by TL Gehr
I turn my head away from the temptation. I can hear Philip’s breath. I’m getting hard. No, no, no. I don’t need a boner right now.
“Mind if we join? Or are you two having a moment?” Jones to the rescue. Philip’s other friends are with her.
He lets go of me and we form a circle, bobbing and twisting to the music. I keep my movements small because I still don’t know what I’m doing and I’m hoping no one looks at me.
“What did Voldemort have to say?” Triston asks.
“That’s caught on, has it?” Philip asks, all dimples.
“Someone should inform Vanity Fair, don’t you think?” Tabitha exchanges a look with Philip, her eyes sparkling with some hidden meaning.
They don’t like Chase.
“He was simply making introductions,” Philip says. “Being his usual charming self.”
“Ouch.” Triston looks at me. “Do you need something for that hypothermia?”
Gunther sniggers.
“They spoke Latin.” I say. “Can you all speak Latin? Is that a thing?” What I mean is: is that a rich people thing?
Jones laughs. “God, what a dick.”
“I speak many languages.” Tabitha’s teeth gleam as bright as her pearls. “Latin is not one of them.”
“It’s very much a private boys school thing,” Jones explains. “You know, the types who end up in college dorms with names like Gamma Sigma, draped in togas.”
I turn to Philip. “I wouldn’t mind seeing you in a toga.”
Is that too far? Am I crossing the pretend boyfriend line? My ears feel hot. Philip’s answering grin is so broad that his eyes crinkle.
“Did you attend toga parties, Philip?” Tabitha asks.
“You know me better than that.”
That now-familiar discomfort uncoils inside me. “You went to college?”
“My parents insisted.” In other words, they let him study. Just not what he wanted to study.
“Your man, Philip, holds a Masters in Actuarial Science,” Triston says.
And here’s me, a high school dropout. “I don’t even know what that is.”
“How to make money, how to keep money,” Philip says wryly.
“You know, most guys would trot out the degree on the first date.” Jones has given up the pretense of dancing now and she’s standing with her arms folded. “You’re not doing that thing where you play dumb to seem cool are you?” She doesn’t give Philip a chance to respond. “Philip’s a genius,” she tells me. “He was magna cum laude at Columbia.”
“More Latin.”
“It means he had the second-best grades in his entire class.”
“My parents wanted to know why I didn’t get the best grades,” he says.
“Point is, he’s smart.”
“Well, I know that.” I take his hand again because it feels like the right thing to do and because, I guess, I need it.
He brings my knuckles up to his lips and kisses them.
It’s such a simple gesture of careless intimacy. It’s Philip being very good at lying, nothing more. Yet, my brain short circuits. His lips. My skin. My insides tingle. I completely miss what Jones says next, she may as well be speaking Latin. By the time I’m able to focus again, the conversation has moved from us to some or other celebrity who’s here and who she’s with.
Philip pulls me to him and leans down. “You okay?” He whispers into my ear.
No, not okay. I need him. I need those lips on me again and it’s never going to happen because he’s a millionaire with a degree and an ex so gorgeous he may as well be a god and I’m a short-shit druggy with a learning disorder.
So many responses almost fall from my mouth. I’m in love with you, I need to kiss you, I’ll do anything, absolutely anything, if you kiss my hand again.
“Fine,” I manage. “Good. I’m having a good time. Your friends are nice.”
He chuckles, low and sexy. “You don’t have to say that.”
“They are. They don’t like Chase and they acknowledge you’re a genius. And no one commented on my dancing to my face.”
He laughs again and his breath brushes against my lips.
My body is straining towards his. “We never got those drinks. Can I get you something?”
“I can come with?”
“No, I’ve got it.” I need to step away for a bit. Besides, it looked like an open bar. Nobody was handling cash.
I ask the others if I can get them anything, then head off. I’m already at the bar, taking deep, steadying breaths, when I realize that Jones came with me. She waves for the barman and gets his attention, but she lets me place the order. She leans on her elbows while we wait.
“So, you’re pretty into Philip.”
“Is this the ‘if you hurt him I’ll kill you’ speech?”
She smiles like a cat. She’s pretty but there’s a hardness to her that tells me she can be dangerous when she wants to be. “Philip and I grew up together. Our mothers are friends. We used to crawl around on the carpet and steal each other’s crayons.”
“And now you ride horses in Central Park?”
“Among other things.”
“I get it, you’re close. You care about him. I have no intention of hurting him.”
The barman puts our drinks down. I pull two glasses towards me and Jones takes the others. “It’s going to be a long time before he comes into all that money,” she says. It’s a random statement, but I understand immediately what she means.
“We’re not that serious yet. You can give me the ‘stay away from his fortune’ speech in a few months.” Best prepare her for the fact that she probably won’t see me again.
I step away but she takes my arm. “Are you sure? Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you and he seems pretty serious.”
Philip is a very good liar, I remind myself, even though my mouth goes dry at her words.
“And I’m crazy about him.” I’m not a good liar, so I go with the truth. “I’m just saying, it’s new. We’re not exactly discussing prenups.”
Her eyes narrow. “Philip clearly likes you.” Unsaid is, for whatever reason. “But there’s more to him than money and good looks.”
“You think I don’t know that?”
“You didn’t even know he went to college, so excuse me for making assumptions.”
I set down the drinks again. “Let’s get something straight, okay? I’m going to say this once, so listen close. I’m not interested in his money. I don’t give a shit about that. I didn’t even know he was rich when we met. He’s kind and smart and so fucking considerate. And he has those dimples and that uncertain expression and he just needs someone who will support him and I want to be that person. That’s all. I just want to…”
I trail off. I’ve probably said too much. I focus on the drinks. “I just want to be there for him, if that’s what he wants.” I lift them again and almost drop them when she flings her arms around my neck. As it is, I spill some of Philip’s whiskey over my hand.
I’m not quite sure what’s happening, so I stand very still. She pulls away. “I’m sorry, Brian. Philip’s had a rough time of it so I just have to make sure, you know?”
Especially when some low-class slob makes eyes at him. “Yeah. You’re a good friend.”
I can’t remember ever having a friend who’d have The Talk with one of my boyfriends. She takes the rest of the drinks and we walk back to the group.
Philip’s not there.
18
Philip
When Brian doesn’t come back, I start to worry. Jones gave me a look when she trailed after him. The kind of look that said Brian might need some rescuing.
I excuse myself and work my way through the crowd towards the bar.
So far this has been a shitshow. I can’t believe I dragged Brian here. I wish I’d known that Jones saw him at the park. Now Brian’s presence in my life raises more questions than it answers. And I completely froze up in front of Chase. That wasn’t how I pi
ctured it at all. Brian was supposed to feel good about being on my arm, not like a mouse trapped under a panther’s paw.
He handled it so well though. That look on Chase’s face when Brian had no idea who he was, when he realized his celebrity wouldn’t turn Brian into a gibbering mess like it did most men. It did feel a bit like he was an evil wizard and Brian just happened to have the perfect counter curse to disable his magic.
My stomach is all butterflies. Part of me wants to make a run for it, just take Brian and go. Call it a night. But my friends came here as moral support for me, I have to see this through. Anyway, another part of me (mostly the part between my legs) wants more time on the dancefloor with Brian pressed against me, his hand on my chest while his hips move beneath my fingers.
Someone snags my elbow as I brush past them. It’s Chase. I didn’t even notice him.
“Philip! Picture for old times’ sake?”
He’s standing with two people with media passes around their necks. He must have been trying to coordinate publicity shots. For all I know, they could be the very same people who dragged me through the mud after the breakup.
I open my mouth to say I’d rather die, but the female journalist says quickly, “Mister Arrigo, it’s good to see you out and about. Where have you been keeping yourself?”
The guy next to her asks, “Are you here with someone?”
“I am,” I respond. Isn’t that part of the reason I brought Brian here?
“Won’t you tell us about him?”
I swore to myself that I’d never talk to the press again, especially not about my personal life, but it’s so tempting, with Chase standing right there, to go into every little detail of why I like Brian.
Chase puts paid to that notion when he says, in a sing-song voice, “Yes, Philip, won’t you tell us about him?”
“No, I won’t.” I walk away.
Chase follows, and he pulls me off to the side, into the little alcove where the doors to the kitchen are when this place functions as a restaurant. “You know, if you don’t speak to them, they’re just going to make something up.”
“I don’t care.”
“Don’t you? Then maybe I should make up something for them.”
“Wouldn’t be the first time.”
He rests his forearms on the wall on either side of my head, so I’m effectively pinned. Does everything have to be a show of dominance with him?
He brings his face in close to mine. I close my eyes. Six months ago, I would have considered this romantic. Six months ago, his breath tickling my cheek would have made my blood pump hot. Six months ago, his lips would have already been on me.
Now they hover just above mine. “How long do I have to wait before you come back to me?”
Blood roars in my ears. “I’m never coming back to you.”
“You might be enjoying your little fling now, but that’s not relationship material, is it?”
“And you are?” I was never so miserable as I was when I was with him, and it took it ending for me to see that. It was a messy breakup, splashed all over the press. The things he said about me… you don’t come back from that.
His voice is low, pitched at the exact level that used to drive me mad with lust. “Tell me about your new boyfriend, Philip. The one you found in the park. Tell me, what do you talk about? You’re not even the same species.”
I twist my head. I should push him away, but I’m as paralyzed as I was at the bar. How does he still hold so much power over me?
He runs a finger down the side of my face. “But us, we’re the same. You’ll come back to me, Philip, once you’ve had your fun with your bit of rough. You’ll come back to me, because no one understands you like I do.”
“I’ll never come back to you,” I croak out. “You broke my heart.”
I regret the vulnerability as soon as I show it. Admitting how much he hurt me is just another way of giving him power.
Suddenly, he pulls away. For an instant, I think he’s actually had a human reaction to my pain, but then I see Brian behind him, his hand fisted in the fabric at the back of Chase’s neck. Chase displays more of a facial expression than I’ve seen in years—possibly ever. His eyes are all white and his mouth is hanging open in surprise. Brian jerks him backwards, with a dark look, like he’s about to throw a punch.
Don’t! If he does that, Chase will have him in arrested in minutes.
He seems to share the same thought, because he lets Chase go. Chase spins, pulling his expensive jacket straight. Brian’s eyes blaze. He’s got a glass in his other hand, and he holds it out to me. “Your drink, Babe.”
I accept it, heart in my throat. Chase sneers, then shakes out his cuffs and stalks off.
Brian watches him go, with a low whistle. “Sorry if you were into that.”
“Definitely not. Thanks for the rescue. I…” I look down at the drink. “I was actually coming to save you from Jones when I got waylaid.”
“Ah ha, this place is basically Mordor. We should stick together.” His eyes dart to me and there’s a hint of uncertainty in them, despite the bravado in his voice.
“Absolutely.” I drain my glass. I need it after that encounter. Chase has somehow still left me shaky. I can’t believe Brian came to my defense like that. This is the side of him that I saw first, the Central Park Short Shit. He’s a nervous wreck when dealing with his own stuff, but damn if he doesn’t transform completely as soon as there’s someone vulnerable he needs to protect. I’m a little embarrassed and a lot turned on.
“What happened between the two of you?” He asks softly. “I mean, if you don’t mind me asking.”
I shrug. “He’s a supermodel surrounded by gorgeous sycophants. The obvious happened.”
“He cheated?”
“Oh yeah. I never expected he’d be faithful, but then it came out that he had a man for every city. Serious relationships. I just happened to be New York.”
Brian faces me. “What the fuck?”
“Yeah, pretty messed up.”
“No, I seriously mean what the fuck? He had you. And he…” Brian’s mouth moves but no words come out.
“I was the public one that he showed around, the others were secret. And of course, they all knew about me. I was the only one in the dark.”
“Shit. How did you find out?”
“Tabloids. He tried to deny it, but there were photos, so he eventually just went with it. He protected his public image by pulling me down, making it seem like his actions were completely justified. I was controlling, I was bad in bed, I was abusive et cetera.”
Brian swallows and looks away. He’s gone pale as if with nausea. It’s such a strong reaction, I’m not sure what to say.
“I wish I’d punched him,” he grinds out.
“I’m glad you didn’t. He would have used that as a springboard for a whole new publicity campaign and you would have likely ended up doing time for assault.”
Brian shivers. He shakes his head. “You wanna go back to the dancefloor? Your friends probably think we’re boning in the restroom.”
There would be worse things for them to think. I manage a smile. The idea of dancing with him again is enough to chase Chase from my mind completely. The idea of boning him in the restroom… even more so.
As we get back to the others, Jones grabs my hand and spins into my arms. She throws her head back, tickling my face with her loose hair. “Let’s salsa!”
She puts my hand on her shoulder, without missing a beat of the music, and uncoils outward. The others clear space for us. She swings her hips and then comes back to my arms. I take her other hand as we turn together. She presses her chest to mine and smiles up at me. “You’re getting rusty.”
“You caught me by surprise.” I swing her out again and she reels back in with her back against me. She does a slow dip, then dances away from me with her hands waving in the air. To show I’m not completely useless at this, I do the fancy footwork. I should be looking at my dance partner, but
I look at Brian instead. His eyebrows tell me he’s impressed.
Jones is grinning when she comes back to me, and now my confidence is bolstered, I match her moves. The next time she has her chest pressed to mine, she says into my ear, “I like him.”
“I do too.” It feels like a confession.
“Have you slept together yet?”
I roll my eyes, she twirls under my arm. To the right, to the left, to the right again. Back to me. I dip her. Our friends clap.
When she comes up again, she wraps her arms around my neck and moves her hips seductively. I hope Brian is taking notes.
“Well?”
“Why?”
“Why? Because there have been sparks flying all night and if you don’t do something soon, one of you is going to explode.”
I laugh as she spins out again, my chest full of light. Maybe it’s not just me, then. Maybe he’s interested. He said he didn’t have a boyfriend. He was, in fact, very careful to state the fact. And how he was with Chase… was that an act, or was he really feeling possessive? It’s been such a long time since I’ve felt this way. After Chase, I never thought I would again. I thought he’d shattered me in such a way it would be impossible for me to trust. And here’s this near stranger, keeping all my secrets. I catch his eyes again as Jones sashays towards me. There’s a look there that I want to believe is desire, a desire that mirrors my own.
The song ends and I kiss Jones on the cheek before moving past her, back to Brian. His eyes dart to my lips, then downwards and then to the side. He wets his lips. “You just keep getting more impressive.”
My cheeks ache. It’s like when I haven’t been to the gym for a while and I try lifting weights. My cheeks aren’t used to smiling this much. “I can show you how?”
“I’m not good at this sort of thing.”
I take his hand and draw him close. “I’ll lead.”
His body is rigid against me. I guide his hand to my shoulder. “Follow my steps.” He looks down at our feet. “One step forward, one step back.”
We fall into the rhythm and he starts to relax. I take both his hands then slowly spin him. He’s surprised at first, but he gets the idea and when he comes back to face me, he’s closer than he was before. I keep hold of his hands as we dance, my heart hammering. There’s a buzz at the base of my spine demanding I get even closer. I try my best to ignore it. This isn’t the place to make a move. Brian looks up into my eyes. His gaze is a black pit of need. I feel the rush of adrenaline across my skin. His lips are so close…
