“Yes. I would’ve.”
I was putting the pieces together on why North and I didn’t fit when I met Fox. It’s clear now that North and I were on the outs. I’d begun to notice the neglect. A cobweb or two could go unnoticed. Dust settling lightly on the surface could be overlooked. But by the time one broken window turns into two, you’d have to be blind not to question if there’s a problem.
I am not blind.
“Who other than you would’ve offered to have sex with me out of pity in Marge’s former office?”
“That was not pity, honey. That was me using my strengths. I thought I could bad-boy you into sex. It’s sort of what I’m known for.”
“Now bad-boy is a verb?”
“Duh.”
“Let’s not talk about it.” I squeeze my eyes shut as we sway to the music.
“You do not like to think about the women I’ve been with, do you?”
“Don’t be smug.”
“You’re jealous and it’s cute.”
“I’m not cute.”
“You’re fucking adorable. I promise you, mostly it was Beth and me. I didn’t break up with her and immediately bang every chick in a ten-mile radius. Most of the women who brag about sleeping with me haven’t.”
I make another face.
“Celebrity,” he says in explanation. “Lies about my life are not uncommon.”
“And yet you give me the real you at every turn.”
It might be the closest we’ve come to laying out what is happening between us. He can be himself around me. I know his secrets. The things no one else bothers to scratch the surface to find.
“If Beth knew all these amazing things about you, why aren’t you still together?”
“Eh. Lot of water under that bridge.” He shakes his head. “Same way it didn’t happen for North and you, Beth and I had a hard time making it work. We liked each other, maybe even loved each other, but not in an enduring way.”
Hearing that he loved her isn’t unexpected. What kind of stunted male would he be if he didn’t love the girl he returned to over and over for years? I loved North, too. Or I thought I did.
“I guess I fell out of love with North as quickly as I fell in. It sort of...evaporated before either of us realized it.” I frown. “That’s not true. He realized it before I did. Way before I did.”
“Don’t be so hard on yourself. You’re a finisher. You finish things.”
“And you don’t?”
“Not relationships. Not careers. They end up on pause—a still screen that never changes.” He blinks a few times like he’s having an epiphany. Once his gaze is on mine, it stays there. “Until you. With you, I’m in a state of becoming.”
The shock of that simple statement radiates across my chest. I’m in a state of becoming. Is there any greater compliment than knowing someone is growing and becoming someone they wouldn’t be without you?
“I don’t know what to say,” I finally mutter.
He pulls me closer and kisses my temple. “Don’t say anything. Just keep dancing with me.”
Chapter 25
Barrett
By the end of the evening, I want Catarina so bad my chubby has a chubby. We met the governor. We danced. We ate. We drank. She had more champagne. I stuck with beer. She’s chatty and happy and crazy beautiful.
One glass had her smiling, the second had her grinning, and the third has put a sparkle in her eye that shines whenever I slide into her frame of vision.
She’s irresistible.
I’ve never felt such an overwhelming pull of attraction for another person before—not even Beth. In part it’s physical, but there’s more to it than that. Catarina is intelligent, strong, and she knows who she is. Whenever she looks at me, she sees me, you know? She sees the man beneath the man, but she also sees the man I could become.
Trust me when I say not many people have examined me that closely.
The catch in my chest should be a warning to back off. Instead of backing off I give it the finger.
“Now’s the perfect time to leave,” she tells me as we step out of the way of an oncoming dessert cart. “Everyone will be preoccupied with sweets and won’t notice if we’re not here. Unless you want to stay?”
“Are you kidding?” I take in her lithe body draped in a formfitting black dress that only reaches the middle of her thighs. “I need to examine what’s under that dress.”
Her grin is wily, which is typical. Her shrewd intelligence might be the most irresistible part of her.
She takes my hand and pulls, and I follow her across the ballroom. When we arrive at the coat closet, she peeks down the hall in both directions, then opens the door and steps inside. A switch is flipped, dimly illuminating the space.
Remember that chubby I mentioned? Now it’s more like a flagpole. I don’t hesitate stuffing myself into the coat closet next to her and shutting the door behind us. It’s a walk-in, so it’s not tiny, but it’s not exactly big once we’re in there. It’s mostly empty save for purses left behind by a few trusting souls, and a shawl someone must’ve changed their mind about. If that someone returns to retrieve it, they’re going to get an eyeful.
A row of neglected heavy furs and trench coats line the other wall. They must belong to the governor and his wife—it’s way too warm for guests to have worn those tonight. I reroute my date, hiding her behind them. If anyone comes in, they’ll see me, but I don’t give a shit if they find me clothed, or with my pants dropped past my bare ass.
She slides her long hair over her shoulder and turns around. “Zipper, please.”
“You’re sure about this?” I don’t wait for an answer before I slide the zipper south, revealing a red—yes, red—bra strap. That flagpole is more like the Empire State Building. If we’re interrupted, I’m going to have to limp out of here.
“You are so beautiful,” I murmur, smoothing my hands around her ribs. I nestle my erection against her ass.
“Want to see the rest?” She tips her head back and smiles.
I choke on a laugh, which she correctly takes as a yes. Then her dress is off her shoulders and sliding down her waist. Voices outside the door sound and she turns around, dress at her ankles, breasts bursting from red lace, her matching thong’s skinny straps crisscrossing her hips.
“Who is that?” she whispers.
“I don’t care if it’s Mia, the governor, or God Himself.” I nestle her against the nearest fur coat, my hands on her hips. “I hope you’re not allergic to mink.”
“It’s faux fur,” she says as the voices move away. “The governor’s wife is an animal lover.”
“Even better. No dander.”
I kiss her. Hard. Like I’ve been wanting to all evening while we danced and ate and drank and shook the hands of people whose names I’ve already forgotten. Every taut muscle in my body coils as her sweet tongue strokes mine. She has the most incredible mouth—she takes the lead, scraping my bottom lip with her teeth as I groan and grind against her. Her hands grip my belt, undoing it and opening my tuxedo pants. My dick pushes against the confines of my briefs, begging to be touched.