~ Paige ~
I didn’t kiss him. I wanted to, but I’m a coward, and now that’s all I’m obsessing about. What would’ve happened if I’d pressed in, sipped at him the way he was nibbling at me? Would he taste like his scent, a mosaic of urban man and untamed wild? He was surprisingly gentle, and I marvel if that would continue, or would he unleash the erratic impulses beating beneath the disciplined surface?
Rolling to my side, I stare at the wall that I can almost graze with my fingertips if I reach out, the bedroom is so minuscule. The glowing digits in the shadows mock me with each second. Two twenty-three.
I wonder, achingly, if there would be another chance, if he would even ask again. Funny, I didn’t think of him as the type to ask. Was it because I reminded him, brusquely, that he was paying me to be there?
Not for this. Never for this.
Would I be bold enough to take him at face value?
He made me feel things I long gave up on, things I didn’t think were for me. I dated before, sure, even enjoyed sex a few times. Not once had my whole being been absorbed, every inch of sensitized skin aware, each lungful intoxicated by him.
When did it get so hot in here?
The apartment is chilled, but I can’t seem to cool off. Kicking off the covers, I flip over to my back to stare at the gloomy ceiling instead.
Nope, no answers there either.
When my phone dings with an alert, for a second I’m thinking insomnia is wreaking havoc on my sanity. Even that reminds me of Colin.
I’m sane once more.
His impatient, off-the-cuff defense from earlier has me smiling like an idiot in the middle of the night. Reaching over, I grab my phone from the chipped wooden table next to the bed and swipe at the screen.
It’s Colin.
Tell me I’m not the only one who can’t stop thinking about it.
Pleasure, excitement instantly take over any desperate will to sleep.
I can’t stop thinking about it either, I reply back. Mr. Morrison’s demands were outrageous!
The little dots immediately appear.
That wasn’t what I was talking about and you know it.
Why are you up? I ask in lieu of responding to his question.
Which up are you referring to?
Oh my God. Bad, Colin.
The screen suddenly brightens with an incoming call. I debate all of a second before answering. “If you’re calling hoping for phone sex, you got the wrong number, buddy.”
“Buddy?” His husky voice is oozing with the woke-up-in-the-middle-of-the-night sexiness. “You won’t kiss me, and now I’m your buddy? This is deteriorating by the hour.”
I’m fighting not to be charmed by his gruffness. “Shouldn’t you be sleeping?”
“Why would I do that if I can have you whispering in my ear at three in the morning?”
Losing that fight and fast. “You woke me up,” I accuse. A flat-out lie.
He chuckles, the soft, intimate sound sending sweet quivers racing over me. “No, I didn’t.”
“Are you usually this arrogant when you’re sleep-deprived?”
“I’m not usually sleep-deprived,” he replies. “Now ask me what I’m wearing.”
“Why would I do that?’
“So I can ask you the same question.”
“I don’t care wha—”
“Nothing. I’m not wearing anything. What are you wearing?”
I refuse, absolutely refuse to allow that image to sizzle my mind. I won’t give him the satisfaction.
“Parachute pants, combat boots, and a parka.”
He doesn’t miss a beat. “And your panties?”
“Hand-me-down from grandma.”
The long male sigh blows through the connection. “You’re not taking this seriously.”
“I’m not having phone sex with you, Colin. I’m sure there are plenty of other numbers on your contact list you can call for that.”
“And yet, this was the number I dialed.” A notable pause, then. “I wasn’t up thinking about other women, Paige. At…” there’s shifting before he continues, “three eighteen in the morning, I’d rather be dreaming. Well, I’d rather be having actual sex with you than phone sex, but barring that, sleep would be preferred right now.”
“Is that why you picked me for your little project? Out of all the women in New York, you singled me out.” I don’t know why I’m bringing this up, pretty sure I don’t really want to hear what he has to say about that, but I am genuinely curious. “It’s lust. Add a dollar sign in front of it, and it’s no strings attached. A business transaction.”
“I don’t know who you’re insulting more, me or you. Yes, I noticed you at Café Love, wouldn’t deny wanting you the second my eyes were drawn to you, but give me, not to mention yourself, some credit. The money, the project, as you called it, has nothing to do with my wanting you. You’re a beautiful woman, Paige, and I’m far from dead or blind.”
Maybe I should have my head examined, but strangely enough, I believe him. A man like Colin, wealthy, successful, attractive, doesn’t need to buy a night’s companionship. “I didn’t mean to upset you.”
“I’m not upset. I’m just pointing out the facts. If you and me…” He stops as though searching for the right words. “When you and I happen, it will not in any way interfere with our arrangement. At least, not on my end. That, I will guarantee.”
~~~~~
“Earth to Paige. Earth to Paige. Anyone in there?”
Rome’s vivacious voice rudely yanks me out of my daydreaming. I blink at his amused gaze. How long has he been talking to me?
After Colin and I ended our impromptu call, I was way too hyped up to rest. Sleep finally snagged me a couple of hours later, but what felt like ten minutes after that, Rome was beating at the bedroom door, asking what I wanted for breakfast. Now I’m learning I have the hidden talent to sleep with my lids up.
Playing at nonchalance, I lift my favorite mug and give him a bland look. “What was that?”
He’s not fooled. “There you are. For a minute there, I thought you weren’t coming back from wherever you were.” His scrutinizing gaze bounces over my features, likely cataloging the blatant fatigue. “You don’t look too hot. When was the last time you saw Dr. Wen?”
Between Colin’s observation yesterday and now Rome’s, my ego is taking a beatdown. “I have an appointment tomorrow.”
The concern only increases at that. “You’d tell me if there’s something wrong, wouldn’t you?”
“I’m fine. Just didn’t get enough sleep last night. It was kind of stuffy in the room.”
“You got stuffy? You of all people? It was like forty-five degrees last night.”
Visions of Colin have a way of heating me up. “Too many blankets,” I grumble.
Thoughtful, he chews while he studies me. “What’s with that swanky car that dropped you off the other night?”
“Swanky car?” Feigning ignorance, I take in a mouthful of coffee gone cold. Guess my mind was wandering for longer than I thought. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
A dubious hum escapes. “The big black one that came with a spiffy driver. The one that dropped you off right in front of Down the Street.”
Right. The small local grocery store where Rome works part-time is not down the street from us but down the stairs at the ground level of our apartment building. It’s definitely convenient, but Rudy pulling up with those shiny wheels in this neighborhood would no doubt draw attention.
I’m not sure how much to share with my brother. On the one hand, it would be a challenge to try to hide what’s going on with Colin, not if I’m going to be chauffeured back and forth. On the other, I wouldn’t want to risk giving Rome the wrong impression.
To buy time, I pay extra attention to smearing half a wheat bagel with almond butter. We get to indulge in our pastries of choice once a week on Sunday, and while I went with a safer bet, Rome is eagerly chomping on a caramel apple tart and guzzling orange juice. It amazes me how much sugar a teen can take.
Indulging in a healthy bite, I chew while Rome considers me, eagerly polishing off his own breakfast. It’s a good bagel, so I make sure I munch on it thoroughly to savor the taste. The tiny bistro-style table doesn’t leave a lot of room for anything to distract him with.
“So wassup?” Rome finally pushes.
I swallow and shrug. “You know how I left Love’s to help out this guy, right? At his house?” I’d given my brother the same spiel as the one to Bob and Cara. His lips tighten, reminding me he wasn’t in complete agreement with my decision, even if it did buy him the dance lessons. “That’s his driver and car. It’s not a big deal. He’s just that way.”
His eyes narrow. “What are you doing for this guy that comes with a personal ride?”
“Nothing that has a season pass in the gutter, if that’s what you’re thinking,” I say sardonically. “Just… stuff around the house.”
“What kind of stuff?”
“Domestic stuff.”
Dark brows furrow. “You’re like a maid or something?”
My first instinct is to lie and say yes, but a maid wouldn’t get the luxury pickup and drop-off. “Not exactly.” The exhale flutters out of me. “More like a personal representative.” That sounds better than a paid chum for him to cast and mold. “Doing odd things here and there.” Really odd. “Nothing crazy or illicit, I promise.”
“Like what?” he persists.
The man-of-the-house hormones are flying all over the place. “Well.” I frantically search my mind for the most innocuous activity, but that’s barely functioning on a couple of hours of sleep. “The other morning after a workout, I taste tested this protein shake made by his personal trainer. Turned out to be pretty good.”
The expression I receive is one of pure, unquestionable suspicion. “You’re telling me he pays you to drink protein shakes?”
Was that ludicrous? “Another time I spent the day with his stylists, trying out the latest trends for his approval.”
He jerks his chin at my hair. “Is that why you got that do? And got your nails all fancied up?”
Okay, that does sound farfetched. “He’s rich and eccentric.” I jog a shoulder, struggling back a yawn by popping the last of the bagel in my mouth. “No skin off my back if that’s what he wants to spend his money on,” I say. “He’s got plenty of it.”
“What’s his name?”
“Colin. Kutter,” I reveal reluctantly at his look.
“How did you meet him?”
Jeez, if he changes his mind about acting, he can work for the FBI. At least that was an easy one. “At Love’s. He was a customer. Look.” The last word was a sigh. “There’s no need to worry. The guy isn’t even home most of the time that I’m there. He’s also got plenty of household staff, so we’re never alone.”
“That doesn’t mean he’s not taking advantage of you.”
“He’s not taking advantage of me,” I reassure him. “He’s actually nice to me. Respectful.” Colin didn’t get upset, didn’t force the matter when I refused to kiss him. That has to mean something. Too bad I can’t add that to the no-worries column for Rome. “This isn’t long-term. Trust me, the minute something is off, I’ll scram.”
Rome doesn’t look entirely convinced. “You call me if something isn’t right, you hear me?” He gets up, quietly wrapping an arm around my shoulders from behind. “I don’t care if I’m in class or working. You call me.”
Being almost eighteen, my little teenage brother rarely touches me anymore, too embarrassed, as if that’s something only little kids do. The unexpected show of affection nearly melts me.