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“Fuck,” I said, mad at myself for not thinking to check. I’d been so caught up in the moment that it never even occurred to me to look.
I’d always been a very private person, so the idea that Xavier — and possibly even Jackson — had seen Adrian and I having sex was a confronting one. I sank down on my bed, so embarrassed I wanted to fall through the floor and run as far away as I could.
“We all promised to protect you,” Xavier continued, as he sat next to me. “And he crossed a boundary. I won’t let it happen again.”
Then he noticed the duffle bag.
“Are you leaving?” he asked. “You don’t have to. Adrian’s only an intern. If he took advantage of you, or hurt you, I’ll fire him on the spot.” His voice lowered to a growl. “I don’t want predators working for me.”
“No!” I said, shocked at the wordpredator. “I wanted to, I swear. I was only thinking about leaving because I feel like I’m fucking everything up again.”
Xavier considered this.
“It’s not your fault if he took advantage of you.”
“He didn’t,” I promised. “I think…” I replayed the events in my head. They’d blurred together, all our touching and undressing melting into a happy montage, but I was certain I’d kissed him first. I looked Xavier straight in the eyes. They were green, with tiny flecks of brown, and softer than I’d expected, given the toughness he exuded. “I’m pretty sure I started it.”
Xavier seemed to accept this. He looked back at my bag and sighed.
“Why don’t you stay? We’re getting Turkish food delivered, if you’d like some.”
I smiled.
“That sounds good.”
“I’ll talk to Adrian,” Xavier said. “And Jackson, too. Make it clear that you’re off-limits. The last thing we want is to make you feel overwhelmed, or have you running out into dangerous situations because of us.”
Now that Xavier had taken sex with Adrian off the table, I felt a quiver in my pelvis, and while I knew that boundaries were a sensible idea, especially if we were going to live within close proximity, nothing made me want something more than being told I couldn’t have it.
“Okay,” I said, overruling my vagina’s protests. “I like the sound of that.”
* * *
Dinner was awkward at first.I didn’t know whether to make eye contact with Adrian or not, and knowing that Xavier and Jackson had watched what we’d done made it even more confusing. I couldn’t believe they’d seen me naked!
I concentrated on my food, which was delicious — smoky meat and thick breads, with eggplant and cucumber dip — and listened to the men as they talked. Thankfully, they stayed away from the topic of what Adrian and I had done in the gym and focused on work. In particular, a client who’d called to request a booking to get an elephant’s face tattooed on his pubic area, with his cock as the trunk.
“You didn’t book it in, did you?” I asked, incredulous.
“Of course not,” Xavier said. “On the one hand, your body, your choice. On the other, I try to avoid giving people tattoos they’re going to regret.”
“You’d know all about that,” Jackson said with a wink. I ran my finger over the linework of my phoenix tattoo. It was healing nicely and hadn’t itched at all since I’d been at Helen’s. Although maybe that was because I was too distracted to notice.
I hoped Helen was coping without me. Health-wise, she was fine now that her cancer was in remission, and she didn’t seem to have any trouble getting to the shops. But still, I worried about her, especially since her kids lived so far away.
“What’s up with the dumb questions?” Adrian asked. “I had someone call to ask if we could tattoo them with gold paint instead of ink.”
“What’s the dumbest enquiry you’ve ever had?” I asked, trying to keep the subject away from things I didn’t want to talk about.
“Whether I could erase a tattoo,” Jackson said. “With an actual pencil eraser.”
“A guy wanted his son’s name and date of birth,” Adrian said. “But couldn’t remember when the kid’s birthday was.”
“Do you have to use needles?” Xavier said, slapping his forehead with his open palm. “I mean… how dumb can you get?”
“Dumb enough to have your boyfriend’s name permanently drawn on your chest,” I said as I triumphantly popped a piece of Turkish bread in my mouth, but Jackson shook his head.
“Nah, I mean, I get it,” he said. “You’re not the first person who’s done that. Look at Johnny Depp.”
