by S. L. Scott
“Fuck,” he says, his voice riled as he bites his lip and slams me down, holding me in place. His hips press three more times before he falls under the spell that drags me under with him, an orgasm thundering through me as I squeeze around him.
Dropping on top of him, my forehead presses into the pillow under him until each quake subsides, and my breath returns. I lie still, my heart pounding against his, not able to decipher between his heartbeat and mine.
This beautiful man would do anything for me. I feel it with my eyes closed, deep inside. I know it when I open them and see it in the way he looks at me, the way he worries about me, and how he cares about me. I’ve never known such adoration. “I love you.”
His head turns and his hands cover my back. He smiles so much the lines on the outside of his eyes crinkle. He’s the kind of man who gets more handsome every day. Age will only increase this attraction. “I love you, Singer.”
Our lips press together, our tongues mingling, love swirling all around. My arms wrap around his neck, and he rolls us onto our sides. The words have been felt, hanging on the tip of my tongue, but this time it’s different. Not because we just had sex, but because we just made, created, grew our love.
As if he senses the shift like I do, he says, “I love you.”
He loves me. The words heavy and wonderful, weighted in a gentle nature he hides from the world, to protect from getting hurt again. He now realizes I’ll protect his beautiful and damaged heart as well. Saying I love you means we’re a team. I take that commitment seriously and will try my damnedest to heal him with that love. My chest fills with happiness wanting to burst. “I love you, too. So much.”
Maybe Mel was right. Maybe I don’t see myself the way others do. He committed himself when he made his confession, vulnerable to feelings he tried so hard to bury. “Thank you.”
“You have the biggest heart of anyone I’ve ever met.”
“I think you easily rival it. Reegan asked what charity I wanted to support and told me you were going to donate twenty thousand dollars. Is this true?”
“He lost a bet and I wondered, what would Singer do?”
“I’m afraid you think I’m better than I am.”
“You think I don’t see you, but I do. Your heart shines brighter than the sun, sweet Singer.” He pulls me into his embrace. “Don’t ever let the world dull that shine. Okay?”
I kiss his neck. “Only if you promise to do the same.”
“Together, nothing can touch us.”
26
Singer
Ethan leaves in the middle of the night to avoid the chance of being seen. I’m promised this will all end soon, and we’ll be free to be a couple however we want to be.
True to his word, he also made a donation to the nearest homeless shelter and enough to set Frank up for the remainder of the month. In the meantime, I have him also looking into any opportunities that Frank might be qualified for at his company. He beat me to the punch, and already has a guy looking into it.
Ethan Everest has a softer side than he lets on. I’ll be careful to remember that.
I’ve just gotten out of the shower after a day at work when Melanie arrives home. “Hey,” she says, smiling suspiciously wide.
She’s up to something. Wrapping the towel around my chest a little tighter, I ask, “What’s going on?”
“What do you mean?”
Swirling my finger in the air in front of her, I narrow my eyes. “That look. You look like you’re up to no good.”
“I’m just happy.” Rolling her eyes, she says, “For you. For me. Just happy is all.” She sets a bag on the kitchen counter, reaches in, and pulls out a bottle of wine. “I brought refreshments.”
“Pour the wine and I’ll get dressed.”
As soon as I have on shorts and a tee, I join Mel in the living room, snagging a glass on my way to the couch. “I miss you. Feels like we’re never here at the same time these days.”
“I know. We’re both caught in whirlwinds it seems. How’s the love life?”
“Amazing.” Sitting down, I don’t hesitate to tell her everything and all that has happened. I end with my biggest confession of all, “I’m in love with Ethan Everest.”
Once she picks her jaw off the floor, she says, “Wow, I have missed a lot.”
“Just over one month and that’s all it took.”
“That time I saw him with you at happy hour, I could tell. Sparks didn’t fly. They incinerated the sky.”
I sip my wine and think about that kiss that he insisted was to get rid of those guys he didn’t approve of. Now I wonder if it was just a way for him to kiss me. “Do you really think?”
“I know. I witnessed it. He was a smitten kitten with you. And do I need to remind you how he marked you as his the moment he leaned in and wrapped his arm around you?”
“He did not.”
“He did. He positioned himself at the perfect angle. They could see his arm tucked behind you on the bar and you were none the wiser.” She flops back on the couch. “It was so dreamy.”
I flop back and laugh with her. “I feel like I’m living in a dream.”
“There are worse places you could be.”
We tap our glasses together. “I agree.” After taking a too big sip, I finally tell her what I now know. “He’s a millionaire.”
“I think you left a few zeros off that title.” She laughs lightly.
“What do you mean?”
“I’ve read all about him. Haven’t you?”
Bending my legs under me, I confess, “I didn’t search him online.”
“Probably best. There’s so much garbage out there.” Leaning forward, she asks, “But what’s it really like? Does he burn money instead of wood? Does he bathe in bills? Throw money out the window like confetti? I need to know because I really cannot compute the concept of that amount of money.”
I’m too busy laughing to respond. When I collect myself, I roll my eyes and play along. “Yes, he siphons it directly into his veins through an IV drip.” I can’t hold back my laughter for long and let it loose before finally adding, “He keeps beer stocked in his fridge, but has this amazing coffee machine that makes magic in a mug.” She’s staring at me, hanging on every word. “You’ll be disappointed to hear that he likes to think he’s a regular guy and acts like one.” I’m not though. I love him just the way he is.
When she actually does look disappointed, I say, “He has a private elevator that opens directly into his penthouse and he gave me a framed photo of me in a park. And his hallway is like an art gallery. Now mine hangs there.”
With her head resting back, she rolls her neck my way, nudging me with her knee. “I’m trying not to be jealous.”
“I know we used to joke about meeting someone rich—”
“It wasn’t a joke to me,” she says, but I can tell by the grin on her face she’s teasing. She shrugs. “Mike wants us to consider a place in Tribeca.”
“No,” I say, shaking my head. “You’re not a Tribeca girl. You’re all Upper East to me.”
“Aww.” She grabs me by the neck and hugs me. “I knew I loved you.”
“Bwahahaaha.” Rubbing her arm, I embrace her. “Love you for real, but do you love Mike?”
“I think I can.”
“Can or do?”
“I’m not sure, but I like him a lot, maybe love him.” Her smile gives her away. Even if she’s not in love yet, she’s more than in like with the man. The few times I’ve met him he looks at her like she’s a princess. She deserves someone who treats her like that.
Breaking into my thoughts, she asks, “Since we’re in this lovefest, can I borrow the purple dress and the Jimmy Choos? Mike’s sister is getting married at The Plaza tomorrow night and it would beat the same old worn-out black dress.”
“On a Tuesday?”
“Have you seen the prices for a weekend at The Plaza? It’s just an intimate ceremony at City Hall and then a reception in one of the small ball
rooms. I was told it was formal though and would love to not have to wear the other. Again.”
“You can wear it. Just promise me that you’ll take care of both. They’re special since Ethan gave them to me.”
“I promise and I’ll get it cleaned. I don’t think we’ll be too late. Maybe midnight. It is a work night, after all, and Mike likes his sleep.”
“You’re welcome to them. They’re in the closet.”
“Thanks again.”
“You’re welcome. Love you like a sis.”
“Love you like a sis.”
We kick back and watch a few episodes of one of our favorite reality shows before we head to bed. Rolling onto my stomach, I text Ethan since we’re not able to spend the night together. His early morning meeting is cutting into my snuggle time with him. He promises that will change soon. I type: Thinking about you. Missing you. I love you.
It’s the first time I’ve typed my love for him and seeing the words makes me feel his love. I plug in my phone on my nightstand and as I turn out the lights, I receive a message from him: I love you. Sleep well, sweet Singer.
Knowing I have the love of that man, I have the sweetest of dreams.
* * *
Rushing out the door—late again—I almost don’t see Frank, but when he catches my eye, I stop. Chip Newsom and his threats be damned. “Good morning, Frank. I’m surprised to see you here.” I don’t have any breakfast or coffee for him this morning, so I dig out some money.
“Good morning. I missed the view.”
“But you slept at the hotel, right?”
“I did, but I got up to watch the sunrise. It was quite the majestic sight this morning.”
Smiling, I love his appreciation for life, despite the hardships. “But it’s all good where you’re staying?”
“Clean. Warm. The bed has soft sheets. I almost feel guilty enjoying it as much as I do when I have so many friends on the streets.”
Frank has a dirty and tough exterior, but his insides are pure gold. I hand him the few dollar bills I have. “Breakfast?”
“Too much.” He tries to hand me two dollars out of the four I gave him.
“No, you hold on to it.”
“Thanks.” Eyeing Aaron, Frank asks, “How’s your boyfriend? I take it you’re an item these days?”
I look back at Aaron. “Be right there.” He tips his hat, making me smile. So formal. We apparently still straddle that line between business and friends. To Frank, I reply, “We are an item, and it’s going well.”
“Your Prince Charming.”
Laughing, I think about it. “I won’t deny it.”
“Good for you. You gonna move out of the neighborhood?”
“I don’t have plans to do so right now.”
“Let me ask ya. What’s keeping you here?”
“My roommate. I don’t want to leave my friend in a lurch.”
“Miss Melanie is strong. Anyway, she has her own gentleman caller.”
“How do you know all this?”
“I see and hear a lot, hanging around this street.”
“I bet you do.” I take a few steps back. “I have to get to work, but it was good chatting, Frank. Have a good day.”
“You too, Miss Singer.”
Once I’m in the car, I buckle up, my thoughts lost on all that’s happened over the last few months. Ethan’s life, I remind myself, is so big, important on a level I’ll never relate to. What part do I play? Can I live up to what will be expected of the person standing by his side? So much pressure comes along with a man of his magnitude. I can’t comprehend that side of his life, and the amount of money that plays into it.
Like this ex-girlfriend and her lawsuit. If this baby is his, and all that comes along with it, will he still want me? Our relationship has been steered off course before, but this time I worry we won’t be able to steer it back on. All I know is I love him. My heart bonded with his the moment we met.
Aaron notes the silence in the car. “Got a lot on your mind, Singer?”
“Yes.” My answer is on the heavier side as I stare out the window. The silence has become too much, filling my mind with the thoughts that weigh down my heart. “Ethan’s on my mind.”
“Do you want to talk about it?”
I catch his eyes on me in the rearview mirror. “Can you?”
“I’m very good at keeping secrets.”
That makes me smile for some reason. “I worry with all that’s going on with him that I’ll be forgotten in the mix, or worse, asked to step aside.”
“You have a big heart, and with a big heart there’s more chances to get hurt. There’s also more capacity to love big and wide, openly, and most of all, deeply.” His eyes return to the road when the light turns green, and he adds, “But wouldn’t the risk be worth it?”
Keeping my voice low, barely audible even to me, I say, “I love him.”
“I know. He also knows. You know what else he knows?”
“What?”
“That you’re the best thing in his life.”
He knows how to make a girl feel good. Smiling, I say, “That’s a lot of pressure.”
“Nothing that you can’t handle.” Pulling up in front of my work, he says, “Even with the delay earlier, I still managed to get you here on time.”
Laughing, I slide toward the door. Before I reach the building, I turn and call, “Hey Aaron?”
“Yes,” he answers, standing proudly in front of the shiny car.
“Thank you.”
“You’re welcome, Singer.”
Acknowledging him with a singular nod, I turn and avoid making it awkward. He’s got my back, and I his, but the most important part is he has my respect. He’s loyal to a fault, despite how Ethan may joke in regards to him being paid. Deep down, he knows he’s found a friend, someone true, someone who would do anything for him.
I’m not at my desk even five minutes before Chip pops over on the other side of my cubicle wall and leers down at me. I don’t angle my body up, but my gaze flashes up. “Can I help you?”
“I need to speak with you privately.” His stern voice worries me. I double-check the time. No, that’s not it. “Walk with me.”
“Okay.”
“We’ll get a coffee and talk.”
Am I about to be fired? “Do I need to bring anything?”
“No.” He walks away.
Dread fills my chest. Has he been stewing on that dinner with Umberto for all this time? Chip can be an ass, but he’s not usually short with me. I stand slowly, worried that all the good is about to be pulled right out from under my feet.
27
Singer
Chip and I wait silently for the elevator to arrive. The doors open, and we step inside. His gaze darts to the doors and as soon as they close, he turns to me, practically breaking into song and dance. “Umberto and I are spending time together again.”
My hand covers my heart. “Dang it. You scared me, Chip. I thought I was going to be fired.”
“Why would you be fired?”
Rolling my eyes, I sigh exasperated. “Never mind. Back to you.” I raise my voice and my hands in glee. “Oh my God. You are?” The awwwww in my voice takes over. I’m a sucker for romance.
He nods with a big goofy grin on his face. “He wants to get back together.”
“He does? This is amazing news.”
The doors open and we walk out. This time my pace is not the same dead-man-walking stride I entered the elevator with. Heading through the lobby, he says, “Yeah. That dinner changed everything. At first he saw me with you and didn’t know what to make of it. He thought I had turned straight.” He laughs as if the whole world is sunshine and roses with a big basket of cute puppies on the side. “So preposterous. I could never after being with him. Coffee & Main?”
“Yes, please. So what are you going to do?”
“What do you think I’m going to do? I’ve been in love with that man since I met him two summers ago. The last year a
part has been a tragedy by any standard in the dating world. I want to be with him.”
“You should be with him then, but in the open. Don’t hide your feelings. Love fully. Share with the world what sets your soul on fire.” My feet stop moving. My eyes fixate on everything and nothing at all. An image of Ethan is clear as day in my mind. I repeat, mumbling, processing, “Share with the world what sets your soul on fire.”
“Yeah, I heard you, and you’re right.”
“No.”
“No?” He turns back and looks at me quizzically.
“No. I’m not talking about you.”
“Huh?”
Waving my hands, I walk to where he stands, waiting to decipher my crazy. “I mean, I am talking about you, but I’m also talking about me.”
“What about you?”
“I’m in love, Chip.”
“You are?” His eyes go wide, a look of surprise morphing his expression. “With who? I didn’t even know you were dating anyone. Well, not that you share that kind of information with me, but at dinner, it didn’t appear to—Wait a minute . . . You’re not in love with—”
My hand covers his mouth, keeping him from speaking his name. “No. Don’t say it out loud.”
I lower my hand and his words roll out in utter shock. “You can’t. You’ve read the papers. You know he’s bad news, right?”
“By how much they talk about him, I’d say they consider him good news for their advertising dollar.”
“You know what I mean, Singer. He’s trouble. He’s embroiled in one of the biggest scandals in Manhattan. Those stories reach far beyond New York. He’s not good for you. He’s tainted.”
“For someone so tainted, you sure wanted to work with him.”
“I still do. I’m not a fool. His net worth is well over a billion dollars if not two. The man’s a genius when it comes to business, but as for his personal life—”
“It’s not true. They print lies.”
“How do you know?”
“Because I know him.”
With a raised eyebrow, a small grin slinks in. “How well do you know him?”
