Page 44 of Bound By Brielle (Crave & Cure Productions)

I want to dig into whoever she’s hiding from me but in truth?I’m the focus right now. It’s not often (ahem, ever) that I’m the one with juicy details from a sexual escapade. Much less with my bosses!

I take a very long and very pleasant drink of my wine, finishing the glass becausethatis how you drink wine. I set it down on the table before squaring my shoulders off to hers.

“Okay.” I launch into a ten minute recounting of our rendezvous last week, the one that ended up being the sweetest most fulfilling sleepover after the hottest most fiery sexual encounter I’ve ever had.

And I had my top on!

And we didn’t have sex!

That blows my mind and just shows you, what ends up making you happy may look nothing like what you expected.

When I’m done, I bite my lip, staring at my best friend and her wide green eyes. She blinks, processing all the scintillating information I’ve passed her way. I feel like I just slipped her the Old Maid card or the reverse in Uno. She looks so… shocked, but finally, she lets out an earth-moving sigh, then says, “Damn.”

I grin, relieved that she’s not judging me though in truth, I didn’t expect her to judge. It doesn’t change the fact that I was nervous to tell her. It’s not everyday I’m recounting a somewhat-three-way to my best friend, after all.

“So now what?” she asks, reaching for her wine until she remembers it's empty.

“Well, Quincey has been calling the last few days,” I tell her, and she straightens at my father’s name. Likely because she doesn’t want to talk about him, and I don’t blame her. Neither do I. It’s why I’ve been avoiding his calls. I raise a hand to stop what I assume is coming, even though Winnie’s face is still blank. “Don’t worry, this won’t turn into a Quincey talk. I just brought him up to say that all of the sudden he’s decided he no longer wants to ignore me—for whatever reason—and he’s been calling.”

Winnie pales. “Too much wine?” I ask, reaching out to grab her knee.

She nods slowly. “Yeah. Too much wine.” With a thick swallow, she adds, “Keep on though, I’m fine.”

I go on. “Anyway, Aug and Lance have seen my phone ringing, seen it blowing up the last few days. And they’ve been jealous. And I’ve been acting completely oblivious to it, just to rile them up a little more,” I grin, which has her finally grinning too.

“Jealous means it’s more,” she offers, her voice more delicate than before. It must be the wine setting in. When did Winnie become such a lightweight? I glance at my phone, realizing I only have forty-five minutes for a shower.

“I hope but I don’t know for sure. They’re coming over tonight. For dinner. We’re going totalk,” I say, excitement coursing through me as I fit the word with finger quotes. Idowant to talk, but I can’t help wanting more to happen. Last time left meravenous.

“When?” she asks, rising from the couch.

“Forty-five minutes.”

She lifts her hands, slipping her feet back into her slide sandals, over her socks. “I’ll get out of here. But this time, I want an update right away. No more of thisweek long waitbullshit.”

“Got it,” I say, stepping outside to watch her walk toward the stairs. She looks over her shoulder at me, hand on the black railing, big hoodie hiding half of her face when she says, “Have fun.”

And despite the fact that Lance told me to keep the door locked, I don’t. Not only do I live in theoff-campus but still owned by the schoolapartments, which means there are cameras everywhere, I also know I’m safe. No one unexpected has ever even rang my doorbell. Literally ever. No Girl Scout cookies, no cleaning supplies or pyramid schemes. I think I’ll live.

After getting undressed, I stand outside the shower stall, waiting for the water to heat, one hand under the spray. Sex pops in my mind as I stare at the water sailing over my hand.

We haven’t had sex. In fact, we’ve had only one sexual encounter. The one that I have been touching myself to since it happened. I step under the spray. Double tasking, I lather my shampoo and temper my expectations. I know we might not have sex tonight even though I hope we do. The way I feel when I’m on the set with Aug and Lance is this incredible high, and when I’m with them outside the studio, I somehow feel that same high times a million.

While rinsing and conditioning, I think about having them at my apartment. Aug’s place was so nice and if the way Lance dresses is any indication of how his place might look, well, crap. My tiny little apartment is not impressive.

Shaving my legs, I pull the razor up in languid strokes, carving through the white foam. I feel like I’m watching this shower from above, outside of my body. I’m feeling that overwhelming, all-consuming high they bring already, and they’re not even here yet.

A booming voice tears through the bathroom and I come back down to Earth when the razor falls to the ground.

“I said lock the fucking door!”

With one leg shaved and one not, I twist the water off and shove the curtain back. Okay, maybe I got that high because Icouldsense them becausethey are indeed here. Lance sounds more pissed than usual and I’m sure Aug isn’t far off. “Hang on! I’m getting out!”

“Oh perfect. Naked with the door unlocked,Jesus fucking Christ!” he growls, the second loudest thing next to my front door slamming. Slamming so hard that I’m fairly certain my framed photo ofQueenfalls off the wall.

Yanking the towel from the rack, the ends of my long hair leaving a fucking river behind me, I stomp down the hall into the living room. I point at my shattered framed Queen poster. “You broke my frame!”

Lance, who looks insanely fucking sexy in cuffed, rolled baggy jeans and a tan t-shirt, his blonde hair styled more like James Dean than I’ve ever seen, closes the distance between us with a snarl rippling his upper lip. “Apologize,” he snarls, nostrils flaring, stormy blue eyes clouding over, turning gray with anger.

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