“You’re not leaving the house like that.” His voice is tight, possessive. He grips his own wrist, as though he has to physically restrain himself, shaking out the thought of me walking around New York with only a bra and panties under my coat. “Hold on.”
He vanishes into his bedroom. He returns seconds later with a shirt and pair of pants folded up in his hands.
“Thanks.” I pull them both on. They smell like him. They swallow me. “You’re a real gentleman.”
“A gentleman that comes all over your clothes,” he counters.
“Mm. My favorite kind.” I lean my entire body against his. Toe-to-toe, I’m so short next to him, the top of my head hitting his clavicle. He’s so hard—and I don’t just mean the bulge against my hip. I mean everywhere—hard chest, flat stomach. A gargoyle chiseled out of goddamn stone. I inhale him; he smells like soap and the musk of desire.
I tilt my head upwards, chin on his chest, and he tilts down to meet me. We don’t kiss—but I rock my hips against his—a slow roll—and he’s a very good boy, he doesn’t grip me or grind against me the way I know he wants to. Instead, his eyes close, his shuddery breath warms my lips, and he goes very still, letting me tease him, savoring it. Because he knows the second I leave, I’m gone, and he’ll be left with nothing but ache in my absence.
“Merry Christmas, pet,” I tell him.
I extract my body from his. He takes me down the elevator and escorts me out. The second his door clicks locked behind me, my phone buzzes. He’s texted:
Dorian:
Miss you already, boss.
I smile. Merry Christmas to me, indeed.
2
GIRLS ONLY ON THE FIRE ESCAPE
Dove.Now.
“Okay,” Ophelia gestures with a bottle of rose, waving it over the fire escape, “million-dollar idea. A hamster wheel, but for humans.”
“A treadmill,” I say. “I think you’re thinking about a treadmill.”
She sighs. “But where’s thefunin that?”
We sit across from each other on the fire escape, legs tangled. We pass the bottle back and forth as the city honks and clatters below us.
Ophelia is my roommate, my confidant, and my best friend. When I die an untimely death, probably, in a freak garbage compactor accident, she’ll be the one to clear my search history, destroy my eReader, and write an obituary that’ll make my mother proud. She’s an absolutely stunning woman with perfect skin and wide, intelligent eyes. She has Greek somewhere in her background, and her genes have gifted her with tanned skin, thick hair that shrinks into tight little ringlets with the smallest hint of humidity, and a booming laugh that can be heard boroughs away. Ophelia is an actress—currently only booking commercials and the odd off-off Broadway part, but she’s working herway to a Tony, I’m sure of it. This is all fodder for her acceptance speech. She’s constantly dressed like she’s ready for the red carpet, too. While I rock my messy, thrift-store finds, Ophelia wears clothes like she’s doing them a favor—currently wrapped up in a giant, faux-fur coat that makes her look like the bear at the end ofMidsommar.
It’s insanely cold out here, a biting forty degrees in a blanket of night, but our fire escape hangouts aresacred, so we brave the winter. There’s a dusting of snow on the grated stairway and it’s wet against my ass, but I ignore it.
Ophelia refills both our glasses. We should’ve stopped a bottle ago, but now we’re well passed hangover territory and there’s nothing to do but keep pushing forward.
“So you’re coming to my birthday party tomorrow, yeah?” Ophelia says. Her dark eyes flash at me. It’s a demand—not a request.
“Oh, shit. Is that tomorrow?”
“Oh, shit, my ass. You don’t get to flake. Not on my birthday, bitch. Besides, I need witnesses.”
“What, are you gonna kill Brody?”
“No,” she says casually, “I’m going to marry him.”
Bubbles go up my nose. I make a sound like I’m dying and gasp out, “What?”
“I think he’s going to propose.”
“That’s…” I measure my words. “Is that good news or bad news?”
She shakes her head. “I know you’re thinking he’s going to break my heart,” she says, the goddamn mind reader, “and yeah, maybe you’re right. But I’ve gotta try, don’t I?”
