Page 20 of Date and Switch

“Right now, her name, and your name,” he nodded, rolling his eyes as if my name was his greatest frustration, “it hurts. Each time I say it, memories of the last day with her surface, and I feel as raw as I did that day.”

I held my tongue. He let me into his confidence. I barely took a breath, afraid to break that crystalline moment.

“I know I wasn’t the perfect partner. This growth period with our company, it’s been taxing. Sarah’s been working towards junior partner for nearly as long as we’ve lived together. I thought we were happy though.”

A bartender passed by, and Bryce signaled him to bring us a second round. I knew that glass would not be gracing my lips, since the single drink already made my bones feel like jelly. He returned swapping out our empties for refills almost soundlessly, as if he too knew Bryce unburdening himself was an important feat.

“She had bite marks,” he continued, clearing almost half his drink in a single gulp, “all over her breasts. When I came home. She tried to hide them, but they were impossible to miss. She said I was passionless. Robotic even.”

Perhaps it was the lack of lighting on the deck, but in that moment, Bryce looked broken. Hollow somehow. He hadn’t shifted positions or changed his posture in any way—he still leaned back in his chair, his ankle resting on the opposite knee in the chic relaxed way men did that looked ridiculously sexy—but his countenance changed. His pain in that moment was palpable.

“I’ve had a decent number of girlfriends over the years.” He continued, not waiting for me to comment. “I don’t know if I have ever had sex so intense and overwhelming that biting was my chosen outlet to pleasure. Maybe that does make me passionless.”

“I’ve never bitten anyone either. Nor has anyone bitten me. I think I’d be freaked out if someone bit me in the middle of an orgasm. It would probably be a bit of a buzz kill.”

Bryce looked over at me as if he’d forgotten he was unburdening himself to someone. He held my gaze for a beat before chuckling and running his hands over his face. He shook his head laughing at some secret joke he told himself, and took a long sip from his drink.

“So vampire kink isn’t your thing.” I shrugged, trying to add a bit of levity, “It’s not mine either. A little light bondage, maybe some soft discipline, suggested exhibitionism perhaps—but definitely not vampirism.”

Mouth agape, Bryce turned his whole body towards. He studied me as one would study a painting. For at least three beats he didn’t say anything. I feared I’d somehow offended him. The quiet solitude of the upper balcony Sky Bar shattered when Bryce Ellis threw his head back in a deep and appreciative belly laugh.

“Of all the things I expected my sweet angel to say, kink, bondage, and discipline were definitely not even in the stratosphere of possibility.”

“Why?” I asked, trying not to laugh myself. “I’m a banker, not a nun!”

Bryce erupted once again into hysterical laughter, wiping away tears as he tried to reign in his composure. Experiencing his untethered delight was an addictive elixir, and soon I too couldn’t control my giggles. Our laughter so disruptive in fact that our friend the bartender held his fingers up to his lips when he caught my eye.

“This right here,” Bryce said when he finally got his feet back under him, “this is why I call you Angel.”

He paused for a long while, licking his lips as if words hung there and he deemed them not good enough, so he erased them away and waited for a better option.

“Most days I feel like I’m drowning in a cloying tarpit of heartbreak. But every once in a while, I get a brief reprieve where I can take a breath and I feel like a human being again. It’s you. Because of you, I mean. All the times I’ve actually felt happy, have been with you. And I’m petrified that if I start calling you by your given name I’ll infect this,” he gestured to the empty space between us, “with all of the tar that is trying to drown me.”

That moment was unequivocally the moment I fell for Bryce Edward Ellis, non-elitist, from New Haven, Delaware.

thirteen

Christmas Eve brought me my own miracle. Our ship pulled into Rio at four in the morning, two hours earlier than expected. While normally I wouldn’t give a shit about the comings and goings of maritime travel, I had a whole host of plans I needed to get into place before the birthday girl woke up.

I skipped my morning in run in favor of meeting with the head chef. He would prepare a birthday cake for Sera and deliver it to our table in lieu of dessert. While our dinner companions weren’t yet friends per se, we’d shared enough meals with them that I was sure they’d feel comfortable imbibing in a birthday celebration.

The discussions of Felicity increased significantly the closer the sisters’ birthday approached. Sera mentioned quite a few times that though she was eternally grateful to be the one I picked to cruise with me, it was weird to not be packing and heading towards New York for the weekend. I couldn’t give her her twin, or New York, but I could at least make her feel special.

“Oh, it’s already been delivered. That Paolo is a master in efficiency.”

My meeting with the chef hadn’t lasted that long, and I thought for sure I had plenty of time to intercept the delivery before it arrived in our stateroom.

Sera peeked around the corner of our bedroom, phone to her ear, holding up the universal sign for one minute. Now that we’d rejoined the working world, I knew my own phone had begun beeping, buzzing, and notifying in the very early morning hours. Hers obviously had done the same.

“Oh Mom, you have no idea. While I still have decent signals, I’ll send you the pictures! It’s been a dream. I can’t believe I’m this lucky. I know, I’m being careful. Yes, Bryce is taking good care of me. No, he’s very polite. A perfect gentleman.”

A perfect gentleman who still can’t get the thought of her gorgeous pussy out of my mind. But however she wanted to sell it to her mom I was fine with. While she continued to chatter at the same rate of speed as a chipmunk, I unzipped the garment bags Paolo hung by the balcony. Esther truly had outdone herself. She sent five stunning dresses, all in vibrant jewel tones that I knew would be gorgeous against Sera’s skin tone and coloring.

Me: Esther, the package arrived, and I couldn’t be more thrilled. I can always count on you. I hope you have a very Merry Christmas, and please continue to enjoy your time off.

After a beat, I remembered I’d just sent her a message while she too was on vacation, like an asshole.

Me: And don’t reply! I just wanted you to know as soon as I saw them how much I appreciate you.

---