“How much do I owe you?”
“For fucking my face? That was my pleasure. No charge.”
My elbow jerks back and hits the wall of muscles behind me lightly. He chuckles.
“The art.”
“How about, when you come back in, we’ll discuss it?”
I turn around and look up at him, careful to avert my eyes from the body of a god who is holding my skirt. “This was a hookup.” I roll my eyes, trying to play it off that the thought of seeing him naked doesn’t entice the swarm of butterflies in my belly that have begun to dance again, and grab my skirt hanging off fingers that were inside me minutes ago.
He quirks an eyebrow. “Six to nine months later doesn’t exactly constitute a serious relationship.”
“If I can squeeze you into the rotation, I’ll let you know.”
He bends down and grabs my sweater before I have a chance and holds it up. “Must be a small rotation, since I barely squeezed into you, sweets.”
I push my arms into the sweater. “I’ve had”—I pause as he turns me around and steps back, pointing down with a very self-assured look on his face—“bigger.”
“Hard or soft plastic?” he asks.
Both of us try not to laugh but fail.
I turn my back to him then grab my purse from the chair. “I’m paying for the service, not the fuck. How much?”
“I’m not taking your money.” He turns his back to grab his clothes.
“I—”
“Sixty-nine dollars.” He pulls his jeans up. He’s smirking when he turns and looks at me as he pulls his shirt over his head.
I walk out of the room, shaking my head and biting back a laugh, but I unleash a grin. I reach into my purse and grab the envelope out of it from the money I pulled from the bank so Dad wouldn’t see my purchase. Then I drop it onto the counter and walk to the door, where I unlock it, open it and leave.
OH MY FREAKING GOD! I silently scream as I hurry up the sidewalk, hoping to find a cab to take me back to The Empire so I can spill all the tea to my girls.
Six
Artistic Expressions
Tags
What the fuck am I doing? I ask myself as I run barefoot down the street after the sweet treat whose ass and sass I will not soon forget, holding the envelope she tossed on the counter.
She turns the corner, and I start to slow, knowing I’ve probably lost her, but then I decide, fuck that.
When I turn the corner, I spot her and try my best to slow down. She’s got her nose in her phone and doesn’t see me as I attempt to stop myself from running her over. Unable to stop completely, I grab her to make sure she doesn’t fall.
She gasps and looks up at me. “Are you freaking insane?”
My back hits the trash can and stops my fall. “Undecided on a few occasions.”
“What the hell are you doing?” She tries not to laugh then decides against holding it back.
She’s so fucking beautiful that I decide not to hold back either, and I kiss her.
“Oh my freaking God,” she mumbles against my lips.
I pull back, taking her bottom lip with me. When I release it, she shakes her head.
“You’re insane.”
“I told you not to pay until—”
She gasps and begins looking around. “My purse, my phone.”
I hurry over to her purse and see a cab pulling over. With my back still to her, I shove the envelope inside then hurry back to her.
“I have friends waiting for me,” she says, looking at me like she’s confused. It’s cute as fuck.
“I do, too,” I say, opening the cab door for her. “Catch up in six to nine.”
She laughs like I’m joking. I’m not.
“What’s your name, sweets?”
She giggles. “Why?”
“Because I want to know the name of the girl I’ll be beating off to until we meet again.”
“Bella,” she answers as she laughs at me.
I feel like I just got a knee to the gut. The breathlessness, not the pain. Same way I felt when she turned toward me the first time.
“Yours?”
“Miss, do you still need a ride?” the cab driver asks.
“Go. I’ll see you around.”
She slides in and looks out at me.
Fuck.
I shake my head.
She looks disappointed but shrugs then gives me a peace sign before grabbing the door and shutting it.
Fuck.
I take a step back as I watch the cab begin to pull away.
She turns and looks out the back window. I shoot her a peace sign, and she smirks. Then I realize I didn’t lock the shop, so I sprint back to make sure I do.
Bell, peace, freedom … Bella. Paula is going to have a field day with this.
Which is why I will never fucking tell her.
When I walk into the twenty-four-hour fitness center, Sisco is at the counter, chatting it up with one of the girls.
“You’re late as hell, man. I’ve already had a drink, eaten, and worked out.” He laughs, giving me a bro hug. Stepping back, he then looks me up and down. “You dirty dog.”
“I’m just gonna shower off before I go home so the old lady doesn’t flip the fuck out on me.”
“You got a ride?”
“Taking the Nike express home.” I wink.
“You sure, man? I can wait.”
“No. Great last day of freedom ended with one hell of a piece of art.”
“I don’t like that look, Tags.”
“It’s all good.”
Seven
Asshole(s)
Bella
Of course, the greatest sexual experience of my life, with a man—well, I thought he was a man—who warmed me up and made me pop quicker than microwave popcorn, turned out to be a grade-A asshole.
When I found the money in my purse, I got all sorts of stupid.
I don’t do stupid.
I also don’t chase boys; I make them chase me. If they tire at all, take so much as a water break, they’re out.
But this envelope, the one I am carrying, the one he gave me back on the sly, further heating my already hot and bothered self, is now going to be spent on drinks with my girls.
Why? Because I followed him from the shop to a twenty-four-hour fitness center, looking for the perfect time to slip the envelope in his bag, when I heard him tell his buddy, “I’m just gonna shower off before I go home so the old lady doesn’t flip the fuck out on me.”
I, Isabella Steel, not only fucked a hot tattoo artist, which was never on my list of things to do during college, and it literally makes me feel like I may throw up now, but I fucked a married one.
Walking from the bar out to the rooftop, I spot Victoria sucking face with Brian, her douchebag ex’s roommate. Alice sitting on one of the many couches, and Lily is passed out with her head on Alice’s lap.
Alice looks up and waves to me as I walk over.
“Let me see.” She smiles broadly.
I pull my phone from my bag. “Take a picture for me?”