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Feeling low, I forced a smile.How could I allow myself to get emotionally attached to Ethan? It was meant to be sex. Hot sex. And nothing else. But here I am, feeling heavy and bleak.
Sheridan cleared the table of newspapers, books, and bills and set our plates down.
“So what happened to you last night?” I asked.
“I fell asleep.” She flipped the omelette onto a plate. “Sorry. I so wanted to come. Was it good?”
“People responded well to my songs.”
“You didn’t come home.” Her eyebrows rose.
“Ethan was there.” I toyed with my food. “I ended up at Lovechilde’s. In his penthouse suite.”
Her face lit up. “You don’t say. I bet that was pretty swish.”
Sipping tea, I nodded slowly.
“So why do you look so dark?”
“It’s all so fucking confusing. I slept with the devil.” I sighed.
“Mm… great sex, though. I mean the devil would be a better shag than the other one.”
My brows gathered, and I grimaced. “Jesus? Ew. That’s so uncouth.”
She laughed. “You’re agnostic, so it shouldn’t offend, should it?”
“No.” I sighed. “I guess not.” I took a forkful of omelette, placed it on my bread, and took a bite. “This is nice, by the way.”
“Thanks. Why are you pissed off?”
“Ethan’s an unethical developer. He’s on the wrong side of everything I believe in. I just wish he wasn’t so fucking good in bed.”
She laughed. “Just go with it, Bel. You can’t change the world.”
I released a breath. “No. I can’t. But I can at least try to do the right thing.”
“By not shagging hot billionaires?”
My phone beeped, and I went to look.
It was a message from Ethan.I had a great night. Love your music. Bridesmere doesn’t look the same without you.
I smiled, and Sheridan asked, “From your hot billionaire?”
I nodded and put my phone away without returning a message.
“You’re not going to respond?” Her eyes widened.
“Nope.” I squared my shoulders. We were too different. It was nice sex. Okay, not nice, astounding. But I had to be realistic. Men like Ethan did not stick around. And if I allowed myself, I would fall in deep and lose my heart to him.
I was already drowning in a sea of emotion, telling myself it was just hot sex, when in reality, I couldn’t stop thinking about how he kissed me softly, held me while we slept, and stroked my hair or his soft fingertips and that gentle, almost shy smile he gave me whenever our eyes collided. If it was just hot sex, why the tenderness?
My eyes pricked with tears. I’d already grown attached. And it wasn’t just from all those multiple orgasms.
I ate my meal with Sheridan staring at me as though I’d lost my senses. I suspected she wanted more stories about Ethan to cosy up to like one does a romance novel with that foregone conclusion of eternal love. This was real life, though, and women like me did not end up with men like Ethan Lovechilde.
“So are you at least going to see him again?” she asked.
