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“Except for the meeting we have with Jax.”
“Oh, right,” he said, popping off the wall, standing up. “Completely forgot about that. Wonder why?” he said with a smirk.
I couldn’t help the shit-eating grin that covered my face as his eyes roamed my body.
He leaned down again, covering my lips with his as he guided me back under the water for another orgasm.
* * *
It wasa little after eleven when we finally left, our shower rendezvous consuming much of our morning. We drove along, listening to music, talking, and getting to know each other as friends do. I told him how Audrey, Jenny, Lauren, and I met and some of the fun and silly adventures we had been through growing up. We exchanged stories, talked about college, traveling, and our careers.
I found Michael incredibly easy to talk to when we weren’t bickering about the hotel. I already found him charming, charismatic, and sexy. But now, spending one-on-one time together, I was getting to see the funny, silly, lighthearted side of him. His genuine interest in me, my work, and my life made it surprisingly easy for me to open up.
There were two things he seemed to avoid talking about: the hotel and his father. He shared stories from his childhood, about growing up with his mother while his brother stayed with his father, how their relationship was a bit strained and dysfunctional.
We reminisced about our first crush, our first kiss, and the first time we had sex. I told him a little more about Tim, our working relationship, and his infidelity. I was one hundred and ten percent open and honest about everything that I had been through, even finally admitting that I had stupidly given him the money and how I had successfully gotten it back. I left out the details of him asking for another chance when we met up yesterday. His ploy to get me back didn’t matter in the least to me, and it didn’t hold any significance regarding my future. Or to Michael.
“Sounds like the fucker didn’t deserve you,” he said without hesitation. He was so matter of fact about his conclusion, and it left me a little confused. Even though Tim didn’t deserve me, I still felt lost because I didn’t yet know or believe in what I did deserve.
It came out of nowhere when he asked about my parents. What could I really tell him? There wasn’t much to the story.
Swallowing the lump in my throat, I started, “My dad died in a plane crash when I was five years old. My mother left shortly afterward because she ‘never intended on being a single mom.’ I’m not sure she ever wanted me to begin with.” I shrugged. “She gave up her rights, signed me over to my grandparents. I don’t remember much, other than being devastated about my father’s death. I was too young to really grasp what it meant to lose my dad,” I sighed. “But I still get sad about it every now and then.”
He reached over and took my hand. “That’s understandable,” he said and sent me a kind smile. “What about your mom?”
“What about her?”
“Do you ever—”
“Wonder about her?” I finished for him.
“Yeah.” His thumb ran in small circles over the back of my hand.
“I did for a while when I was younger. But”—a heavy sigh left me—“I just accepted it for what it was. Audrey helped me a lot with that. She had a similar situation with her mother.”
He nodded, and we both became quiet for a moment.
“I’ve never been in love,” he admitted out of the blue, breaking into my thoughts.
My head whipped around. “Seriously?” I wasn’t entirely shocked to hear this, but his confession left me in a state of confusion. Should this come as a relief or a warning?
“With my parents’ divorce, I have just always been a little put off by the wholetrue lovething. Plus, I’ve been too busy focusing on my work, my career. I haven’t had a whole lot of time for serious relationships.” His shoulders rose in a shrug. “I don’t know.”
“I guess that makes sense. But don’t you get lonely?”
He shot me an arrogant look.
“Right. You’re never lonely.” I shook my head. “Figures.”
“I’m not a complete shmuck, Siena. I’ve always been honest with the women I’ve been with. I don’t have time for games. Or lies. Even if I haven’t been serious about my relationships, I don’t think my partners deserve dishonesty.” His fingers absentmindedly tapped the steering wheel in time with the music. “I’ve just always found it’s best for me to keep things simple, uncomplicated.”
“Yeah. No strings attached.” My eyes were glued to the road in front of us. “I get it. Simple. Uncomplicated. Seems to work for you.” I chanced a glance.
“So far, so good. For you, too, right? Your rules?”
An incoming call halted our conversation. “Allan fucking Blaire,” Michael muttered, pressing the ignore button, sending his father to voicemail. I didn’t know whether to be relieved or insulted.
I stared out the window, our conversation not picking up again. It seemed Michael’s father still had the power to come between us, even if we weren’t talking about him.
