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“I wasn’t referring to the physical environment. I meant these people.”
“I know. Same. The people in your building are kind of chrome and concrete compared to the people here, don’t you think?”
We both turn toward the guard, who at that moment is as perfect a statue as any punch line could ask for.
“You ready to head back to the house?”
“You ready to let me remind you that, without an audience, I’m pretty talented with a stick and balls?”
I groan. “Good thing you don’t earn your living onstage … oh wait …”
Getting Will to agree to a digital sunset and to turn off his phone at nine p.m. once we started spending nights together required my best negotiation skills—and not a small number of sexual favors. Not that I don’t fully enjoy the trade-off.
It’s after midnight, and I am too tired for that part of our goodnight routine. But to escape the nightmare portion of Will’s evening, I have to open my e-reader before I can close my eyes.
“What’s your pleasure? Fiction or nonfiction tonight?” I roll on my side to face him. He’s on his back with his hand behind his head, appearing to stare at the ceiling. He doesn’t answer.
“Will?”
“Can we talk instead?” he asks, still looking up.
His tone—and that he seems to be intentionally not looking at me—turns the sushi in my belly into a spiky puffer fish.
“Words no woman ever wants to hear from a sexy, naked man in her bed.”
He makes a weak effort at a smile.
“Roll on your side?” He twists his body and bumps his knees against my thigh to nudge me to curl in the other direction. Once I’m wrapped in his arms, his chest and stomach totally enveloping my back, we take three deep breaths together. We’ve got this evening relaxation thing nailed.
After what feels like too long, Will still hasn’t spoken, so I break the silence.
“Fun night, eh?”
“Mm.”
“No?” I ask, confused by his noncommittal sound.
“Yeah. It was fun. It was … I’ve not felt that relaxed with a group of strangers … well, ever.”
Excellent! I knew he’d like Nick. Even though they’re not quite the same species, they’re both from the same family-money planet with all kinds of expectations on them.
“Nick’s a good guy,” I say, hoping to speed up this chat since I’m bone-tired and being wrapped in Will’s arms is not helping me stay awake and focused.
More minutes pass, and when Will speaks, his voice startles me. I’d fallen asleep.
“Thanks for casting whatever magic spell you did to make everyone pretend like I wasn’t me. It was nice to be treated like a regular asshole for a night. Like I was the same as these guys—and women.”
“You kind of are.” I yawn. “I mean, one bankruptcy and you would be.”
First, he laughs. Then he sighs. “Bankruptcy actually makes the super rich even richer. It’s a fucked-up system.”
More silence.
“Will, I am so tired. What do you really want to talk about?”
“Us. What we think we’re doing,” he says.
I never expected to know what it might feel like to swallow the thousand thorns of a blackberry vine, but the sharp pain in my stomach suggests I now have a very good idea.
