All this to say that he read the room the wrong way. He came in, saw me, smiled, and took his T-shirt off. Two days and I have already written him without a T-shirt twice. This is starting to look like one of those TV shows with a hunky protagonist where they always look for an excuse to have him shirtless in every single episode. Not that there’s anything wrong with that.
“Back even before you noticed I was gone,” he said, kneeling in front of me and kissing my neck in a way that made the next part so much harder. “Ready to enjoy that bath?”
“I think we should leave sex for later,” I said.
He stopped kissing me right away and sat on the floor in front of me, but he was obviously confused. “Are you feeling okay?”
I was having way too many adrenaline-fueled experiences, but my feelings hadn’t changed one bit from the previous day. All I wanted was a comforting shower, a fabulous fuck, and a restorative siesta. Really. I am this simple.
I guess by now you’ve realized I feel confident in my semi-permanent state of horniness. David for sure was aware of it, hence his confusion. But I needed to talk to him first.
“Sadly, I’m feeling okay. I don’t mean that I feel sad, because I feel fine. I mean that it’s sad to feel fine and still have to say no to sex—for now.”
“For now.” He took it as the promise it was. “Something happened?”
“Not even sure where to start,” I admitted. “Why don’t you tell me where you’ve been.”
“Downstairs with the security guy going over the CCTV footage from the night Henry died. There’s probably some stuff there, but that’s not important right now,” David said. “We can leave that for later. What’s wrong? Obviously something happened.”
“Okay, I’m gonna do it chronologically because it’s how it happened and—regardless of what I do sometimes when I try to be a fancy screenwriter—chronological order is the best way to tell a story.”
“Agreed.”
“There’s a new article. Gloria Fucking Kingsley says there’s new evidence against you because Henry was intoxicated on Fernet when he died, and it had to be you getting him drunk because who else drinks Fernet?”
David looked taken aback. “Lots of people.”
“I literally know no one else, but not the point. She’s insinuating your reporting on Dashing was fake and you invented witnesses or something.”
I saw David’s face going up in flames and, in hindsight, I should have been a bit more delicate. But then again, I was a woman on the brink of a nervous breakdown.
“Don’t worry, I’ve got you,” I told him, and I wanted him to know that I meant it. “I’ve already talked to my lawyer and told him I’ll talk to the cops and tell them you didn’t invent anything about Henry because...” My voice broke, and David’s expression shifted to one of concern. He came up on his knees again and got closer to me. “Because he also tried it with me.”
There were a few seconds when he processed everything. And then he demanded to know more, so I told him about the night on the set ofLA Misconducts, Henry touching me and threatening to ruin my career, and my dad coming to the rescue of the damsel in distress and fixing everything.
“Are you okay?” he asked.
I nodded. “I am now.”
My throat was in a knot, and I started crying then. He hugged me, and it was warm and comforting and sweet, and his naked skin smelled so good that I wanted to remain there forever.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked then, and I knew that was going to be the hard part.
“Dad made me promise not to,” I said, still inhaling David’s smell. I didn’t want to let go of his body, of that hug, but I knew I had to. I owed him an explanation, an apology. I just hoped he’d let me hug him like that again.
“Why didn’t you tell me anyway?” he asked. “Oh god! You thought I was going to use you and write about it even if you didn’t consent. Elena, I would never!”
“I know.” I wanted to start crying again but didn’t allow myself to.
“Then why didn’t you tell me?” He was angry, and I can’t blame him.
“Because I’m a fucking idiot, and I was hoping you would realize something had happened to me!” There, I said it and I was angry too.
David exhaled sharply, his face etched with pain.
“How was I supposed to realize? You didn’t tell me anything!”
“I don’t know! But you could have!”
