“Do you remember the day at the Mongolian barbecue place when you trussed yourself up to tease me? Let’s see how strong this scarf is.”
I follow his directions and raise my hands while he creates a knot only a Boy Scout would know.
His torment begins at my shoes and ends at my mouth. God bless the book club.
Chapter Twenty-Three
“Good afternoon, Ms. Cross. Head on in, he’s on the phone, but I’m sure he’ll be off in a minute. I ordered you both Asian chicken salads. I hope that sounds okay.”
“It’s perfect, Greta. You’re the best.”
Inside Damon’s office, I walk to the table where lunch sits and take a seat. He continues with a contentious call. His brows furrow while his lips stretch into a grim line. His face is red, starting as a shade of pink at his chin and ending blood-red near his hairline.
The vein that runs down the center of his forehead pulses, which means he’s furious. When he sees me focusing on him, he swings his chair and gives me his back, but I can still hear him yelling under his breath.
“I told you to stop calling me. I’m not interested. Go to hell, Mara.” He hangs up and growls.
Mara … shit. I didn’t expect that, and by Damon’s expression, he didn’t either.
“Should I leave? Do you need time alone to calm down and think?”
“No. If you left, I’d be more stressed. Let me kiss you, and I’ll be fine.”
The minute our tongues meet, I know staying was the right decision. My hands stroke his shoulders until he relaxes beneath my fingertips.
“I don’t know what I’d do if I couldn’t see you every day. I want you every minute. When we’re together, I think about you. When we’re apart, I’m obsessed with you. Tonight will be a living hell not being able to spend the night wrapped around you.”
Tonight is Chinese food with Em. “It’s good to spend time with our friends. Why don’t you call Anthony and hang out? If Em is with me, that means Anthony is by himself.”
“You’re right. I know you need your space.”
“I don’t need space from you, but I need to see my friends. Why don’t we plan on having dinner with Emma and Anthony soon? That way, we won’t have to live without each other at all.”
He hangs his head. “I’ll call him after our lunch and make plans.”
After lunch, I finish my day with Trevor and head home for girly time with Em.
“Is he a show-er or a grower?” she asks as she serves up the Chinese food.
We haven’t seen each other in what seems like weeks, although it’s only been days.
“Definitely a grower.”
She shoves a piece of orange chicken in her mouth and talks around it. “I love a grower. You never know what you’ll end up with.” She swallows and continues. “It’s like those little sponge animals that become massive once you add water. With a show-er, it’s all out there, and often it’s never as good as it looks. Has it been good?”
“We’re basically living together because we can’t get enough of each other.”
“I got you, girl. It’s the same with Anthony and me. Let’s gorge on Chinese food and compare notes.”
The situation with Damon and the call I walked in on has been bothering me all day. I called Em as soon as I got to my desk. Who better to ask than my bestie? When she answered, I gave her the details and asked, “Do you think I should worry about this girl named Mara?”
“You said he yelled at her and told her he wasn’t interested, so I wouldn’t worry. Besides, he’s with you, not with her. You should ask him about her. You have a right to know.”
“Do I? I’m not sure I have a right to his past when all I’m interested in is his future. What’s that saying about opening a can of worms? I don’t want to unleash something I’m not prepared to handle, or he’s not ready to deal with.”
“Don’t be a coward. She’s the can of worms that placed herself and the can opener on his table. She has no place at your table.”
Em has a way with words that confuses me and inspires me, but she’s right. There is no room for Mara in our life.
We snuggle on the couch like we did as kids. She hogs the blanket, and I lean on her shoulder.
She picked the movie Dirty Dancing because it’s one of our all-time favorites. The final dance scene always makes my heart flutter.
Damon doesn’t text, so I contact him once I’m ready for bed.
Hey, sexy, what are you doing? I missed you tonight. I wish you were here. I’m climbing in bed to read Bound and thinking of you.
All my love,
Katarina
I expect to get a return text right away, but I don’t. Twenty minutes later, Em knocks on my door.
“Come in.”
The door opens, but it’s not Em who enters. It’s Damon, and he moves lightning fast toward me.
“I can’t do it. I don’t want to suffocate you, but I want to be with you every chance I can.” He sits on the bed. “I got your text and drove right over. You said you wished I was here. I’m here.”
“I’m glad. Climb in bed. It’s late, and we have work tomorrow.” I yawn before saying, “Before I forget. Should I worry about this Mara girl?”
“No. She’s my past. You’re my future.”
Trevor and I are swamped with menus, accommodations, transportation services, and invitations. These things are like time vampires and suck you dry.
I race to Damon’s office at five, ready to discuss book club and pick out a slip of paper from our naughty bag. Did he write the same things as I did? It wouldn’t surprise me. The longer I’m with him, the more I realize how alike we are.
“Are you ready to go?” I ask, skipping into his office.
“Yes. Let’s grab a pizza on our way and eat in your bed?”
“Pizza in bed?” It’s not our norm, but variety is good. “I can do that. We also need a bottle of wine because I’m celebrating. Tomorrow is my last day of school.”
“We have lots to celebrate, like school ending, your graduation, book club, the opening of Ahz, and our relationship. Life is good, Katarina.”
We pull up to my curb less than an hour later with a large pizza and a bottle of merlot.
Inside Damon’s coat pocket is the naughty bag.
“I want to pick the first time,” I say. “You can pick next week, and if this turns out to be too much fun, we’ll pick more often.” The thrill of the unknown ripples over my skin like fire.
“Okay.” He opens the trunk and pulls out a plain brown box.
“What’s that?”
“Some of my suggestions need props. I ordered items that may come up.”
“Now you’ve piqued my curiosity. Should we skip the pizza and dig right into book club?” I race to the door, unlock it, and beat him to the bedroom.
“Not a chance.” He closes the door behind him. Setting the pizza on my dresser, he flips it open. “You’ll need sustenance. Eat first and read later. To prove I’m flexible, you can choose your poison before you eat.”