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Of course, I can. I am not the same girl I was three weeks ago. Being with Garrett, letting him watch me and finding my voice to really ask for what I want with him, has changed me. I used to be so afraid of being physically vulnerable with men, but I’m not afraid anymore.
RULE #26: WHEN YOU’RE ON TOP, YOU’RE IN CONTROL.
Garrett
“Was Mia at the club the other day?”
I look up from my laptop to see Emerson leaning against the doorframe. “Um…maybe. Who told you that?”
“I heard it from Charlotte who heard it from Eden.” There is a smug grin threatening to show itself on his face, so I focus back on the contracts for the event, instead of leveling him with a petty glare.
“Well, go ahead,” I mutter.
“Go ahead what?”
“Say you told me so.”
He laughs. “I’m not sure it’s something I should rub in your face. I’m glad you two have made up, that’s all.”
“Well, she still hates me,” I reply, leaning back in my chair and looking up at him.
“Even after five hours in room twelve?”
“Yep. Turns out sex is better that way. When we hate each other.”
“Hmm,” he replies, deliberating this idea, and I can tell he doesn’t believe me.
Not that he should. The hate part isn’t real. It’s just the convenient lie I tell myself to avoid what’s really going on…which is that I’m getting in too deep.
“How is the event planning going?” he asks, noticing the contract on my computer.
“I wanted to talk to you about that, actually. Mia had a fantastic idea that I want to run by you.”
As I detail everything Mia and I discussed, he looks impressed.
“I think that’s fucking genius,” he replies. “I told you it would be smart to bring her on.”
“You said you weren’t going to say ‘I told you so,’” I reply with a crooked smile.
“Couldn’t help myself.” He lingers in the doorway, before adding, “You should get a room with her.”
My head turns in his direction. “Excuse me?”
“You said it yourself, we need something fresh in the hall, so get a room with her. Or put her in one alone. Or with Eden.”
“Let me stop you right there,” I interrupt him.
“What? She’s a sex worker herself. Why are you—"
“Please don’t say that,” I reply, rubbing my forehead.
“What? Call her a sex worker? That’s what she is. There’s no shame in it.”
“I know there’s no shame, but I mean…how would you feel if it was Charlie? Flashing her puss—"
“Watch it,” he barks.
“My point exactly.”
