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"Well, I know one event you'll be planning is my recovery party," Charlotte says. "I've decided once I've had my surgery and after recovery, I want to have like a..."
"I'm back bitches party," I provide.
"Exactly," she agrees.
"I will make it the best part ever," Lexa promises.
I get a little choked up from talking of a future that didn't seem so certain just a week ago. And now it all seems so much more real, so much more attainable.
I spend the day in the hospital with Charlotte and Lexa, talking about celebrity gossip, watching a movie on Lexa's laptop that has all of us crying, then leaving when the nurses change shifts and Lexa heads to work, where Charlotte thinks I have to go too. Then I'm home, alone in a silent apartment, left with nothing but my thoughts.
And for the entire week, those thoughts revolve around the one man they really shouldn't. Turns out, with no job and no school to go to, my days are now spent visiting Charlotte and talking on the phone with Lexa between her classes, and my nights are spent reliving my paid for Saturday nights and wishing Law would text or call me. He doesn't. So here I am again, Friday night, looking up hotels as if I don't already know where I want to go, as if I'm not already picturing all the things I want him to do to me in the room in the pictures. Taking a deep breathe, I open my messages to Law. So few of them, but it somehow seems like so much has passed between us.
Me:Richards
I count how long it takes him to respond this time, just to see. My phone vibrates at seventy-three seconds.
Law:Room 1224. 8pm.
I begin to put my phone down, but it vibrates again.
Law:7pm.
Just an hour change should not make me smile this much, but... it does. That hour change gives me just enough courage to text him again.
Me:Anything I shouldn't wear this time?
I bite the corner of my bottom lip as I wait for his reply. Wait to see if he'll reply at all.
Law:Sophie, Sophie. Are you sure you want to play these games with me? I warn you now that I always win.
A shiver runs through me at his words, his challenge. Am I ready to play his game? Maybe not, but I'll play anyway.
Me:Games? I'm simply asking how you would want a whore to come dressed for you.
Law:I see. Well then, a whore should come wearing nothing at all.
My eyes widen. Bastard.
Me:Game on, then.
Law:I can't wait.
What have I gotten myself into?
Chapter 7
It's surprisingly hard to figure out what to wear when you're not supposed to wear anything. I'm just now leaving my house at six-thirty because I spent so long looking for a non-outfit, and because I was hyping myself up to wear what I'm wearing or... not wearing. The entire drive over I ask myself if I'm crazy over and over again. What other reason would there be for me to be driving to a hotel with no panties or bra on. Just a pair of black heels and a wrap dress tied at the waist.
I arrive at the hotel and pull up to let valet park my car. The valet's eyebrows raise when I get out of the car, giving me a much-needed boost to my confidence. I take the ticket he extends, only marginally paying attention to the way he watches me as he walks around my car to the driver's seat. I chuckle, but those aren't the eyes I want on me.
I walk into the hotel, through the lobby, and into the elevator. It feels like a bit of deja vu as I ride up, but this time I'm much more excited than nervous. Especially with what I'm about to do. I look at the camera in the corner of the elevator, swallowing, wondering if someone is sitting in a room somewhere, watching the monitors. I don't exactly know if I want there to be or not.
The elevator reaches the twelfth floor, and I step off, unzipping my large handbag as I follow the signs to get to the correct room. I reach the door and take a deep breath before knocking. Then, before I can talk myself out of it or second guess, I reach for the bow at my waist and hurry to untie it. The dress falls open, and convincing myself there's no one watching, and that if there is, that they're damn lucky to be getting a good show, I pull the sleeve down my one arm, then the other, and just as I hear thedoorknob begin to turn, I stuff the dress into my handbag and toss it to the floor a few feet away.
He opens the door, and his mouth opens, but whatever he was about to say never comes as his eyes, wide and full of shock, look up and down my very naked body. I only take in his own almost naked body except for boxer briefs for a few seconds before I tilt my head at him, smirking at his reaction. At him still staring at me in silence.
"I'd say this is one point for me," I tease.
