Chapter 6
The register jams for the third time in an hour. I slap the side of it like that’s ever worked. It hasn’t, but I do it anyway because I’m back at work and my brain is mush, and maybe all the sex has actually rotted something important in there.
Vacation couldn’t last forever. Dane’s still at Leo’s, but stupid real life doesn’t wait for me to want to come back to work. The only thing helping is that I texted Willow this morning, and we’re having coffee at a local cafe right after work.
“You have to lift the drawer and push it back in,” Priya says from the next register. She doesn’t look up from the pile of returns she’s processing. “Misty from corporate was supposed to fix that last month.”
“Misty from corporate has never fixed anything in her life.”
I yank the drawer up and shove it into the track. The ancient machine groans to life like it’s doing me a personal favor. The customer on the other side of the counter gives me a patient smile, and I ring up her candles and bath set with an apologetic shrug.
Same store, same register, same piped-in music. But I’m not the same person who clocked out weeks ago.
“You look rested,” Priya says once the customer leaves. She leans against the counter and narrows her eyes at me. “Like, annoyingly rested. Did you go somewhere for Christmas?”
“Nope, just stayed home.”
Home. The word rolls off my tongue so easily now. Leo’s house that is starting to feel more and more like the only home I want.
“I had a quiet one,” I add and hope I’m not blushing to my roots. Damn fair skin tattles on me way too often.
“Quiet…” Priya’s eyes narrow further. “You’re glowing. Nobody glows from a quiet Christmas unless there’s a man involved.”
I act busy, straightening the impulse-buy display near the register. “I don’t glow.”
“Liar. You’re practically radioactive.”
I laugh and escape to the stockroom before she can interrogate me further. The stockroom is freezing and smells like cardboard and industrial cleaner.
I press my palms against my warm cheeks. Shit, she’s right. I probably am glowing. I’m just so damn happy, it’s embarrassing.
I pull my phone from my pocket and see I have two texts.
Leo: Hope work isn’t too painful. Dinner will be waiting when you get home. And dessert. The dessert isn’t food.
Well, that’s just mean. Now that’s all I’m going to be thinking about. The second one makes me laugh.
Dane: Leo is attempting to make haggis. I haven’t called the authorities yet but I’m monitoring the situation.
I type back to them, Leo first.
Alice: Can’t wait. For both.
Then to Dane.
Alice: This sounds dire. Keep a food delivery option on your phone for when we’re throwing up and refusing to eat it.
I slide the phone back into my pocket and stand there for a second in the cold stockroom with my heart hammering like an idiot.
I have two men making me food, making me laugh, and offering “dessert” that hopefully comes with a side of orgasms.
My life doesn’t make sense anymore, and I don’t want it to. This is living the dream.
I grab a box of restock and head back to the floor.
The rest of the shift passes in a blur. The store is having a big after-Christmas sale. I smile, scan, bag, and repeat on autopilot. My body’s here, but my head is at home, where Dane’s leaving in a few days, and we haven’t talked about what happens next.
Willow’s already at our usual booth with two lattes in front of her when I get to the cafe. Her phone is face down, and she straightens when she sees me. She’s in Full Attention Mode.
Oh god, she knows I’m about to drop a bomb.
“You’re late.” She stands to hug me, and I notice she’s wearing a new vanilla perfume. It’s pretty, but it reminds me it’s been a couple of weeks since we’ve hung out, and even longer since we’ve really talked.
Despite the time apart, everything about her is so wonderfully Willow as she makes small talk. The tightness in my chest that’s been worrying me since I messaged her this morning loosens for the first time all day.
“The damn register jammed at work. Twice.” I complain as I take a sip of my drink. It’s the perfect temperature, and I hum my pleasure. “So how was your Christmas?” I ask her before she can grill me about mine.
I went shopping with her twice before Christmas, and we texted a few times, but I haven’t told her much about Leo. All she knows is that I have a sugar daddy. She definitely doesn’t know anything about Dane. I’m really not even sure how to tell her I’m fucking two men.
Willow blushes, and it makes me really look at her. If anyone is glowing, it’s her. She shrugs, and I can tell she’s trying to act casual. “Good. Um, Mike took me to another Freeuse Party… “
Interesting. “Was it as good as the first one?”
She giggles and sets her mug down.
Oh yeah, she’s got a story to tell, and I give her a stern look. “Okay, bitch. Spill it.”
That breaks open the dam, and her words are rushed. “Oh my god, it was insane. I was wearing this slutty red velvet dress that barely covered my ass.”
She pauses and glances around like she just realized we’re in a public place. She lowers her voice. “Mike fucked me in front of a guy. It was crazy and hot. Then, when we went upstairs, he shared my mouth with like three guys while he fucked me.”
My eyes widen the longer she talks. Suddenly, my two men don’t seem so crazy.
She sighs happily. “It was the best holiday ever. Oh, and I might have a boyfriend now.” She giggles again. “Okay, now your turn. You’ve been weird over text for weeks. And now you’re sitting here looking like someone who won the lottery and also got really, really good sex.”
I open my mouth.
She holds up a hand. “Don’t you dare say ‘it was quiet.’”
That makes me laugh. She knows me too well.
“Okay.” I blow out a breath. “It’s more than a sugar daddy situation. It’s... a lot more.”
Her expression shifts from teasing to attentive in half a second. “I knew it. I knew there was more going on. Tell me.”
“He’s older. Like, a lot older. And he’s...” I search for the right word. Dominant? My owner? The man who edges me until I cry and then holds me like I’m precious? “He takes care of me in ways I didn’t know I needed.”
The smile on Willow’s face is non-judgmental. “Are you safe?”
“Very.” That’s the truest thing I’ve said in weeks. “He’s good to me, Willow. Really good.”
“And you’re happy? Like, actually happy, not just good-sex happy?”
I think of Leo singing sea shanties while he cooks. Dane’s quiet presence at breakfast. The art studio I cried in on Christmas morning. The way they both hold me like I matter after fucking me silly.
“I didn’t know I could be this happy,” I say, and my voice cracks a little. “It’s the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”
Willow’s expression softens. She reaches across the table and grabs my hand. “Then why do you look like you’re about to cry?”
“Because I’ve been keeping it from you, and I hate it.” My throat goes tight. “There’s stuff I’m not ready to tell you yet. Not because I don’t trust you, but because I’m still figuring out what it all means. And I know that’s not fair.”
She squeezes my hand. “Alice. You don’t owe me every detail of your life.”
“But you told me everything about Oliver. Every ugly detail. And I can’t even—“
“Hey.” She cuts me off. “That was different. I was a mess, and I needed you. You’re not a mess. You’re glowing like a goddamn lightbulb.” She grins. “When you’re ready, you’ll tell me. I’m not going anywhere.”
Fuck. My throat goes tight. I squeeze her hand. “Deal.”
She holds on for one more beat before letting go and picking up her coffee. She gives me a wide grin, and the mood shifts like she’s flipping a switch.
“Okay. The emotional portion of our program is over. I need at least one physical detail.”
Oh no.
“Does his accent get thicker when he’s—“
“How did you—“ I stop. “Yes.”
“Oh my god.”
“You have no idea.”
We dissolve into giggles, and I’m reminded again why she’s been my best friend since childhood.
Someday, I’ll tell her everything. About Leo.
About Dane. About the life I’m building that I never thought I’d have.
But right now, this is enough. Sitting with my best friend in this sticky vinyl booth and just being honest about being happy.
My phone buzzes in my pocket, and I pull it out under the table.
Leo: Haggis was a disaster. We’re ordering Thai. Dane says to tell you he tried to warn me. Come home soon or Dane might eat it all. He’s making no promises to leave you any.
I read it twice. That word. Home.
I slide the phone away and smile at Willow.
She gives me a cute grin. “Are you texting him right now? You’re totally texting him.”
“I am not.” I nudge her foot under the table. “Tell me more about Mike. Is he really your boyfriend now, or are you just saying that?”
She launches into it, and I sit back and listen, grateful. Grateful for her, for this, for the fact that she’s not pushing. She’ll wait.
And when I’m ready, I’ll tell her everything.