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Noticing the curve of the hips of every brunette I passed on the sidewalk became second nature to me. If I saw one that I suspected might be the woman from the club, I’d approach in a subtle effort to look at her eyes to see if they were the unique shade of blue and gray that had bore me into me that night.
It was shortly after Berk met his wife, Astrid, that I first saw Eloise again.
She was sitting in a bar watching her cousin perform a few songs. I was on the other side of the room but I felt a pull that I still can’t explain to this day. My body knew it was my lamb before I got the confirmation when she turned to her side and I caught a glimpse of her profile. The shape of her lips, and the graceful curve of her neck made me ache inside. I stared at her, unable to move until Berk patted me on the shoulder and made his presence known.
I could tell within seconds that he knew her. He caught me staring at her and asked if I wanted to be introduced. I refused with the excuse of needing to get home,
but when I saw her at their wedding in a strapless blue dress, my cock hardened and my pulse raced.
That’s when I heard her real name for the first time. Astrid had called out to her and Eloise had responded with a smile that froze time for a second or two.
I cursed under my breath when I realized she was the younger cousin of Berk’s wife.
I’d branded her off-limits then since she was too close to my inner circle. A circle that I work hard to separate from what I do at Club Skyn behind a mask.
I left shortly after the ceremony, telling Berk that I was needed at the hospital.
I wasn’t.
I needed a strong drink, so I indulged in a few before I fell face first into my bed. I jacked off the following morning in the shower thinking about her and then made a vow to forget her.
I broke that less than a minute later, and have almost every moment since.
I shake all of that off, hopeful that my Sunday dinner plans will give me a temporary reprieve from thinking about Eloise.
I knock on the door to Berk and Astrid’s brownstone on the Upper West Side. I’m here because their daughter, Stevie, offered me an invite an hour ago via the phone she was given a just over a month ago for emergency use only.
Apparently, my presence at this dinner qualifies as life saving.
The door swings open. Stevie is on the other side of it, her phone in her hand. “You took forever to get here.”
I took the subway so I can see how it might feel that way. It did to me.
“What’s up, buttercup?”
She smiles as she always does when I call her that. It started a few months ago when I brought her a bouquet of buttercups. She was having a bad day as most nine-year-olds do when someone breaks their heart.
I offer her a bouquet of them now since I stopped at a bodega that had an ample display of flowers waiting to be bought.
“These are for me?” She gazes up at me with her big blue eyes.
We share that trait, as does her dad, and our late grandfather.
“Just for you.” I brush past her to enter the foyer. “Where are your mom and dad?”
“Kissing in the kitchen.” She laughs. “I’ll put these in water.”
“I’ll help,” I say because Stevie seems to think I have a hidden talent for flower arranging. I don’t.
My phone chimes in the pocket of my suit jacket. I put it on over a gray T-shirt before I left home. Paired with jeans, it’s good enough to pass for semi-professional if I’m called in to the hospital tonight.
“That’s probably doctor stuff.” She points a finger at me. “You better check that out. Someone might have a hurt heart.”
I brush a hand over her head. “They might. I’ll give it a quick look, and join you in a minute.”
She pads toward the kitchen on bare feet. “I’ll tell Mom and Dad you’re here!”
I retrieve my phone and read the text message that just came in. It’s from the answering service at my office, but the patient who called in isn’t in dire need of help. I’ll call them shortly to check in and schedule them in for an appointment this coming week. I could leave it for my office staff tomorrow, but a patient who is fretting for hours isn’t ideal.
