“I’d love to see it too! You should meet us at my friend's afterparty for his premier this coming Friday.” She presses her lips into an apologetic smile. No need to apologize. He broke in.
“Friday.” He nods. “Text me the deets!” Points to me. “Lovely to see you.” Places a hand on her shoulder as he walks out.
“Goodnight!” He sing-songs and we chorus a goodnight back. The moment the door shuts, she lets out a laugh.
“What’s so funny, and why did you put your vibrator in the freezer?” This makes her laugh even more, and I grow irritated.
“What?”
“That was a face sculptor.” She steps across the kitchen to be closer to me. I crack a smile and shake my head.
“Come on, it's a little funny.” She bites her lip, still smiling up at me.
“Yeah,” I scratch the back of my head. “A little.” I know she still wants me, and fuck everything, I still want her. This has to stop, though. We made a promise. Why that even matters when I nearly had her, I don’t know.
It’s not ideal that we barely got to do anything to each other. If I had it completely my way, I’d bring her to my room and fuck her right, but I know it’s too hasty. And I hate that that makes more sense than fucking her until the morning.
“I should get to bed.” I clear my throat and brush past her.
“Bed?”
“My bed,” I call back to her like an asshole and make my way up the cold wood steps.
When I enter my room, I close the door quickly, flop back on my bed, and stare at the ceiling for hours. Not much is going through my brain, just the feeling of Stella’s hands touching every part of me. Her breathing, soft smile, plump lips, spectacular bare breasts, defined hips, and long delicate fingers twisted in my hair. Sleep overcomes me before I realize it, and I’m dreaming all night. It’s unusual for me to do that. I mean, science says we dream every night; it’s just that when most people wake up, they can’t remember it.
I think I dream of fucking Stella, but mostly I dream of her face, flashes of something in the distance like a dark cloud looms around us. For the most part, she’s a constant in my dream. Existing inside my head. It’s better I have her this way— ethically speaking. That’s why when I turn over in the morning and see Stella laying next to me, fast asleep, I nearly fall off the bed.
“The fuck are you doing?!” I growl, and she wakes up with a look of shock plastered across her face.
“What?!” She's blinking, eyes wild with confusion, as I catch my breath.
“Why are you in my bed?” She rubs her eyes and sits up, clutching her head as she looks around.
“Hello?” I ask when she hasn’t responded. She turns her head; her face is honestly too flawless to ever look bad.
“I haven’t done this in a while….” She sniffs, eyes fall to the sheets, and I sit up, take her chin in my hands.
“Done what?” My heart is racing, thinking we must have had sex, and I blacked out or something, but she just shakes her head, her cheeks growing red.
“Look at me,” I whisper, hoping she isn’t about to just pack her things and leave. Why the fuck am I this concerned?
“I sleep-walk when I drink too much.” The seriousness of her tone and the shame in her voice is not why I laugh. I think I laugh because I’m relieved that’s what happened, that we didn’t break our rules (not technically), and that she isn’t leaving.
“This is serious, Antoni.”
“I know, I know… I just—” there’s a knock at the door before I can finish.
“Come in,” Stella says for me, and I roll my eyes at her comfortability in my home. It's Banks, one of my top security guys.
“Have you looked outside yet?” I furrow my brows.
“No…” Stella slides out of bed, still in my t-shirt from last night. And for some reason, it makes my mouth form into a smile that I didn’t intend. She opens the curtain and blinds of the middle window, gasping almost immediately.
“What?!” I jump up and cross to her. Peak from behind to see that the streets are nearly flooded, and rain is pouring down at such a quick rate, I can barely see the houses on the other side of the narrow road.
For some reason, I barely noticed the sound of rain over the shock of finding Stella in my bed, but now I hear it loud and clear. Lightning cracks, hitting a lamppost right in front of us, and thunder immediately booms, shaking the house and rattling everything around us.
Instinctually, I wrap my arms around Stella’s waist and pull her away from the window. When I put her down, she pushes away from me, annoyance rippling across the crinkles in her perfectly upturned nose.