Page 43 of State of Ruin

But it’s not enough.

It’s nowhere near enough.

CHAPTER 23

Elyse

Sinclair:

The only issue with this exclusivity thing is the once-a-week part. What’s with that bullshit?

Me:

Oh yeah? What do you want to do about it?

See you more often, obviously. When can I see you again?

You can “see” me tonight at Alchemy. But if seeing is a euphemism, then that’s rough for you

Believe me. I’ll “see” you there. When can I get you back in my bed?

I’ll take you through my shifts later. Some of us work for a living.

I work. Nepo babies work. (Well, some of us.) But I’m a very good multitasker

If that’s your way of suggesting I go to your office to blow you, hard pass.

Jesus Christ. I won’t get a scrap of work done today, you little minx

Whoops

*Sets reminder to ask Katrin to put that spanking bench in a room later and give you a longer break*

Your excessive horniness is not my problem

On that you are very much mistaken.

The period at the end of that last sentence feels ominous. Why is that so hot?

He didn’t get me on the spanking bench that night. He didn’t get anything more than a few kisses in Katrin’s office on my break. Clearly, he doesn’t have as much sway with my boss as he’d like to think. That, or he’s all bark and no bite.

(I suspect the second one.)

Over the next couple weeks, I exist in a state of exhausted, orgasm-addled delirium as Sinclair and I meet up at his apartment whenever we can. One time, he suggests that I reduce my Alchemy shifts by one a week and he makes up my lost wages financially.

Suffice it to say, he never dares to suggest that again.

My days are mostly like regular days: I do occasional casting calls and help Dad with the school run and take Jambon for walks and Sylvie to her PT—she’s making progress for sure and spending more time at home out of her chair and limping gingerly around the house on crutches. Sylvie was regular-person fit before the accident. She ran a little, did the occasional online Pilates class. But the rehabilitation process has been so exhausting that she told me if she’d known she was going to get taken out by a car, she’d have spent her entire life exercising in preparation. The toll the PT takes on every muscle in her body is no joke.

On my free evenings, I go to Sinclair’s apartment, where we eat and chat and either fuck like horny teenagers or make love, depending on our mood. Sometimes both. His driver drives me home around midnight, and I hate leaving every single time. Sinclair hates it too, I know, but I don’t see any way around it. I won’t abandon Sylvie—or the others. Our little system just about works, but it has zero slack. My family knows I’m dating someone, but they absolutely do not need to know the details.

On the nights I’m working, Sinclair tries to get home early. I stop by his apartment on my way to Alchemy, where he feeds me—usually things his chef has preprepared, to save on time. Then he comes to Alchemy with me—always in his car, always entering via the basement parking garage, staying a couple of hours and loitering around the bar area, getting roasted by his buddies when they’re there, and making puppy-dog eyes at me.

All I can say is, I’m glad everyone in that club is NDAed up to their eyeballs, because he isn’t exactly subtle. But when he’s around for my shifts, I have this warm, gooey glow of happiness, and I suspect he feels the same way. Right now, Alchemy is the safest place for us, aside from Sinclair’s apartment. It’s the only semipublic place where I know our interest in each other won’t get leaked.

“I want you to know,” he says one evening, when I’m draped over his chest in bed and his arms are banded tightly around me, “I’d shout about us from the rooftops if I could. I want to take you out and show you off to the world. But—it’s complicated, mainly because of my profile. That sounds douchey, but I don’t want you getting pulled into all my shit.”

“It’s okay,” I tell him, adjusting my cheek to his chest so I can feel his heartbeat. I’d rather do that than look into his eyes right now. “I get it, honestly.”