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He is, by far, the color king in the family. He has a bright green Christmas suit he wears to the office Christmas party every year.
PIPER DELMONICO
Does he have an extra one? I bet I could make a pretty convincing offer to get you into it, if so.
FITZ WESTFALL
You sure I can’t convince you to come over tonight?
PIPER DELMONICO
I told you, needy, I’ve got to get this commission done this week or I’m going to have to push this fitting for the second time.
FITZ WESTFALL
I can just sit there and be quiet and watch. I won’t distract you. Promise.
PIPER DELMONICO
First of all, creepy. Secondly, that’s a filthy fucking lie and we both know it.
WhenIsuggestedthatPiper invite some of her friends over to enjoy the pool on the first 90 degree summer weekend, I had not expected that group to include my sister.
Was I disappointed by the development? Absolutely not. Because the second she asked, having originally invited Seer, who invited Frannie, I knew it was the perfect opportunity to let Fran try to scoop her up for our marketing department. Selfish on my part? Maybe. But there’s a reason her department has one of the highest retention rates in the company, and it isn’t our CCO, Brent, and his less-than-sparkling personality, let me tell you that.
So when I’m standing in the hallway, digging through a tub in the closet marked “Summer Stuff,” I remind myself that my ulterior motives of wanting Piper at the office with me are secondary when it comes to her happiness.
Until she steps out of the hall bathroom in a bright pink bikini. Then my ulterior motives are all I can think about because…damn.
She blushes at the low whistle I let out, grabbing at her waist where the navy pinup-style bottoms come to an end. The strip of flesh between the top of the shorts and the bottom of the halter top, and the way the top presses her chest together, is enough to illicit an immediate reaction from me, and when I pull her into my chest, her eyes widen, because she can feel it too.
“Stop that,” Piper laughs, batting my hand away. This is how it’s been the last few weeks - when we’re together, I can’t keep my hands away. Maybe it’s the newness of all of this?
Olivia and I were considered an item long before sex came in the picture. But I’ve never really felt this need before, this insistent hammering inside my head to be closer, to know her in a way no one else does.
Fuck. I feel like a horny teenager all over again.
“This is a new development,” she says somewhat absently, looking down at her chest. I quirk my head to the side, confused. “My body has changed a lot in the last few years.” With her arms around my neck, she leans back. “When I got my IUD, I’d been on the pill for, like, ten years. Between the hormone changes, sobriety, and…” she trails off, making an embarrassed face, the same one she does when she’s talking about Mickey.
Slowly, she’s opened up to me about it - about what she’s gone through in the last few years. Sure, she had no problems telling me off when I jumped to conclusions all those weeks ago. But truly sharing with me the things she’s been through in the time since I’d last seen her? That was going to take a lot of trust building, something we were slowly working on.
So instead of making her feel uncomfortable for talking about her past, I just give her waist a squeeze, letting my hands fall to her ass, giving one cheek a pat. She rolls her eyes, nearly automatic with how much I’ve admired that ass recently.
“I’ve just never had tits before.” I choke back a huff of laughter as she presses her shoulders together, her cleavage becoming more prominent.
“Did Piper just say tits?”
Piper snorts. “Did Fitz?”
The doorbell rings behind me, and she looks back with wide eyes. When she pushes away from my chest, she smooths her hands over her waist like she’s fixing a dress that isn’t there.
“Do I look ok?” she asks. I have to suppress a grin - she’s nervous. Nervous to see Seer, to see Frannie - and whoever else she invited.
That question is quickly answered when I open my front door and an unimpressed looking Alex Calloway stands on my porch, a towel over one shoulder and a tote over the other. Seer and Frannie stand behind her, Frannie clearly amused by Alex’s immediate attitude.
“These two may be sober Sallys,” Alex says, pushing past me and toward Piper, who laces her arm through Alex’s as though it’s automatic. Alex wags her finger between Piper and Seer. “But mamas,” she starts, gesturing between herself and Fran, “need margaritas.”
“Pronto,” Frannie adds, as if it isn’t 10:30 a.m.
