“And Lex?” he asks, reluctantly.
Letting out a sigh, I lean back into my chair. These two people are my best friends, and yet I always held this part of me close to my heart, tightly closed up in a sealed box. Is now the time to spill my heart and soul and reveal all the scars?
“Lex is… it’s complicated.”
“It can’t be that complicated, Charlie. I mean, you’re fucking him all over Manhattan,” Nikki points out.
“I am not fucking him all over Manhattan!”
“Woman has a point, Charlie. You’ve had a certain glow all week. You know… that I’ve-been-done-in-every-orifice look.”
Nikki and Eric both laugh. My face turns crimson. Is it that obvious?
“We’ll take your silence as a yes. Nikki, you notice how she’s been walking funny as well, almost with a limp?” Eric jokes.
I throw a pen at Eric.
So, at least they know that part. The rest will remain my secret, for now.
***
“Hey, Charlie.” Eric peeks his head through my door. “There’s someone here to see you.”
Who now, I wonder? As I stand up, flattening the crease in my skirt, Julian walks into the room. Oh, fuck. I haven’t seen him since movie-night, and in that time, I have screwed Lex more times than I care to admit.
“Hey, gorgeous. I was starting to think you had disappeared.”
Julian strolls over to me, grabbing my waist and pulling my body against his. Tilting his head, he plants a kiss on my lips, an uneasy feeling consuming me as I force a smile.
“Sorry, Julian. Work has literally kicked my butt all week.”
“I see. I know there’s something I’d like to do to that butt,” he teases, placing his hands on my ass, caressing it slowly.
I pull his hands off. “Mr. Baker, this is a professional environment. Plus, Eric is known for barging in.”
The guilt deepens at the mention of a lie.
“Fine, but later, you’re mine.?
? He winks, cupping my chin before kissing my nose. “I brought something for you.”
He places a white shirt box with a red bow in front of me. I look up at him, curious as to what’s inside. He motions for me to open it, and I do, stunned by what’s there.
“We haven’t spoken about the actual wedding plans,” he mentions, eyes watching for my reaction.
I force another smile, afraid that with one look, he’ll know what I’ve done. Pulling the bridal magazines out of the box, I pretend to be interested while flicking through them. Yet my stomach becomes queasy, the reality hitting me hard as I watch my hands shake slightly as I hold the magazines.
“So much to organize…” I trail off, the enormity of the situation overwhelming.
“We can always hire a wedding coordinator. However, that would be a disappointment to my mother.”
“Your mother?” I ask nervously.
“Yes, she’s dying to meet you. She’ll be traveling through New York in three weeks on her way to some sort of book convention.”
“As in, erotic romances?”
I’m trying my best to push away how awkward this conversation has become. I’ve never met his mother, so this is a big deal in a relationship.