by W. Winters
“She told me tonight could set a precedent for the order to be dissolved?”
“That’s the plan that Cade and Kamden have agreed on.”
“What exactly are they looking for?”
“Returning to normal documented behavior and presenting it to the judge.”
“Good.” I nod along with the plan. It’s ideal. It should be straightforward. And it aligns with what Ella told me, so they’re being transparent with her.
“How’s she been today?”
“She’s been ... seeking pleasure.” Damon doesn’t look at me, and there’s a tilt of his head.
I don’t understand at first. “In her journaling?”
“No. Not in her journaling.” Damon looks me straight in the eye.
Oh, fuck. That kind of pleasure. The kind of pleasure I ordered her to have. Just the thought of her enjoying herself makes my cock stir. That’s my good girl. “Thoughts on that?”
“It’s a good sign that she’s doing better.”
“That makes me happy to hear.”
Damon nods in agreement. “You seem lighter,” I comment.
“I think tonight is going to go well. We talked about it earlier. Ella is ready and looking forward to it.”
Before I can say a word, he adds, “She asked me about drinking tonight.”
“Drinking?”
“It’s a social event. She said she’ll most certainly be around it and be tempted.”
“What did you tell her?”
“She’s weaning off the antidepressants. She should use her best judgment, but a glass would be all right. Maybe sticking to only one drink would be best.”
“Sounds good.” It does not sound good. I want to close the kitchen door behind Damon, take her upstairs, and strip her clothes off. I want nothing between us but air. And then I want to figure this out. It would be easier if I could breathe her in. Taste her.
Protect her from any pressures that would move her too quickly, too close to dangerous territory.
“You sure you’re good with going to the party by yourself?” There’s no hint of judgment in Damon’s voice. None at all. “I could go, if you want a second pair of hands.”
“Silas will be in the parking lot, won’t he?”
Damon nods. “He’s already there, waiting. I’m off duty and you are officially her chauffeur.”
I huff a laugh at my job description and already feel relieved knowing Silas is in place. “I’ll be fine. I doubt things will go too late.”
“I’ll have my phone if you need anything.” Damon slaps me on the shoulder on his way past. “Any time, day or night.”
“I know it.”
“I’m headed out. Seriously—you’ll call if you need anything?”
“I’ll call.”
“Okay. Have a good time.”
With the door shutting behind him, there’s a feeling that takes over. A need to go to her, to kiss her, to brush her hair to the side and tell her what a good girl she’s been. I call her name into the house, and a soft noise from upstairs answers.
She’s in the bathroom in her bedroom, the light slanting into the hallway from the open door. I’m drawn to it, and it seems for a second that she’s the light source.
The glow inside the bathroom caresses her hair, which has been gently curled and cascades down over her shoulders. Ella leans in close to the mirror, her hips pressed against the countertop, and an animal urge claws at me from the inside out. I could take her like that. I could brace her hips in my hands so they wouldn’t get bruised on the counter and command her to watch how beautiful she looks in the mirror while I fuck her.
With my grip on the threshold, I stay where I am, watching her instead.
The light shines off the silver tube of lipstick in her hand. Red, to go with the black dress hugging her hips and skimming her thighs. High heels lift her legs into a criminally beautiful stretch. Is my heart even beating?
Ella finishes and presses her lips together, then blots at the color with a tissue. I have the oddest feeling that I’m watching something out of the past. A memory come to life, right here in this house. This gorgeous woman, in her former glory.
She looks at me over her slender shoulder and shoots me a sultry look as her gaze roams down my body. As if she’s the huntress.
How utterly fucking adorable.
“Hey, Z.”
“I’d punish you for not greeting me on your knees, but it’d be a shame to wrinkle that dress.” Color rushes to her cheeks and there’s a glint of mischievousness in her dark eyes. “You look gorgeous, Ella.”
“Are you ready?” I ask her.
“I’m as ready as I’ll ever be.”
It’s quiet as I lead her downstairs, her hand tightly holding mine.
The spark between us is magnetized, the air electric as I help her into the car. She’s graceful but most of all, quiet.
“Z,” her voice murmurs over the hum of the car before we’ve even left her house. “Whatever happens tonight, just … you’ll still want me, won’t you?”
“Why do you say it like that?”
“People will ask questions.”
“People are irrelevant when it comes to our relationship.”
“You say that,” she says and brushes a stray hair from in front of her face. “But what about when they ask if there’s anything between us?”
My pulse races with the way she looks at me. As if saying the wrong answer now will stay with her forever. I’m weak in this moment. Weak for her and the thought of her walking away.
“I’ll be there when you answer, and whatever you tell them is what I’ll say.”
“What if I tell them that we’re together. That we’re … an item?”
“Like I said, whatever you tell them, I’ll agree with.”
The host, a socialite in the elite circles Kelly entertains, lives at another ritzy house a twenty-minute drive away. Not quite as expansive as Ella’s home, but it’s up there.
And it’s crawling with guests. Expensive cars are parked along the half-circle drive. Music pours out into the front gardens. Chatter is heard from the house and even those gallivanting in the yard. It’s a sight to behold. The sheer luxury and expense of the evening doesn’t hide behind a curtain. It creates a spotlight for itself.
We haven’t been out of the car thirty seconds when my phone buzzes for the first time.
Damon’s name is displayed on the screen. I don’t have time to check it this second. I need to be aware of what's going on around us and aware of how Ella’s behaving. And at this very second, she’s ahead of me, in the chaos of the crowd. The sky is pitch black and with everyone around her blurring, she peeks over her shoulder, eyeing me with a happiness I haven’t seen from her. One that lights up everything around her.
The phone buzzes again a second later.
Cade.
“Z,” she calls out, turning around but not stopping her stride. As she twirls back around, she reaches out for me to take her hand. Hers slips into mine and my phone slips in my back pocket. Let us at least get settled. There’s nothing to report just yet.
“How are you?” I check with her as she squeezes my hand.
“Excited,” she confesses with a beautiful smile, her teeth sinking into her bottom lip. “You?”
“I’m happy you’re happy.”
There’s a photo op at the front entrance and Ella poses without me, then pulls me in behind her for a shot. A photographer calls out, “Who’s the gentleman?” She ignores the question, choosing to wink at him instead.
“Cheeky girl,” I tease when she takes my hand again. She’s delighted, mischievous and it’s a thrilling sight.
As soon as we’ve relinquished our coats at the door check, a clutch of women I don’t recognize descend on Ella, greeting her with shrieks and hugs and so much touching that I angle myself closer to her to give her some breathing room. Her face is lit up with exhilaration, color in her cheeks and a glint in her eyes.
She glances at me. I put my hand on the small of her back and lean down to speak into her ear. “If this is too much, give the signal.” Three fingers directly over her lips, the tip of her middle finger resting on the tip of her nose, means I’ll immediately intervene.
“I know,” she whispers and takes a step ahead of me. I stay back, letting her readjust to something that I’m sure has been familiar all her life. It’s almost as if she’s the client once again. I’m here to protect her, to shield her. I’m here to offer her comfort if she needs it.
And judging by the sweet laugh that she utters from her lips, she doesn’t need me. Not in this moment.
As she looks up at me from under her lashes, my phone buzzes again.
There are more people than I expected. I try to refocus to keep an eye on all of them in relation to Ella.
Another message. I glance down at my phone and see both Cade and Damon are checking in. There’s no emergency, nothing to cause alarm.
I text them back, everything going as planned.
A light touch on my arm draws my attention. It’s Ella, her dark eyes searching my face. “Can we go somewhere and talk?” Something’s off.
“Of course.” My answer is irrelevant. Ella’s attention is quickly drawn away.
“Ella!”
Trish pushes her way through the crowd to get to Ella’s side and wraps her up in a giddy hug. “People are waiting for you. Come on, let’s go.”
“Who’s here?” Ella asks.
“Old friends, new friends … and everyone worth showing off the new you to.”
Trish leads Ella up a flight of stairs and toward the back of the house. I stay a few steps behind but I don’t miss how Ella checks on me. Each time she peeks over her shoulder I offer her a calm smile.
“You good?” she mouths at me. As if she’s the one who should be worried and not the other way around.
I eye her in a way she should recognize and then tap her ass to keep it moving. Her shy smile and the way she bites her lip are everything. They go out through a set of open double doors. It doesn’t make sense that the doors are open—it’s too late in the year—until I step out after them.
It’s a massive heated porch. On the other side is a long bar.
The partying on this level is far more intense. Trish and Ella join up with a crowd near the bar.
Someone hands her a drink. Someone I don’t recognize but Ella obviously does.
“Cheers,” the woman yells over the loud din from everyone one else out here, and Ella drinks from her glass. It’s only a sip at first, but it doesn’t take long for more people and more sips until it’s drained along with the rest of them.
“Zander,” calls Trish over her shoulder, and I step forward so she can introduce me to their friends. I don’t hear any of the names she says while I shake hand after hand, looking into one glazed-over pair of eyes and then another.
They’re wasted. Every person here is drinking heavily and as I’m politely shaking hands. Ella accepts another drink. Red flags. This is a sea of red flags.
Ella
This party feels like a funhouse and I’m in the middle, distorted by all the mirrors, too hot and drunk and a mess.
“Like I said, whatever you tell them, I’ll agree with.”
It didn’t quite hit me at first when he said that in the car, or maybe it did and I just played it off. But the more time passes, the more upset I get. A drink down and he’s not beside me. He’s staying back and it feels like I’m here alone.
There’s a heat, a longing, a stirring of anxiousness that’s just getting worse and worse.
I want another drink and then another.
He can’t even agree that we’re an item? I shouldn’t have come in here without dealing with it first, but here we are.
He’s stayed back and behind me, not by my side. He’s there, though, I remind myself. He’s here, we’re just … I don’t know what we are.
With two drinks in, I’m already feeling it, and every passing second he’s not by my side, I feel more and more betrayed.
“You good, girl?” Kelly asks, clinging to my side before kissing my cheek.
“Just pissed,” I whisper and it takes a second for her to register it, more reading my lips than hearing it over how loud everything else is.
With her brow knitted she asks why, and I nod toward Zander.
All I asked him was what if we were to be called “an item” and he couldn’t say that we were. It hurts. I tried to pretend like it didn’t, but alcohol has a way of making lies go quiet. I haven’t forgotten what Kam said. I haven’t forgotten what Damon said.
“Fuck him,” Kelly murmurs and then peers across the patio to a hoard of men. Some of them I know, one of them I know-know, and others I don’t.
“I don’t want them. I want him,” I tell her and she nods.
“Maybe a little attention from them and Zander will shape up?” she suggests and I shake my head. “I’m not … no. I don’t know.” My head is fuzzy.
Minutes pass and more people gather. Only one person mentions James. With everyone talking over each other, it barely registers. I only know it was spoken to me because the group around me goes quiet. I stare back at a tall man, his hair cropped back and his tie loosened around his neck.
“Just, I’m just … I wanted to give my condolences is all.”
My heart does that pitter-patter thing. Before I can even answer, Zander’s on one side of me, telling me someone named Arthur is looking for me and Kelly’s on the other side, a flute of champagne that was in her hand, being pushed into mine.
“Drink up, baby.”
It feels like stumbling, as I turn my back on the group, Zander’s arm around my waist as he leads me away.
“You all right?” he questions and I throw the flute back, letting the bubbles worm their way down my throat.
My eyes prick and suddenly everything isn’t so great and wonderful.
“It fucking hurt,” I say to him and breathe out, but not daring to look him in the eye. If I do, I think I’ll lose it. The one night of all these nights where I need to simply be and be seen, and this has come over me.
“I know,” he says and then I realize he’s talking about James. Fuck, it’s a knife to the chest. I struggle to respond at all. In a sea of people, I glance around them, feeling the cool breeze against my hot face, and I feel alone. With the exception of this man.
“Do you love me?” I ask him, barely breathing.
His striking eyes hold me for a moment, and I think he’ll admit it. He has to feel it, doesn’t he? He speaks his words carefully. “Ella, you’re drunk.”
I’ve felt my heart break before. I’ve felt it shatter. It belonged to someone else back then. Someone who would never dare to hurt it. “Don’t do this. Not here.”
“Right,” I answer him in a single breath, attempting to compose myself. Swallowing thickly, I push it all down. All I can hear are my heels clicking on the ground as slow as my heart beats.
With my heart beating faster, I walk with him and accept the bottle of water. “No more drinks,” he orders. “Only water.”
Fiddling with the cap, I nod in agreement.
Why does it hurt as much as it does? It feels like the rain has poured down around me.
All because he couldn’t say we’re an item?
No. No it’s not that. It takes me minutes to register that I asked him if he loves me.
He knows. He must know, that I love him. Fuck, I am drunk. I’m far more than tipsy.
The conversation plays on repeat. Then the one with Kam insinuating we aren’t on the same page. Then the one with Damon, and how my feelings may be displaced.
“We’re going to steal her, if that’s all right.” Kelly’s voice rings clear over my head in the dark corner behind the bar that Zander’s cornered me into.
“I think it may be time for us to head out.”
“You just got here.” Kelly’s objection reflects both her shock and disappointment
.
“I’m not leaving. I’m fine.” My voice is clear and my decision firm as I look Zander in the eye.
“So … about stealing her away? I think she should see some people. Some influential people Kam mentioned?” she tells him. Asking him permission and not me.
He doesn’t answer her, other than to nod. There’s a concerned look in his eyes and he tells me, I’ll be right behind you.
“I’m not letting her out of my sight,” he warns Kelly who only laughs, a sweet friendly sound before whispering to me that whatever he said he can shove up his ass and that she loves me.
“Should we hide in the bathroom?” she asks me and I shake my head. Half of me wants to leave, while the other half wants to feel it, and let it all go.
“Smile on,” she says and like a ghost taking over, I grin entering the room and hollowing out to let the former me show. That’s what this night is about. This is for me, not him.
As the clock ticks by, and hour passes easily, I laugh when everyone else does. I smile for the cameras. I accept hug after hug and give comments to the gossip columnists when they ask for one that would make Kam proud. I’ve been through hell and back. If Zander thinks his commitment problems are enough to break me, he’s the one who’s got a new thing coming.
I’m fine. I’m better than fucking fine.
He’s barely approached me, watching from a few feet away as if he’s merely security. He must know he fucked up. He called in backup. I spotted Silas across the room and nearly rolled my eyes. It’s yet another betrayal. It fucking hurts. It feels like a breakup. Like I did the one thing I knew I would do. I pushed him and he refused to move with me.
I have issues, yes. But so does he. And it’s not my responsibility to take his problems on. That’s what I tell myself anyway, as I’m looking at my ex from another life.
That … and to do what Kelly suggested, to show Zander why he needs to commit.
John, a handsome lover from years ago, circles the edge of the crowd, his face disappearing and reappearing as people talk into my ear and ask me the same stream of questions over and over. How are you? Are you settled at the lodge? We missed you.
