by Kelly, Hazel
“Tongue in your ass?”
I turn bright red as the elderly women cast their eyes our way again. “Very funny.”
“Funny ’cause it’s true.”
“Seriously, though. He was the first person in a long time who made me feel less…fixated on myself or something. I can’t explain it. It was like I weighed less with him in my life.”
Her eyes droop at the edges.
“I thought we might have a future.”
“I’m sorry, Cassie.”
“Me too.”
“I still think you did the right thing.”
“Yeah?”
Her eyes bend into well-meaning crescents. “Of course. I mean, the way things were going, the chances were good that one of you was going to let your personal relationship affect the case.”
I squint at her.
“And it was better for everyone that you came out on top.”
“Not for him, it wasn’t.”
“Are you sure you’re not just recalling your connection through rose-tinted glasses now that it’s fizzled out?”
“What do you mean?” I ask.
“I mean you’re the one that said he couldn’t be all that wonderful if he would represent such shitty people.”
“I know, but then I got to know him.”
She raises her eyebrows.
“And it didn’t occur to me that I might have to stop getting to know him.”
“What could you have done differently?”
I stick out my bottom lip and wrack my brain. “I don’t know. Not been such a stubborn bitch? Negotiated like I said I would? I mean, I didn’t think he’d cut me out of his life overnight.”
“You know what would cheer you up?” she asks, crossing her legs the other way.
I shove a crispy piece of apple in my mouth. “What?”
“A masquerade party.”
I swallow. “Surely you aren’t suggesting I fuck a stranger rather than seek some genuine closure?”
“That’s exactly what I was going to suggest,” she says. “Of course, there’s always the possibility that Owen will be there.”
“When?”
“A week from Saturday.”
I scrunch my face. “I don’t want him to be there, though. I want him to be missing me at home with his dick firmly wedged in his pants.” This time the elderly ladies turn red, but I don’t even care anymore. I just roll my eyes and turn my focus back to Ruby.
“I personally think it’s a good plan,” she says. “If he turns up at the party, you’ll know he’s not at home pining.”
I bite the inside of my cheek.
“And that will be all the closure you need.”
“And what am I supposed to do until then?”
“Get a bikini wax?”
“That’s not what I meant.”
“I know,” she says, dragging her last bite of sandwich through some ketchup. “But I already told you to give the man some space, and you didn’t like it the first time.”
“No. I suppose I didn’t.”
“Seriously, though,” she says, swallowing her bite. “If there’s one thing I know for sure, it’s that absence only makes the heart grow fonder when there’s a genuine depth of feeling.”
“So?”
“So stop calling the guy and give him room to think,” she says. “After all, isn’t that what made you realize how much you care about him?”
I’m reluctant to admit she has a point. “A week from Saturday, huh?”
“You might as well come,” she says. “It’s the last one.”
I raise my eyebrows. “Ever?”
“No,” she says. “That I’m going to.”
“Oh.”
“So what do you say?” she asks.
“Fine. I’ll go.”
“Jeez. You don’t have to sound so happy about it.”
“I can’t decide if I want him to be there or not.”
“Of course you do,” she says.
“Do I?”
She nods. “Break-up sex might be the most you can hope for at this stage.”
“But we were never going out.”
She leans forward. “I know you weren’t, Cassie. That’s why you need to pull it together.”
“Ouch,” I say, making a pouty face. “That really hurts.”
“Maybe,” she says, cocking her head. “But it beats feeling numb.”
T H I R T E E N
I can’t find him anywhere in the house, which means he’s either not here or he’s in a room with someone else.
I take a seat on the empty piano bench, letting a heavy wave of regret wash over me. I mean, I didn’t even know it was possible to be jealous of a past version of myself, but here I am, wishing I could go back in time to when Owen Morgan wanted to get to know me.
Honestly, is there anything worse than not knowing what you have until it’s gone?
I drag my fingers lightly along the shiny white keys and think of his hands. They were so capable, so…perfectly shaped, and there was every chance they might never be on me again.
“Come here often?”
My stomach drops when I hear his voice behind me, and I freeze for a second, worried that my longing for him has turned into full-blown hallucinations.
But when he slides onto the bench beside me, his energy is too tangible for him to be a mirage. I turn to look at him, cracking a smile when I see that—like me—he’s in a mask again. For some reason, it makes the reunion easier than if his chiseled cheekbones were staring back at me now.
“Hi,” I say, pulling my hands back to my lap and turning my shoulders towards him.
“It’s good to see you,” he says.
The sound of his voice makes me melt inside, but I’m determined to hold my nerve. “Is it?” I ask. “Because I’m under the impression that you’ve been avoiding me.”
His eyes sweep across my lips and then my collarbone.
I wish we didn’t have to talk at all, but I know better. I’ve been in too many relationships with guys who just disappear when they feel like it, and I know my heart can’t handle the strain. Sure, as a teenager, there was nothing more exciting than a guy who played hot and cold, but I’m too old for that bullshit now. I need people around me I can depend on.
“I wasn’t avoiding you.”
I tilt an ear towards him. “You refused to take my calls and obviously gave your secretary instructions to turn me away.”
“I had some fires to fight,” he says. “As I’m sure you can imagine.”
I shook my head. “I don’t understand what happened. The last thing you said to me was ‘see you in court.’”
“I know,” he says. “But what’s that saying? It’s a man’s prerogative to change his mind.”
“You were crazy to take that deal.”
“Not any crazier than you were not to negotiate,” he says. “You knew damn well my client couldn’t risk going to court.”
“I’m sorry—”
“You don’t owe me an apology.”
“But I screwed you over. The case aside—”
“There is no case aside,” he says. “You did what you had to do.”
I swallow.
“And I respect you for it.”
I take a breath for the first time since he sat down.
“Though I’m sure my sulking sufficiently hid that fact,” he says, the corner of his mouth curling up on one side.
“So I was right. You’re totally pissed at me.”
He nods. “I was.”
I glance down at the bench between us.
“But not for the reasons you think.”
I lift my eyes. “Reasons?!”
“I’m pissed because you got to me, because I was doing just fine without you and now I’m…not.”
I bite the inside of my lip to keep from smiling.
“I’m pissed that, in such a short time, you’ve managed to make me care about my scruples again, which I frankly thought died with my
grandparents.”
I scoot back a little and cross my legs towards him.
“I’m pissed that you’ve made me lose interest in fucking other women.”
My eyes grow wide.
“That’s why I’m pissed,” he says. “Not because of the case, but because I was perfectly happy not giving a shit about anyone but myself.” He pulls his mask off and tosses it on top of the piano. “And now not only do I give a shit about you, but seeing how hard you were willing to fight for your clients made me care about them, too.”
I pull my mask off and hold it in my lap.
“And even though I got myself into hot water at work, I’ve been sleeping like a fucking baby knowing I did the right thing by those people, and I’ve gotten more satisfaction out of that than I ever could’ve gotten from winning the case.” He runs a hand through his hair. “So basically I’m ruined because of you.”
My eyes bounce back and forth between his as my heart swells in my chest.
“Which is why I came here tonight hoping to find you. Because I want to know what the fuck you’re going to do about it.”
I lean forward and kiss him, holding his face with one hand as I part my lips.
He reaches around to my lower back and slides me towards him on the bench until I’m so close my crossed leg is draped over his knees. Then he pulls my hair, making my stomach drop with my head as he kisses me deeper, reminding me exactly why I missed him so bad.
“Well?” he asks, dragging his fingertips against the side of my head. “What’s the verdict?”
I feel so sexy in his arms it’s hard to think. “What verdict?”
“How are you going to fix the mess you’ve made of me?”
I press my lips together. “I’m going to let you take me out again.”
“Pardon?”
“No sex, though. Just a kiss goodnight if the evening goes well.”
He shakes his head. “You are full of surprises.”
“Not that I don’t want to have sex with you,” I say. “I do, but—”
He raises his eyebrows.
“It’s clouding my judgement and—”
“You want to start over,” he says.
“Is that okay?”
He laughs. “It’s okay. It’s not great, but I know you’re worth the wait.”
“Thanks,” I say, totally second-guessing myself.
“And for the record, I like it better when I control the situation.”
“Tough,” I say. “Those are the terms if we’re going to have a chance.”
He squints at me. “You have heard that it’s impossible to go backwards in a relationship, right?”
“I’m not suggesting the idea because I want to go backwards.” I run my fingers down the buttons of his crisp white shirt. “I’m suggesting it because I want to go forwards.”
He drags his fingers under my chin. “I want that, too.”
“Good,” I say, beaming.
He narrows his dark eyes at me. “Out of curiosity, is there any chance you’re just trying to make up for the kisses you didn’t get when we first met?”
“There’s every chance,” I say, pecking him on the lips again. “So don’t hold out on me.”
“Never,” he says. “And that’s a promise.”
I sigh. “Thanks for being understanding.”
“Oh, I understand,” he says. “I understand that you want to beg for it, and I am totally okay with that.”
I don’t want to beg for it.”
“Tough,” he says. “You want to play games, games is what you’ll get.”
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I lift my palms. “I wasn’t suggesting we put it off forever.”
He laughs. “As if you’ll last that long.”
“But games are the last thing I want.”
He furrows his brow. “I thought sex was the last thing you wanted?”
“No I want it, I do—”
“Oh Cassie,” he says, a smile spreading across his face. “You’re going to have to do better than that.”
F O U R T E E N
“What made you choose this place?” I ask, sliding a spicy sweet potato fry from the small silver bucket between us.
“I love this place.”
“Seriously?” I ask. “Because this is literally my favorite restaurant.”
“Not seriously,” he says. “Ruby told me you liked it here.”
“You asked Ruby?”
He shrugs. “I aim to please, and she seemed happy enough to make a few recommendations.”
I cock my head. “She sent you a list, didn’t she?”
“How did you know?”
“She makes lists for everything.”
“That explains why she asked me to be more specific,” he says.
“More specific?”
“Yeah, like did I want your top ten favorite lunch places or was I taking you to dinner.”
I point at myself. “I don’t even know my top ten favorite lunch places.”
“Well she does, if you ever want to know.
I smile. “What a nut.”
“How did you meet her anyway?”
“We’ve been friends since high school,” I say. “We got partnered up for something in English class freshman year and the rest is history.”
“I see.”
“Sometimes I think she knows me better than I know myself.”
He fixes his eyes on me. “Tell me something she doesn’t know.”
“Like what?” I ask, taking a bite of my burger.
“Like how many times you thought of me this week while you touched yourself.”
My chewing jaw freezes.
“I’ll wait,” he says, leaning back against the wooden booth behind him.
Blood rushes to my cheeks as I think about it before swallowing. “Five.”
He raises his eyebrows.
“And a half.”
“A half?”
“I was at work, and I got interrupted.”
His mouth twitches once before he clenches his jaw.
“How’s that for top-secret information?” I ask.
“It’s a start,” he says, lifting his burger and taking a big bite.
It strikes me as funny that I like the way his jaw muscles move when he chews. “If you could change places with anyone for a day, who would it be?”
“Why would I want to be someone else?” he asks.
“I don’t know,” I say. “To see the world through someone else’s eyes? Because you’ve always wanted to be a pilot? Beats me.”
“Is there someone you’d rather be having dinner with right now?”
His tone is so serious I can’t help but smile. “No.”
“Then I’ll keep my own shoes on, thank you very much.”
“That’s sweet.”
“Like I said, you’ve ruined me.”
I roll my eyes.
“Favorite album?” I ask.
“What makes you think I buy albums?”
“You strike me as a purist.”
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” he says.
“Well?”
“My favorite album is a compilation.”
“Called…?”
“‘The Best of Peter Green’s Fleetwood Mac.’”
“So you have brilliant taste in music,” I say definitively.
“I have brilliant taste in everything,” he says without flinching.
“So what’s the verdict on your burger?”
“It’s delicious,” he says. “I can’t believe I’ve never been here before.”
“Me neither. Thank goodness you met me.”
“And Ruby,” he jokes.
“How did you even get in touch with her?”
“She linked to me.”
I groan. “She is the worst.”
“Then she sent me a threatening message about all the things she was going to do to me if I hurt you.”
My face drops. “Please tell me that’s not true.”
“It was in list form, which seemed extra sinister at the time, but now that you’ve told me that’s her thing—”
“I am so sorry.”
“Don’t be.”
“She can be a bit overprotective.”
He waves my comment away. “Her behavior only confirms what I already suspected.”
“Which is?”
“That you’re worth the trouble.”
“The trouble?”
He nods. “In my experience, all women are trouble.”
My mouth falls open.
“But only some of them are worth it.”
I scoff. “And how can you be sure I’m not a complete pain in the ass?”
He smiles. “I never said you weren’t a pain in the ass.”
“Hey!”
“I only said you were worth it.”
I cross my arms and glare at him. “Seems like a backhanded compliment.”
“Take it how you please. It’s only an observation.”
I sigh. “What am I going to do with you?”
“I can tell you what you’re not going to do.”
“Oh?” I slide my beer closer. “And what’s that? Take you home and have my way with you?”
“Bingo,” he says, his eyes flashing.
“And what if I want to get down to it right here?” I ask. “They have very spacious bathrooms at this place, you know.”
“You could drop to your knees and lick your lips right now, and I wouldn’t so much as unzip my pants.”
I smile, surprisingly turned on. “That’s like…reverse dirty talk.”
“You could beg me to pull your hair and fuck your mouth, and I’d just keep drinking my beer.”
“More,” I insist.
“You could touch yourself until your thighs were wet, and I wouldn’t even blush.”
I struggle to hold his stare.
He leans across the table and drops his voice to a whisper. “I wouldn’t even break for a taste of your sweet candy ass.”
“That’s enough.”
“You have no idea how bad I want you, Cassie.”
I gather my hair and pull it in front of my shoulder, desperate to let the back of my neck breathe.
“And I don’t just want you for one night either.”
I take a swig of my beer and try not to think about what it would be like to touch myself in front of him while he stroked himself over me.
