Page 42 of The Almost Romantic


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“Yes! They’re on the house.” Sebastian gestures grandly to the shopfront.

That seems to defuse the strange tension. Men like him like commerce. After we go inside, I pick up more boxes than I want, then we say goodbye and leave, with the unwanted chocolates in hand.

Once we’re outside, she rolls her shoulders like she’s getting the scent of him off her.

“You okay?” I ask, wrapping an arm around her again.

She hesitates before she answers with a firm nod. “I’m fine. I just feel…oily.”

“For lying to him?”

“Just the whole thing,” she says, then draws a deep breath, like she needs it to clean away the encounter.

“Do you want to talk about it?”

She shakes her head. “No, but thank you for saving the day.”

“Hardly,” I say because I don’t want to take credit. I’m just glad I helped her when she needed it.

We keep walking and I don’t let go of her. Not when we reach the next block, or the next one, or the next one.

“By the way, the sign looks really good,” I say.

“Good enough?” she asks.

“More than enough.”

Then, because I can’t help myself, rules or no rules, I say, “Text me tonight. Before you fall asleep.”

“I will.”

I want to say send me a video, but I don’t. I’m so fucking behaved I can’t stand it.

Later, when Eliza’s gone to bed, I’m clutching my phone, pacing like a lion hungry for his meal.

I take a shower. Brush my teeth. Pull on sweatpants. Trudge to bed.

Finally, my phone buzzes.

Elodie: Want to know what I pictured tonight?

Gage: Like you wouldn’t believe.

Elodie: You were standing in front of me. And I was on my knees.

Gage: Bet you’d look beautiful and filthy like that, those red lips parted.

Elodie: Your hand in my hair.

Gage: Your lipstick all over me.

Elodie: You telling me what you liked.

Gage: No, me telling you how fucking much I love it.

Elodie: All those dirty words driving me on.

Gage: Me turning into an inferno.

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