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“Good,” I reply.
“Now, eat,” he commands again, and this time, I listen.
Once my sandwich is nothing but crumbs on the tiny white plate, he takes me to bed. The hint of sunrise is apparent through the window, which he quickly closes with thick, blackout curtains. Then we climb into bed together, half-naked and with no intention to have sex. But I curl up onto the pillow next to him and we face each other.
And although there’s no heat between us at the moment, I still revel in the feel of his gentle hands roaming my body appreciatively. He strokes my soft rib cage and dances his fingers along the ridges of my spine. He glides his fingers over my ass and back up to caress my belly in a way that makes me lightheaded. I’ve always loved my own body, but it’s an entirely different thing to be with a man who appreciates it just as much, if not more.
As we lie here, I realize there are so many conversations ahead of us. Stories and secrets to be told and more than enough time to get through them all. And I do forgive him. Honestly, I probably forgave him even before he apologized. I just needed time to process my anger. Because, deep down, if I’m being honest with myself…I wanted Drake to be Garrett. In my mind, he always was. There was norealDrake.
There always has been and only ever will be Garrett for me. My life has been a mess of failed attempts and indecision, but he is the one thing I can be sure of.
“Was that night you saw me on the app the first time you saw me like that? Attracted to me, I mean.”
“Yes,” he replies without hesitation. “I hope that doesn’t hurt your feelings, but before that night, you were too young or toomy stepsisterto be anything else.”
“It doesn’t hurt my feelings,” I whisper through the darkness. “Although I’ve been crushing on you since I was old enough to start crushing on boys.”
He laughs. “Well, obviously.” He drags me closer, wrapping his arms around my waist and bringing me to his chest, so there’s not an inch of space between us. “I’m sorry I was such an asshole all those years. You didn’t deserve that.”
“Whywereyou so mean to me?” I ask, tracing patterns over the skin of his chest.
“Because that’s how I protected you, Mia.”
With that, I freeze and glance up at him. “Protected me from what?”
“Me. Don’t you remember what a mess I was?”
“No,” I reply, honestly. “I don’t remember you being a mess. I remember you being outgoing and fun and spontaneous. But I didn’t see the mess.”
“That’s because I hid it from you. I wanted you to see the good stuff. Not the weaknesses.”
Perching up on my forearms, I glare at him. “It’s not a weakness, Garrett. And I didn’t see the mess because I love the mess. I love you for the good and the bad. Plus, I have messes too.”
He lets out a heavy breath, his blue eyes mirroring mine. And suddenly, I completely understand why he lied for so long, why he kept the fake profile as Drake. Because that was the only way for him to open up without putting himself at risk. But now, without that fake profile, he has nothing protecting him. And yet, he’s still here. He still trusts me enough to let me in.
Brushing my hair out of my face, he pulls my face down to his and kisses my lips with tenderness.
“You know how much you mean to me, right?”
Tears prick my eyes again as I nod. “Yes.”
“I really did try to hide for so long, but you…”
With a smile on my face and his eyes on mine, I reply, “I see you.”
RULE #38: SOME THINGS DO LAST FOREVER.
Garrett’s epilogue
There are three things I’m serious about: running, a good suit, and the bombshell blonde drawing a crowd in room four. This shit never gets old. Tonight, she’s in a short school-girl skirt, her tits hanging out of the front of her unbuttoned blouse, bouncing beautifully as she humps her pillow like it’s a damn rodeo bull.God damn, she’s good at this.
Every night, she takes a room, and I swear people show up at the club just for this. And while that caveman urge to go in there and take her for myself is still there, the sense of pride I feel watching her is unmatched. When I take her home later, I’ll get it all out of my system anyway.
When her set comes to an end, she stands with her cheeks flushed and her hair a mess, and her gaze finds me through the window, shooting me a devious smile before she pulls the curtain closed.
The hall is at max capacity, as is our VIP membership. Turns out there are a lot of rich people in Briar Point who like to watch other people fuck. Color me shocked.
Does it bother me that most of these people have seen me naked and fucking like an animal on stage after having my prostate publicly prodded? No. Not anymore. In the three months since that night at the club, I’ve even been dragged into the voyeur rooms a time or two.
