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“It was at 620 Loft and Garden on Fifth Avenue overlooking St. Patrick’s Cathedral.”
She gasps. “I’ve seen that venue, it’s an absolute dream.”
“Yeah, it was gorgeous,” I agree.
While the Feldman-Weiser wedding had all the elements of a dreamy, luxury wedding, and I enjoyed being a part of the couples’ special day, I also felt overwhelmed by the over-the-top expense and most of all the waste the event had produced by the end of the night. It was a reaction I wasn’t quite prepared for.
Though my part was small, I had loved the feeling of helping Demi and Bryce find an eco-friendly solution to their wedding favors. It’s what I enjoy about my blog. Giving people new ideas on how to make their day special in a sustainable way. Seeing the contrast at the Feldman-Weiser wedding was eye-opening. It also inspired a new post for my blog.
June and I continue our conversation, discussing upcoming projects and our plans for the next weekend. When we get back to our desks, I use what little time is left of my lunch break to edit my latest post, then upload it. Then, I get back to work.
* * *
While I insisted that Hunter not pick me up at Griffin and Emma’s in case either one of them were to see him or see me get in a car with him, he insisted that he send a car to pick me up. I’ve just strapped on my heels when I get the text notice that the driver has arrived, so I rush for the front door. When I see Griffin working on his laptop at the kitchen island, I try to quiet my feet, but it’s impossible in heels.
“Whoa.” Griffin turns around, my tiptoeing to the front door unsuccessful. “You look nice. Where are you going?”
“Out.” It’s a smart-ass response that I feel guilty for immediately, but I’m an adult. I’ve earned the right to be vague and mysterious with how I spend my time.
“With whom?” he asks. And while his tone is more curious than accusing, the fact that I’m sneaking around with Hunter only magnifies my guilt, and in turn, my annoyance. This is the issue with living with Griffin. He thinks he needs to know my every move. I know he has good intentions, like safety and all that, but sometimes a girl just needs to be wild and free. I think I’ve earned that.
“I’m going to the ballet with a friend. Okay. Bye!” I yank open the door and rush out before he can ask any more questions.
In the elevator, I get a text from Griffin. I brace myself for more questions, but it’s not what I’m expecting.
Griffin:Have fun. I love you.
I sigh, a fresh wave of guilt hitting me square in the stomach. I know Griffin wants to change the dynamic of our relationship, he’s been working on being less of the parent and more of the easygoing big brother, but it’s been twelve years since we’ve been on our own, even longer since he’s felt responsible for me. It’s not something he can shut off overnight.
I send a quick reply.
Sophie:Thanks! I’ll be home later. Love you.
Downstairs, I let the driver hold the door open for me so I can slide into the backseat. On the drive, I confirm my work training on Thursday with Natalie at The Penrose. After meeting with her yesterday, she offered me the waitressing job. I’m excited to start this week with the hope that I can accelerate the time frame to move out of Emma and Griffin’s place.
The driver drops me off at the entrance to Lincoln Center and I check my phone again for the directions Hunter sent me. They send me down an alleyway with a dead end. I’m certain I’m going the wrong way until a door on the side of the building opens and Hunter steps out. His tux is like the one he wore on Friday night, but he’s traded out a four-knot tie for a bowtie and this time when he sees me, his face lights up. Unlike Friday night where I had to act indifferent, knowing I get to talk to him and touch him tonight makes him look exponentially better.
His eyes roam over my body as I approach.
“You look beautiful,” he says when I reach the top step and finally stop in front of him. His fingers curve around my hips and slide along my ass to pull me closer.
“Thank you.” I reach up to playfully finger his bowtie. “You look pretty good yourself.”
Hunter’s hands tighten around me, lifting me, and in the next second, I’m plunged into darkness, the door he was holding open slams behind him, and I find myself pressed against a wall.
His lips drop to mine, teasing my mouth open with his tongue. It’s madness for the next minute. Our mouths fused together, enjoying deep passionate kisses. By the time he pulls back, I’m panting and my clit is throbbing.
“Welcome to the New York City Ballet,” he tells me while his hands roam over my hips, up my ribcage and over my breasts. The low-cut neckline means I didn’t wear a bra, and when Hunter’s thumbs trace over my hardened nipples, I let out a soft moan. “This is the back door where stage crew, dancers and secret fuck buddies enter.”
I start to laugh, but he captures my mouth again, and the sound is lost inside him.
He releases me with a groan.
“Fuck.” He grips my ass, his fingers gliding along the silky fabric of my dress. “You in this dress. You’re making it very hard to not drag you out of here right now.”
Hunter’s ease with admitting how much I turn him on makes me brazen. My hand drops to his crotch. I palm his hard cock through the soft fabric of his pants. Feeling how thick he is makes my pussy ache with need.
“You’re right. It is very hard.” My fingers tease over him as I tilt my head up for another searing kiss.
