“I can’t fuck him. It will complicate things.” I gesture for another round of cocktails.
“Bullshit. It would be a release, not a complication. The two of you should totally bang. You’re newlyweds, after all.” Saar points at me and the motion propels her forward. She almost slides down the sofa.
We burst out laughing again.
“Let’s dance.” Celeste stands up. “You need to sober up before you go home to your husband.” She thrusts her hips forward, still pushing her initial suggestion of banging.
And God, I do want to. As pathetic as it is, nobody has ever made my body tingle in the way Baldo used to, and still does, and he hasn’t really touched me yet either.
Definitely a long year ahead of me. Jesus. Or perhaps it could be a fun year. If we have to play house for twelve long months, we might as well make the best of it.
“I’ll join you in a minute.” Saar waves us off.
“Are you okay?” I unfold myself from the sofa and Celeste grabs my hand, pulling me with her, swaying her hips.
Saar shows me two thumbs up, but before I turn to follow Celeste, her face turns serious as her eyes dart around.
“Is she looking for someone?” I lean to whisper-yell into Celeste’s ear.
“I’ve been wondering just how well she knows the owner since she insisted this is where we should come tonight.” Celeste winks.
“Ha… you’re right.”
I’m so absorbed with my own problems, I almost missed that. Saar didn’t mention who the owner was, but she is probably hoping to run into him tonight.
“Life is too short to delve into problems. Resolve them. In the bedroom. Believe me, if you have to live with him for a year, you better release all that tension.” Celeste laughs and drags me to the middle of the dance floor.
I dive into the rhythm, and with the help of all the alcohol I’ve consumed, I finally let loose and forget about my fake husband, our living situation, and his romantic gestures that he immediately contradicts with his behavior.
Hours later, Saar insists we’re leaving. As we shove through the dancing crowd, I follow her gaze to the upper level where a well-dressed man—Jesus, he’s gorgeous—stands with two women cozying up to him. His glare sends shivers down my spine.
“Who is that?” I ask.
“Nobody,” Saar snaps, making two things crystal clear. He isn’t nobody, and she doesn’t want to talk about him right now. What’s up with that?
I forget all about it in the cab, immersed in my own conundrum. Baldo turns me on. That’s not something that happens often.
When it comes to physical connection with men, I stay in my head and can’t let go completely.
Would it be different with him? Could I get past my own baggage and unravel with the man who was supposed to be my first?
That night…
“Ma’am, we’re here.” The driver’s voice startles me, interrupting my memory. Thank God for that.
I straighten up and pay the fare. Stumbling to the entrance, I try and fail to find my keys. Groaning, I reach for the bell, but the door opens.
My eyes meet Baldo’s and I freeze. The man is breathtaking. And clearly pissed.
“Honey, I’m home.” I hiccup.
I’m vaguely aware my sarcasm isn’t the right weapon at the moment, but my drunken mind offers it anyway.
I step forward and lose my footing. Baldo snakes his arm around my waist and keeps me upright. Unfortunately, I’m now flush against the planes of his impressive body.
He’s still wearing his perfect white shirt and his suit pants, but the fabric doesn’t prevent my body from heating up at the feel of every dip and bulge of this perfect man.
I meet his eyes and my breath hitches, or perhaps the oxygen dissolves around us because my lungs struggle to get their fill.