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“Bring. Him,” she said, and gave me a knowing look, one of approval.
Had my attraction to him been that obvious? I decided not to think about that too much and called the hotel and asked for our room.
Tristan answered. “Hello.”
His voice was rough and vibrated across my already humming nerves.
“Hey, it’s me,” I said. “Do you want to come for drinks with me and the show people at Pour Decisions?”
He was quiet a moment.
I had to see him. I wanted to be with him. I was excited and confused about what we’d done earlier. And I was still worried about him and his state of mind after what he’d been through earlier today. If he came, we’d have a safe, no-pressure social situation as our next time together instead of being alone in the hotel room.
“Please?” I asked.
“When?” His voice was neutral, offering no sign as to what he was thinking.
Layana and Glitter were getting ready, waving me on.
“Now,” I said.
“I’m on my way.” He hung up.
This would be safe and good—a nice group activity. But also, as nervous as I was, my heart was full of butterflies. I couldn’t wait to see Tristan again.
TWENTY-EIGHT
???
Ever since Morgan left me in the arcade, I’d been reeling.
We’d crossed a line.Ihad crossed a line. Did I regret it?No.Not even for a second. Did it worry me that my actions could break our fragile truce? Absolutely.
I didn’t know who I was, and for the first time since I’d lost my memories, that scared me. I’d been crashing out of control, and then she’d followed me from the Lacuna building. I’d made her orgasm, selfishly taking her pleasure as my own. Watching her in the throes of ecstasy, and knowing it was my hand that had carried her there, was the hottest thing I’d ever seen.
The sweetness of her scent still coated my nostrils. The heady aftermath of our union still clouded my brain. Now that I’d touched her, felt her clench around my fingers, I craved her more fiercely than ever before.
Where did we stand now? Did I owe her an apology? Was this gathering a more comfortable setting for her to say goodbye?
I paused on the filthy sidewalk and stared at the neon sign above the door markedPour Decisions.The letters flickered erratically. After the sun set, that flaring oscillation was bound to give someone a seizure.
As I walked in, the stink of cheap beer, Axe body spray, and regret hit me like a punch in the gut. The lighting was dim, the music was loud, and the crush of bodies thrashing together between standing tables suggested all who entered should grab a tetanus shot and an STI screening on their way out.
My flip flops stuck to the splotchy floor as I pressed inside. A man flailing his arms to the beat swung a little too hard to the left and smacked me in the shoulder. A woman in heels stomped on my foot.
“Oh, sorry,” the woman said.
I gritted my teeth and pressed forward.
Through the crowd, I spotted a head of copper hair pulled up in a high ponytail. Morgan. As I approached her, my stomach twisted in knots.
As if sensing me, she spun around, flaring the flowy skirt of her yellow sundress. Her golden eyes landed on me, flashing with a gleeful sparkle. A wide grin overtook her face as she reached out and grabbed my hand.
Was this one last bit of fun before the goodbye? Or was this whole night as simple as her wanting to spend time with her friends, and considering me one of them?
All thoughts fizzled into the ether as she pulled me flush against her and began to sway. She was soft and bright and glorious. I moved along with her, feeling the thrill of her body pressed against me, and reflected her infectious grin back at her. She laced her fingers in mine.
“How was the show?” I asked.
