by Rowan Shaw
His eyes riveted to his book, Raphaël clicked his tongue, his plump mouth thinning into a line. "Will you spend the night?"
"No, just a couple hours."
"When you're with him, do you fuck him hard, or do you make love to him like you do with me?"
I took a long breath, trying hard to keep my cool. "Is that what the problem is?"
He gazed at me at last, and when he did, I almost wished he didn't. His eyes were filled with barely concealed pain and resentment. I'd caught him looking at me like that a few times before, but only when he thought I couldn't see him.
"Why do you need to know?" I added.
He'd never asked such detailed questions before, at least not since the day he found out what I did for a living.
"Because I do," he replied sadly.
The hurt in his voice pinched at me hard. I didn't like the feeling one bit. "When I'm with you, it's different than with anybody else," I tried to reassure him.
"Different than with Noah?" His teeth clenched almost imperceptibly. "I saw how you were around him when he was here the one time. You can't make me believe that's just sex."
"I like Noah, but it's not the same."
"How so?"
I couldn't say the words, no matter how much he needed me to. I couldn't tell him how much I cared about him because I didn't want to give him false hopes.
"You like them too," he added, "so obviously, it's the same as when you're with me."
I shook my head. "It's not."
His fierce eyes turned to me again. I could barely take the anger seeping out of him.
"I don't care about them like I care about you," I tried to reassure him. "I thought you knew that."
"If you say so."
I didn't know how to get out of this one, so I changed the subject. It was cowardice on my part, but I didn't want him to demand that I delve into my feelings for him. That was something I was not ready for, even if I knew I'd started falling for him somewhere along the way.
"I was considering visiting the Loire Valley, and I was wondering if you'd like to come along?" I asked, trying hard not to make it sound like more than it was.
I wasn't sure if he could join me because of his job, but I'd already asked Daniel for a few days off myself. I was only planning this vacation to be with Raphaël. I'd been looking forward to spending time with him alone. His classes were starting again in September, which was two weeks away from now. This would be our only chance for a while.
"When would that be?" he asked.
"It's last minute, but I was thinking next week. I asked for some time off."
"You're allowed some time off? Your clients won't freak?" he asked, his face still closed off.
"I can take time off whenever I want, Raphaël. It's a real job like any other job. I'm legally allowed five weeks off a year like everybody else in this country. My clients can hire someone else from the agency."
Of course I knew they wouldn't.
It didn't mean I was stuck, though.
I'd rarely ever taken time off before, except for last winter when we visited Raphaël's family. Daniel already found the whole thing suspicious back then, especially when he knew I had no family to visit—an excuse I'd thought of using until I realized I couldn't. Instead, I'd told him I was tired and needed to rest. He took that as meaning I felt down and should lay off the job for a while. He didn't protest. I knew he wouldn't. He could be a real pain in my ass sometimes, but he never joked around when it came to my health.
"I can't," Raphaël replied. "I invited Florian to come over for a few days."
"Oh." Well, he'd definitely forgotten to advise me about that. "When?"
"Next week. It's last minute too. Sorry. I hadn't heard from him in a while, so I thought it'd be nice to meet up. He's finally dumped his girlfriend."
My heart deflated. I didn't like how Raphaël felt the need to point out that Florian was single, nor how elated he was about it.
"Is he staying at the hotel?" I asked, pretending nothing was the matter.
"I figured he could take my room, and I could sleep on the couch."
"The couch? Isn't my bed comfortable enough anymore?"
I watched as he grew uneasy.
"It's just..." he started and stopped.
I gave a curt nod. "I see. You haven't told him about me...or us..."
Raphaël rubbed the back of his neck. He didn't have to tell his friends about me, really. It wasn't like we were a couple. But I didn't see why he had to make it such a national secret either. We were two consenting adults, for fuck's sake. There was nothing shameful about what we were doing.
I winced when I realized what was truly going on. "Okay. I get it."
I grabbed the keys to my motorcycle, ready to go out, but Raphaël grabbed my wrist.
"Don't take it like that. What am I supposed to say? 'You'll meet my roommate. Don't be surprised if you hear us fucking at all hours of the night. Also, don't find it weird if he's almost never home. That's just part of his job as an escort.' Is that what you expect me to tell people?"
I sighed. I couldn't be frustrated with him because he had a point, though the stigma around my job was getting seriously old. "Do whatever makes you comfortable. I'll be back later."
For the first time in a long time, I left the apartment without kissing him. My heart fell heavy, and I didn't like what that meant. I knew this situation between us couldn't last. I knew I had nothing more to offer him than what I already did. I couldn't ask him for more either. But I'd been a fool to believe we could just fuck without growing feelings for each other.
I was screwed beyond belief, and I had no clue how to pull out of this mess. I didn't want to let him go, but I couldn't claim him as mine either. Not unless I was willing to give myself to him completely. And now his best friend was coming to town. Raphaël had told me everything about all the times they'd fucked, including their threesome. It bothered me to think Raphaël may want Florian here for more than just a friendly visit.
Chapter 47
RAPHAËL
When Adrien still wasn't home around midnight, I knew his client had asked him to stay longer than just a couple of hours. I didn't feel like waiting for him. No matter how much I loved the sex between us, it tore a part of me each time he penetrated me, knowing he'd been with someone else that very same day. I'd tried to pretend I didn't care, but that was at the beginning, before I'd started to develop feelings for him.
I went to my room and changed into nothing but my briefs, then slipped into bed. I hadn't spent the night here in months. The sheets felt cold around my skin. I hated the sensation. It only fed into my loneliness. The door creaked open, telling me Ila had decided to join me. I wasn't sure if she missed him and resented him for it as much as I did, but she'd grown closer to me. She jumped on my bed as I turned off the light, and she began to claw my comforter, purring loudly before curling into a ball at my feet.
I closed my eyes and tried to sleep, but Adrien was all I could think about. Him and his flesh against mine when we came together. How fast my heart beat every time he touched me. And how good and safe I felt when I was with him—an illusion shattered every time he left for work. I couldn't stop imagining him and other guys doing the same things we did, and thinking about that ripped pieces of me every time. Though I knew he fucked people of all genders, picturing him with men tore me apart more than anything else. I wanted to stop. I wanted to stop caring so damn much. I wanted to stop craving Adrien, but this need for him consumed me to the bone.
I'd done this to myself in spite of all his warnings, but I still wanted him too much to let go and move on.
The rest of the week didn't get much better. My mood worsened, and I avoided Adrien on most nights. I couldn't wait to see Florian and hoped being around him might help me clear my head and get over my compulsion to be with Adrien.
Of course, I was a fool to believe the solution would be that easy.
Seeing Florian again did bring back a my
riad of memories, though. It was a relief to have him over. I couldn't believe he was dating Enzo again. I hadn't seen Enzo since high school. It was weird, and yet their relationship felt so natural. When I thought about it, they had always belonged together even if life tried its best to set obstacles in their way. I envied what they had—belonging to each other so completely there was no fear of anyone else ever interfering.
"I can't thank you enough for making him see the light," I told Enzo over breakfast on their second day in Paris. "Marlène was such a bi—"
"Yeah, yeah," Florian shot back, flicking his hand at me.
I hated his ex with a passion, and he knew it. Marlène was a snake and a narcissist. I should have never let him date her in the first place. Had I known how she would treat Florian, I'd have insisted on keeping our deal and fucking his brains out instead of letting him go out with her.
"So where is Guy now?" I asked. Florian had told me he'd walked in on Marlène fucking his previous roommate from college. The whole thing spiraled into a shitfest when Guy attacked Florian's business before taking his anger out on Marlène.
"He's being prosecuted."
"And Marlène?"
"She's recovering."
I couldn't fathom why he still cared what happened to her, but I'd read enough articles about narcissists to know their clutch on their victims was strong and almost impossible to break.
Florian took a bite of his biscotte covered with butter. The smell of coffee permeated the air around us, along with his strong cologne.
"She claims she's still in love with me. Probably some kind of manipulation to get me back now that I'm gone. But I've moved on, you know," he reassured me.
"About time," I thought but didn't speak my mind.
When Florian looked at Enzo and grinned at him, Enzo responded with a tiny smile, the scar in his cheek digging deeply into his white skin while his brown hair fell over his forehead, almost reaching his brown eyes. Florian grabbed his hand, shooting him an affectionate look, then he gazed at me with his dark blue eyes, his blond hair still wet from his shower.
"Are we going to meet your roommate today or what?" he asked.
I shrugged. Classic rock was blasting from Adrien's studio, but I knew better than to bug him when he was painting. He didn't seem well last night. Though he didn't say anything, I could tell something was wrong. I blamed myself for letting him fuck me in spite of how I felt, but I could never stand to see him in pain. A part of me always had to soothe him even if it came to my own detriment.
I figured it was best not to force any company on him this morning—better for him and for myself. He was probably upset we didn't go to the Loire Valley, though I couldn't figure out why. He had work that came up, so it wasn't like he'd be able to leave. I was confused by all his mixed signals, how he kept wanting to keep this thing between us to sex only but then asked to take me places and spend time together outside the bedroom.
Florian took a sip of his coffee, observing me from the corner of his eye. "You didn't tell me you two were fucking."
I nearly choked on my drink.
He let out a laugh. "Come on, Raphaël. D'you really think I couldn't hear you two last night going at it for hours? You could have warned me, you know? We would have stayed at the hotel."
Enzo lowered his head, his nose almost buried in his cereal. His face flushed all the way down to his neck, so I assumed he'd heard us as well. Though he wore a cochlear implant, I thought he took his processor off to sleep in silence at night, but apparently I was wrong. He signed something at Florian that I couldn't understand, and Florian replied out loud, "I'm not being rude." He looked at me. "Am I?"
I cleared my throat. "No, you're not rude. I'm sorry we were so loud. I didn't realize..."
The truth was when I was with Adrien, it got so damn hot between us, I usually forgot where I was. The sensations were out of this world, and I lost all track of time and space. It was impossible not to get loud, Adrien felt so damn good.
"So what exactly is going on between you two?" Florian insisted. "He's obviously more than a roommate."
"He's a roommate with benefits, I guess," I replied with a cocky grin.
Florian rubbed his mouth. "Mmm. What does he do for a living again?"
I hadn't told him, actually. I shifted in my seat. "He's in marketing and customer service."
Florian stared at me. "Really? You think he could help me keep my business afloat? I could use some serious advice."
I gave a vague nod and ate my cereal in silence. To my relief, Florian took out his cell phone and ignored me after that. He left with Enzo thirty minutes later to visit the city, and the rest of the day unfolded peacefully until Adrien finally got out of his studio, looking so awful that my protective instincts kicked in.
Chapter 48
ADRIEN
When Raphael asked me what was wrong, I pretended it was nothing. I didn't want to ruin his day when he seemed so happy to have his best friend in town. He didn't need to know I hadn't slept at all after we'd fucked till four A.M. He also didn't need to know I'd received another email from my estranged mother when I got home yesterday—an email that triggered me in ways I could barely express. And he sure as fuck didn't need to know I wanted to drown in my bottle of Scotch and never reach the surface again.
I was hoping he would be gone by the time I finally came out of my studio to search my kitchen cabinets for that dear bottle of Scotch, but no such luck. He was right there in the living room watching Commissaire Moulin, the sound so low I hadn't heard him from my studio.
He reiterated his question when I wouldn't answer.
"I'm fine. Why would you ask?"
He never stopped staring at me. "Because I know you're lying."
Ignoring him, I headed to the kitchen. I wasn't sure how I'd be able to sneak a drink past him. Of course, he followed me and walked in just as I was opening the cabinet. I went through the different bottles until I found what I was looking for.
"Is that Scotch?" Raphaël asked, almost growling at the sight.
"Oui, mère." I wasn't in the mood for his patronizing.
He sighed but didn't pester me about the alcohol more than that. "What's going on? Is it because I've invited Florian here?"
"What?" I looked at him sideways, then searched for a glass, but when I reached for it, Raphaël came to grab my hand. I felt stupid for assuming he wanted to fuck his best friend. He told me the guy was in a serious relationship, and not the open kind either.
"You're not drinking alcohol, Adrien. You're not supposed to mix it with your meds."
I pushed his hand away, but I left the glass on the counter. "You didn't care as much when we got drunk off champagne on New Year's Eve," I half-snapped at him.
"That was different. Your mind wasn't in a bad place. Is this because we didn't go to the Loire Valley? We can go some other time."
I wanted to laugh. "I told you I had work anyway."
That was a lie. Kind of. I did work, but it wasn't planned originally. It was a last minute thing, a client who needed me to accompany her to some business dinner. I'd only accepted because without Raphaël coming along, I had no reason to take the time off to visit some castles.
"Is it because I didn't go?" he insisted.
"No," I lied.
He kept gazing at me with his gorgeous hazel eyes and a deep frown on his face. "I can't help you if you won't tell me what's going on, Adrien."
I didn't want to tell him, but I was so damn beat, I caved in too easily. Before I could think about it, I scrolled through my emails on my phone and handed the device to him.
I didn't care to reread the words. I'd memorized them all by heart at this point. It was the same shit every year.
Adrien,
I feel forced to email to ask you to please stop sending presents to your sister on her birthday, especially such expensive gifts. It only complicates things for us. It raises a lot of questions. She doesn't understand why she can't see her brother,
and we don't have the right answers for that.
If you keep sending gifts for Christmas and her Saint's Day too, I will be forced to take action against you. For the well-being of your sister, stop trying to get into her good graces. I can assure you she doesn't condone your lifestyle. No need to disappoint her in making her think you are someone you are not.
I am asking you again: please stop sending her gifts.
Maman
Raphaël's eyes darkened like a tempest rising when he stared at me. "This is bullshit! You're allowed to send your sister whatever you want. What did you get her anyway?"
"Un VTT. I heard her complain to her friends that her parents wouldn't let her have a bike. It's supposedly too dangerous in Paris to ride around even on trails. From what I heard, her friends ride in the Luxembourg Gardens every weekend. Céleste was feeling left out." I gave the tiniest smirk. "I found one in pansexual colors."
Raphaël flashed a small complicit smile, then shook his head, his grin falling. "If you want to spend time with your sister, I think you should tell her the truth. She deserves to know."
I shook my head. "You read the email. If my parents hear I've been anywhere near her, they will take her away for good."
"Adrien, your sister is queer," he insisted. "You heard her yourself talking about coming out to them. She needs to know the truth before something bad happens to her."
My nostrils flared. Thinking about that did piss me off. I wanted my little sis to be happy and be herself, but most of all, I wanted her to be safe.
"I could come with you if you're worried about going alone," Raphaël added.
I felt conflicted, but I couldn't talk to her. Period. If I did, it might make things worse.
Chapter 49
RAPHAËL
I could tell Adrien wasn't convinced, though I did manage to pull him away from the bottle of Scotch and take him to the living room where we sat on the couch. He gave me a flirty smile, the kind with smoldering eyes that I'd grown to know so well, then he nuzzled my neck. When he tried to nibble on my earlobe, I pulled away.
