnapped, but ends up falling in love with the guy who kidnaps her.”
He gives me that look. The look everyone gives me when I recommend the Dark Duet series. “It’s much more profound and artistic than my description states.”
“And you’ve read all of these?”
“These and more.”
He takes a step back and marvels over my hundreds of novels. “Where do you find the time?”
Such an easy question, I’ve answered it a million and one times. “I don’t find time. I make time.”
Jesse turns around, his awed expression now on me and not on my books. Most would find it unnerving—you’d be surprised how many people hate being looked at. Not me. My chest tightens as my nipples harden and strain against the fabric that encloses them. Thrilling. This is thrilling.
“You’re very inspiring.” He states as he steps closer to me.
Soon enough, he lowers himself into the empty space beside me.
“I’m inspiring? Me and my tiny apartment surrounded by books, not-so fresh food, and a Persian cat?”
“Firstly, I’m not convinced Four is a cat and secondly, yes, you are. Not a lot of people have something they really enjoy… it’s nice to see that someone, somewhere, has a passion they never tire of.”
I’ve been slammed for reading so many books. I’ve been teased and taunted for not knowing how to cook and I’ve been ridiculed for taking in a stray cat I found under a Ferris wheel, but I’ve never been called inspiring. It’s such an overload for my brain—all of it—his smell, his warmth and his words. They hit me like a ton of bricks and I react. I launch myself at him and straddle his thighs between my legs. His pants are still damp and it cools my skin.
“Alix—”
I rake my fingers through his soft hair and crush my mouth to his. My head spins, but even so, I feel his lips stiff and unsure beneath mine. I flick my tongue along his bottom lip, but he doesn’t open his mouth to me. Then again, I didn’t expect him to.
I almost smile.
I suck his bottom lip into my mouth and bite down. With a gasp, his mouth opens and I slip my tongue inside. The second my tongue glides against his, he grips my hips and pulls me harder against his hard body. God, it feels good. My body is on fire. The heat burns white-hot inside of me, forcing my organs to coil tighter and tighter. Finally I’m getting the spark I wanted in the first place. I can feel it emanating from his pores—his excitement, his eagerness—he wants it as much as I do. I trail my fingers down the sides of his face and onto the top button of his shirt. Our lips separate for the briefest moment and all I can hear are unsteady gasps for air. It’s a beautiful sound—a perfect sound. I feel his fingers curl around the hem of my dress and our eyes lock as he slowly inches the fabric higher. As it rises over the curve of my ass, a distinct ringing sound fills the air. Our eyes lock and I pray he chooses to ignore it. I need this now. I need him to be inside me.
“I should get that,” he pants, his hands leaving my dress.
Words can’t even begin to explain the disappointment that is currently coursing through me. I shift my weight off of him and sit back in my spot, as he retrieves his phone from his pocket. I touch my fingers to my swollen lips, and then straighten my hair and dress.
“Hello?” He answers. “Yes. I’m at lunch… okay. I’m on my way.”
He hangs up the phone and taps it awkwardly against his thigh. I avoid eye contact as he blows air from his cheeks. “I have to go.”
Of course he does. I nod and he pushes himself off of the couch before slipping his phone back into his pocket. I watch as he runs the palms of his hands over his shirt, but it isn’t going to help straighten out the creases I’ve created along the bottom. It’s hard trying to hide the pout from my face, but I think I manage as I force myself to my feet. The last thing I want is for him to see my disappointment. To feel such a thing after a single lunch is absolutely embarrassing and completely unwarranted.
I walk with him over to the front door. The silence between us is awkward and I’m willing to bet my skin is as pink as his. As he steps past the threshold, he turns around.
“Call me when you want to plan the next lunch. I’m going to be out of town for the next three days so preferably, after that.”
I nod. “Okay.”
With a subtle smile, he turns back around and proceeds down the stairs. As he disappears around the corner, I shut the door and slump against the hard wood. All of my previous animosity about his lack of experience is gone, replaced by an eagerness to get back to where we started. Why? Because I’m an idiot. Because I’m searching for an adventure in all of the wrong places, and because I want what all of my favorite heroines have… someone who just ‘gets’ me.
Chapter Six
Alix
Cold water streams from the shower jets and my entire body stiffens as its icy runnels wash away my lunch with Jesse. I’m not a fan of cold water, but it’s a ‘go-to’ arousal diffuser for some of my favorite characters.
My fingers splay on the glass and I swear Four is smiling smugly up at me. I always imagine this reaction from him when I do something stupid. I don’t have to be a genius to know I shouldn’t have kissed Jesse, but in my defense, when books come into a conversation I’m pretty much sold. Foreplay doesn’t get much better than that.
Despite the subtle flirting and heavy kiss, I’m not taking a shower because I want to. An hour after Jesse left I received a call from Marise. He asked me to come in… on my day off. Normally, I accept without hesitation, but today when Marise asked¸ it took me a little while to give in. I know the chances of running into Jesse are slim to none, but still. What happened here today was a little embarrassing and to be stopped by a phone call makes it so much worse because your mind wanders, wondering how far it would have gone if there was no interruption. Would we have ended the deal early? Would he have stopped it? Would it clear the air between us from that very first night or make it worse? There are so many ways this problem can go and I can’t sugar coat it. Most of them head south.
Keeping the gossip from Sadie and Marise is going to be hard too, but there’s absolutely no way they can know about it. Sadie might be able to keep a secret, but Marise hasn’t kept a secret a day in his life. If word gets around that I’m ‘seeing’ the boss, who knows what kind of harm it could do. Marise would never spread a rumor or an ‘assumption’ but if he knew for a fact… then he has no reason not to share it with everyone else. With a heavy exhale, I turn and hit the tap. When the water shuts off, the goosebumps that cover my flesh grow more prominent as the cool air clings to me. I have fifty minutes to be ready and at work. I have fifty minutes before I have to put on the fakest smile and pretend I’m still not flustered from a heated session with the boss’s son. Fifty minutes is plenty of time to cool down and gather my wits.
I want one more lunch, two dinners and then the heat. At least now I know he’s capable of heat. Today’s lunch empowered me, but it also terrified me. I don’t think I’ve wanted anything so badly in my life and I don’t think I’ve ever been in a room with a man who can turn all rational thoughts into a stuttering mess of incoherent words.
I push open the shower door and step out onto the mat. Cold water drips from the wisp of hair over my shoulder and runs down my chest. Quickly, I reach for a towel and wrap it around my body before turning to face the mirror. At least my cheeks are no longer pink and my eyes are round instead of thinned and glazed. I tilt my chin a little higher. Today is going to be like every other day at work. You will go, you will have fun and you will tuck all of your dirty secrets behind a fake, red lipped smile. A twitch tugs at the c
orner of my lips. It’s the very first rule in the ‘How to Handle your Problems like a Woman’ handbook I’ve been mentally compiling. It comes in handy when I’ve done something I’m not proud of…
Like now.
***
The hotel is buzzing. It’s busier than I’ve ever seen it. I move quickly, careful not to bump into any drunken customers as I make my way to the bar. Marise, Sadie, and two new girls man the main bar. It hardly seems like I’m needed. If they’re pulling another ‘call her into work when she’s not needed’ prank, I’m going to be pissed.
“Alix!” Marise calls as he slides a beer across the bar. “Go to the lounge bar. They’re all new and need to be supervised.”
Instinctively, my shoulders slump. I really don’t want to work the lounge bar on a day I don’t have to. The drinks in there always take longer to make. Lounge bar customers are only there to relax so they tend to skip the beers and go straight for the Lemon Drops, Manhattans and Cosmos. I hate making Lemon Drops, Manhattans, Cosmos and any other beverage that takes more than four ingredients to make.
I feel the fake smile slip from my face as a scowl quickly falls into place. Who sticks new bartenders in the lounge bar without supervision anyway? I hug my coat tighter around me and press on toward the other bar.
Thankfully, it’s not as busy in here. No one is really lingering around the bar and I hope it’s because they already have drinks, and not just because the service sucks. As the thought passes and I approach the bar, a boy from the night Jesse and I met, drops a cup of ice, sending the cold cubes scattering across the bar. I slip out of my coat and hang it over my arm before running the palms of my hands over my pencil skirt. Please, don’t let him remember me.
“Clean it up and wipe down the bar. It’s filthy.” I say, glancing away from his face.
And by filthy I mean wet. The bar is wet and it shouldn’t be. No one is going to want to rest on a bar that is wet. With a nod, the boy scoops up his ice cubes and drops them in the bin. If it weren’t for the groomed facial hair, I’d have thought him too young to work here… he barely looks older than seventeen.