When I’m not getting fucked, I write. Words pour from my fingers. The flow is slow and haltering at first, but it gets easier. A lot easier. Thursday night, I even sent my agent the first three chapters of my long-delayed second novel.
She calls me back first thing Friday morning. “Addie,” she says, getting right to the point. That’s Barbara for you. “I read your pages.”
“And?”
“Where is the rest of it?” she demands. “I need it, Addie. I need it injected directly into my veins.”
The fist of worry that clamped around my heart when I saw her number on my phone eases. “You liked it? You really liked it?”
“Darling, I loved it. Tell me you have an outline. Tell me you can finish this by the end of December because I want to shop it out the moment people get back from their Christmas break.”
It’s December ninth. I don’t have any holiday plans—I still haven’t opened the pile of invitations on the coffee table. I have only one session left with Theo and Shane this coming Saturday. Then they fly back to Europe. Theo will celebrate the holidays with his family. Shane? I’m not sure what he’ll do. The only thing I know is he won’t be here. Neither of them will.
Once they leave, the days will stretch in front of me, long and lonely.
“Addie?”
“I’ll have something ready,” I promise her.
“Excellent.” Barbara sounds like a cat that ate the canary. “And Addie, can I say one more thing? I don’t know what brought this on, but I’m so glad you’re writing again.”
13
ADDIE
Saturday is our last session. On impulse, I hunt around in my closet for the green dress that Theo saw me wear long ago at the club. It’s buried in the back. I try it on, and shockingly, it fits. It’s snugger than it used to be. No surprise there. Some people lose weight when they’re stressed, but alas, that’s not me. I drown my sorrows in cake.
Or churros.
An image flashes through my mind of Shane licking sugar off his fingers. My insides tighten and my stomach does a funny flip.
This is the last time. After tonight, I might never see them again. It shouldn’t matter,but it does.
The drive to the club takes forever. The sky is darkening in an ominous manner. It’s early in the season, but a storm appears imminent. Thank heavens for winter tires.
I’m almost there when Theo texts me.One of my clients is having a crisis,he writes. The computer system in the car reads it out to me in a flatly mechanical voice.Mind if we skip dinner tonight?
Disappointment stabs me. A flash of fear follows. I’m not supposed to have feelings about Shane and Theo. This is about sex.Nothing else.
Except it isn’t. Somewhere between al pastor at Taco Gus and churros at the club, I’ve lost my way.
I thought Theo was the one to worry about. Shane and I were using each other, and we understood that. But Theo’s a nice guy. He was the one who wanted to eat dinner together. If there was someone who was at risk of catching feelings, it was him.
But I was wrong. It was me.
So far,it’s always been Nicole, the Club M employee, who escorts me to the Romanov Room. This time, though, when I open the door of my hotel room, both Theo and Shane are there.
I step into the hallway. Theo’s blue eyes drink me in. He steps closer, so tall, so broad. I have to tilt my head up to see his face. “You wore the green dress,” he murmurs. His hands stroke my bare arms. “I thought I remembered how lovely you looked, but this is better than the memory.”
Goosebumps erupt on my skin. My voice comes out breathless. “It’s tighter than it used to be.”
“You are beautiful,” Shane says quietly. He holds his hand out to me. I take it, and he tugs me closer, turning me so my back is pressed against his chest. His lips nuzzle the nape of my neck. “You smell like a warm summer day.”
“Is that good?” I whisper. I’m asking Shane that question, but I’m staring into Theo’s eyes. It feels like a spell is being woven between the three of us, binding us together.
For a moment, neither of them reply. Theo glances at Shane, a question in his eyes. Then he nods slightly and smiles, a little too wide. The spell snaps, ricocheting off my heart. “Yes, it's good. If you’re ready, Addie, shall we head downstairs?”
What just happened there?