Page 99 of Summertime Friends

Now

I didn’t sleep at all last night. Or the night before. Or the night before that.

Every time I closed my eyes, pictures of Emerson filled my head. Being awake isn’t any better. At least when I closed my eyes, I wasn’t regretting what I was about to do. If Chloe hadn’t shown up when she did, I would have kissed her.

If she would have said yes, I would have taken States into the bathroom. Kiss the spot right below her ear that she loves, the same place I could feel her heartbeat, and breathe in my favorite smell. Letting my hands roam down her curves till they were at the edge of the temptatious sundress she was wearing. Sliding my hand up the bottom, I’d press the palm of my hand between her thighs, gauging how badly she wanted me too. From the fire in her eyes when I had my arms on either side of her, I knew she did. I’d kiss her again while my fingers moved her underwear to the side. I’d drink in every moan and breathy release from her mouth until she released down below, allowing myself to become cross-faded from her smell and sounds. Somehow finding the strength to pull away, I’d head to the door but not before glancing back at her, pulling her to me, and telling her,“It’s you and me. Forever.”

That’s what this is. Or at least me being hers forever.

It’s not like it would have been the first time we hooked up in the loo.

This would be a. . . tease. A blast from our damn good past that she decided we weren’t enough for, so she wouldn’t get enough to satisfy her three-year drought of me.

One time in a bathroom would never satisfy me.

Great. Now I’m straining against my zipper again, replaying another what-if scenario in my head.

You’d think I’d be used to these fantasies and know how to resolve the situation, but each time one crosses my mind, my body’s response is stronger than any mental willpower I have. What’s worse is that in these dreams, nine out of ten times, it’s just us together—in a real relationship, her waking up in my arms, dancing around my kitchen, reading books in a café, and traveling the world.

My greatest fantasy is to be with her forever.

Callum draws my attention back to my unpleasant reality by throwing open the door to my office.

We are in the space we purchased last summer for our American office. It’s on the forty-fifth floor in a building right off Michigan Avenue. We have three hundred and sixty-degree views surrounding us. One side lends views to the lake, the other to the river, and two to the skyline.

For the past two years, we’ve been working to get to this to this point. When Cal brought up the idea of opening a hotel in the US again, this time with a complete how-to-get-there plan, I knew that was the next step.

“Good morning, sunshine,” Cal sings as he slides into one of the chairs in front of the oversized, angular glass desk. “Someone looks like they slept well.” He’s laughing.

“Shut it.”

“You know, these views are great, but I think you can do better for your office.” He’s grinning at me with his, ‘I want something’ smile.

“You want this office?” I ask.

“Since you are offering. . . I accept.” He raises his hand and brings it down in a cha-ching motion while mouthing ‘yes.’ I roll my eyes at him.

“We need to figure out the pool situation,” I inform him.

“Do you think we should have the same food and drinks as Cleopatra or a different concept?” He flips through the stack of spiral-bound plans I handed him. “Personally, I think a separate concept and making the pool public would give us the potential for extra revenue and increase awareness for those who live in Chicago.”

“I agree.”

“Different food concept, then?” he asks.

I nod. “Yes. Blake, Ben’s fiancé, had a suggestion when we were in our last marketing meeting. Bright colors and a tropical oasis give it a Miami or Ibiza-in-Chicago vibe. I had Carlos put together a potential food and drink menu. Take a look.” I flip around the iPad I’m holding.

We review the plans, modifying a few cocktail names and recipe overviews, before sending them back to Carlos to get started. Callum also shares his thoughts about adding another rooftop bar with me.

“It would be another million dollars, at least,” I remind him. “And we don’t even know if we’ll be successful here yet. Plus, it would potentially delay the opening.”

“Why are you doubting us? You know we will be. I know it’s a big investment right now, but think about it in a year or two. If we don’t do it, and don’t have the opportunity to seize it, would you regret it?”

Regret. A word and emotion I’m becoming way too familiar with.

Releasing a sigh, I nod in agreement. “Yes. And we have the budget?”

“Would I even suggest it if we didn’t? Combining will save time and money with the pool. We can close the water after dark but leave the bar open, dining included,” he says.

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