“That’s easy to say when you’re used to having it. When it’s never been an issue.” I hear him swallow hard. “But it would be an issue for us. It just would.”
“If we were together?”
“Yeah. If we were together, beauty.”
“I already feel like we are,” I whisper. “Don’t you?”
“Yes,” he rasps. “God. You already feel like mine. Felt like mine the second I saw you.” We’re both panting and my free hand is roaming up and down my hip, playing with the side band of my panties, goosebumps shivering hotly on my skin. If he was here, I would give myself to him, no question. I would surrender everything. Just let him take and take and take his fill. “Gracie…if it means anything to you, I’m trying to go legit. There are ways I can make money fighting. Maybe even a lot more than I am now. There’s a manager that has been sniffing around, trying to sign me for a while. I called him last night when I got home. I don’t know if it could lead to anything. I’ve always just fought because it’s all I know how to do and it puts cash in my pocket, but I do love it. I love it…and now? I’ve got a reason to try and make something happen.”
My chest crowds with pressure. “You called the manager for…me?”
“Would it scare you if I did?”
“No.”
“Then hell yes I did it for you. I’d sell my soul for a real shot at making you mine.” I hear a soft thud and imagine his forehead hitting a wall. “But even if I can make money boxing, beauty…I’m still from the wrong side of town. That’s never going to change.”
“I wouldn’t change a single thing about you.”
“Pretty sure your father will feel differently.”
“I don’t care.”
“You do care,” he says in a burst. “You just got finished telling me you want to be a teacher, but you’re going into finance, instead. Because he wants it. You’re home on a Saturday because he demanded it.”
I recoil like I’ve been slapped.
Not because of North’s words.
No. It’s the realization that he’s right. I’ve known for a long time that I’m behaving like a puppet on a string. When my father says jump, I ask, “how high?” I’m working toward a life I don’t even want because Simmons Foster has decreed that’s the way it will be. I’m eighteen now. An adult. And yet I obey without question. Like a child without a will of her own.
“Fuck, Gracie. I’m sorry. That came out wrong—”
“No. No, you’re right. If he knew you drove me home last night…or that we’re talking on the phone, he’d lose it. He wouldn’t consider how you make me feel. He disregards anything that isn’t part of our glitzy little world. It’s wrong. But you’re right, North…I do care too much what he thinks. What he wants from me.”
“I have some balls telling you you’re wrong in any way. Look at you. Good grades, senior class president…I’m in awe of you. Forget what I said, okay? You’re doing everything right—”
“I’m not doing what I want to do, though.”
He’s quiet for several seconds. “What do you want?”
I sit up in the center of my bed, rubbing at the crushing sensation just below my collarbone. “Right now, I want to see you again.”
“Then come to me, Gracie. Now. I’m waiting.”
My eyes fly to the clock and I wince inwardly. “I’m stuck here all afternoon, by order of my father. After that, there’s a dinner with some of his associates. I have to be here. Maybe after?”
“I’m fighting tonight…” He curses. “I don’t want you in the Hellmouth again. I won’t be able to concentrate for worrying about you.”
Disappointment almost collapses me. My God, how am I already in so deep with this man? It’s like my continued existence is hinging on the next time we see each other. There’s a desperate clawing in my throat, my body on edge, needy. Am I addicted to him already? In such a short time? “What about tomorrow?”
“Yes. Tomorrow,” he says thickly, as if he’s having the same withdrawals. “I have to help my sister in the afternoon with her science project. Then we could meet—”
“Wait, whoa. Science club geek right here. Remember?” I tuck some hair behind my ear, worried I’m being too eager. “I could…help? With the project?”
North doesn’t answer right away. “You’d do that?”
Relief sails through me. Of course I wasn’t overstepping. This is North. “Of course I would. Just text me your address and I’ll…see you tomorrow?”
“Fuck, Gracie.” Three soft thuds in the background, as if he’s rapping his forehead off the wall now. “How am I going to survive until then?”
I’m not sure where the wicked idea comes from. Maybe because his voice in my ear has made my entire body feel touchable and delicate. I look down at myself, clad only in panties since I was getting ready for a shower when he called. “Maybe a picture of me would help?”
His exhale is rocky. “God yes. Please.”
I slide off the bed and enter my en suite bathroom, flipping on the light. I’ve never done this before. I’ve always kind of rolled my eyes at friends who send nudes to their boyfriends. But I’ll never eye roll them again, because oh my God, it’s thrilling. I’m almost shaking from the anticipation and the illicitness of the whole act. “Are you going to send me one back?” I ask.
“I’ll do anything you want.”
Staring at my reflection in the giant bathroom mirror, I watch my teeth sink into my bottom lip. Watch the rosy flush appear on my cheeks. And I hardly recognize myself. “I want one of you. Not…I-I’m not asking for everything to come off. Just, um…”
“You want my shirt off, beauty?”
I swallow, but it gets stuck. “Yes.”
There’s a rustle of fabric in the background. “You like my body, Gracie?”
“I love it,” I whisper.
“You want to know why?” His voice is getting thicker. More sensual. So masculine that every one of my stomach muscles coils in response. “You might be a virgin, but your pussy knows what a workhorse looks like. I’ll go round after round on that tight, little thing without busting. You’ll be exhausted and dripping with sweat by the time I come. That’s why you like my body. Your pussy knows what’s up, even if you don’t yet.”
A whimper escapes me. My thighs are shaking by the time he’s finished speaking. I can barely find the wherewithal to say, “Yet?”
His low growl sends a fresh dose of lust through me. “I’m going to go to hell for taking what can never really belong to a poor man like me. But you come to Southie tomorrow, beauty? See if I can fucking stop myself from getting on top of you.”
“I’ll be there,” I manage, hanging up, before I do something pitiful like moan into the receiver. Oh my God. This guy…he makes me feel like someone else. Someone better. With more agency. More excitement. And I don’t want the feeling to end.