Page 55 of The Circle

It’s as big as a New York City apartment and decked out with gold-leaf wallpaper, art deco design on the carved wood headboard of the king-sized bed—which we were told is fitted with bespoke Charlotte Thomas thousand-thread-count bedsheets that have fucking twenty-two-karat gold woven into the fabric; no shit, that’s what he said—a lounge area, and a full marble bathroom with a handcrafted gold glass basin for the sink. On a train.

Obviously, that’s the suite Alec, Danny, and I selected.

There was the quickest of moments where Nigel let his propriety and stiff-upper-lip act waver just a bit when he realized that even with an entire train of options all to ourselves, the three of us planned to stay in the same room. But then he remembered himself and said, “Very good.” He asked if Eliza would be staying with us as well, but rather than responding, she just walked past us into one of the single cabins and closed the door.

Now that the train is rolling, we’ve been given the full tour, and Alec has assured a genuflecting Nigel for the tenth time that if we need anything we won’t hesitate to ring, he finally leaves us alone in the suite and we all collapse. Danny sits down heavily onto a plush, red velvet chair next to the wet bar; Alec takes a seat on the sofa, throwing his leg over the Roman arm; and I let myself fall forward onto the bed, burying my face in rare Egyptian cotton and flecks of gold. Apparently.

“Is if insahn,” I say, muffled by all the bespoke luxury.

“What?” Danny asks.

I roll over, sit up. “This is insane,” I say again. “Even for… y’know. Us.”

Danny sighs. “Depends on how you look at it, I guess,” he says. “If you look at it coming off the heels of you killing a guy, falling off a roof, losing your memory, Alec calling me, us reconnecting for the first time in like three years, having my place shot to shit and escaping to a glass house in the woods which was then also shot to shit, you blowing Alec and his brother off the edge of a cliff, you and me running away on a boat, you finding out Alec was still alive and being held in England, us going to get him, me finding out he and Eliza had a kid together, all of us rescuing him, and then his kid being kidnapped by Brasil who didn’t, as it turns out, kidnap her after all…” He takes a long breath. “I dunno. Doesn’t seem that weird, I guess.”

“Fair,” I say. We sit quietly for a moment, the rocking rumble of the train the only sound. Finally, I stand, go to a window by Danny, lift the shade. Lights streak by. Looks like we’ve just entered the Chunnel, the underground railway tunnel that connects the UK and France. We’ve been through it before, but it never ceases to amaze me.

Humans built a tunnel under the English Channel just to get people from point A to point B quicker. The kind of engineering involved is beyond my comprehension. Danny tried to explain it to me once, but I didn’t follow. He’s better at understanding how to build things than I am. My superpower has always been tearing things down.

I stand there, staring out at nothing, when I see Danny’s reflection standing up behind me in the windowpane. He puts both his hands on my shoulders and we just hold there for a moment, looking at each other as the Chunnel whizzes by.

Alec is still sitting on the chaise, leg draped over the side in his Alec-y way. I see him smile.

“What?” I ask, turning around. Danny turns with me. Alec’s smile widens.

“Nothing,” he says, shaking his head. Then his eyes narrow and he gets a mischievous look. Like a handsome, South African devil.

“Dude, what?” Danny repeats my question.

Alec doesn’t say anything more and, instead, unbuttons his trousers, draws his zipper down, reaches into his underwear, and starts fisting his already swelling cock.

I don’t say anything. Neither does Danny. I just start laughing quietly to myself, let my head drop down to my chest, and then look to the side at Danny, whose breathing is kind of shallowing as he watches Alec.

I put my hand on his arm and he looks down at me. I smile. We turn to face each other. He takes my face in his hands, leans his head down and kisses me.

The train rocks and sways and we rock and sway with it but don’t let our mouths part. He bites at my bottom lip and I let out a mini-moan. Sliding his hands under my leather jacket and brushing past my breasts with his fingers, he pushes the jacket up and off my shoulders, forcing it to drop from my back and onto the ground.

Walking me in reverse until the insides of my knees buckle against the bed and I fall onto the mattress again, he strips off his own jacket as we move. Danny pulls away from me and I sit up on the bed, running my hands through his blond hair and looking into his eyes. He looks down and begins unlacing my boots, so I glance over at Alec—still thrown across the chaise, still touching himself—and wave him over.

“C’mere,” I say to him, but he doesn’t move. Just sits there, bathed in the opulence of the suite, rubbing himself up and down.

“Not yet,” he says. “Not yet. I just want to watch you for now.”

I start to ask him why, but before I can, Danny has my boots off and is stripping my jeans down my thighs.

Okay. If that’s what Alec wants, that’s what he wants. The guy’s been through a lot.

We all have.

So…

Might as well give him a show.