34. Sara
34
SARA
W hen I got back to my apartment, Amber was sprawled on my sofa, watching Never Been Kissed, while stuffing leftover chips in her mouth. She was giggling like a lunatic at the scene where David Arquette gorges his way through an industrial sized bucket of coleslaw, when she spotted my cavewoman hair and post orgasm face. She’d gasped, leaned back, and offered me a squealing high five.
Now, I’m slipping out of my shoes and crossing the open plan area to fetch a glass of water, because apparently extreme dehydration is a side effect of having sex for the first time in over a year. I’d joked about my vagina needing an ice pack, but honestly, I might actually need one. Jack was huge, and although the sex was amazing beyond expectation, he’d stretched me so far, I wasn’t sure he was going to fit all the way.
Until it started to feel good. Really good. My body started relaxing, in the way that it only does when I’m around him, and I realized the possibilities are infinite when someone looks at you the way Jack does. His words, his touch, his eyes. Everything about him wraps me up so tightly in safety, there’s no room left for doubt. He makes me feel like I can do things I once thought were impossible. He makes me feel like I’m good a flirting, like I’m good at fucking, like I can make as much noise as I want and it’s never loud enough. He doesn’t silence me.
“Does he have any friends?” Amber waggles her eyebrows as she witnesses me gulp down my second glass of water. “I would also like my body’s hydration supply to be boinked out of me.”
I shrug. “Probably. Want me to see if he knows any investment bankers?”
“Oh, yes please,” she purrs. “Set me up, we can crash your next date.”
I smile. “We’re not doing the whole dating thing…yet.” I sigh. “I told you, we’re taking it slow.”
An obnoxious blast of laughter bursts from her throat. “Say that again when you’re not wearing his jacket and you don’t have his love juice on your thighs.”
“Ew!” I laugh before contemplating telling her about the ball. “We’re…having our first sort of date in a couple weeks. If that’s not taking it slow, I don’t know what is.”
She stuffs more chips in her mouth. “Explain a sort of date.”
“To a ball…” I fidget with the buttons on the jacket. “To the Hemmingvale ball.”
Amber chokes. She smacks her chest with her palm, her eyes watering as she recovers. “Are you serious?” I nod. “Sara…you realize this means he’s into you? Really, really into you.”
I can’t explain why warmth heats my face when she tells me that. “It’s just an invitation. Besides, it’s more of a colleague thing. ”
Amber kneels on the cushions, her elbows digging into the back of the sofa as she leans over the edge to eye me intensely, her big boobs squishing together. “Nope. Hemmingvale is… Jeese, I don’t even know how to describe it. It’s more than just a ball. It’s a gathering of industry royalty. You’re going to see people so filthy rich, you won’t even know who they are because they never set foot amongst the peasants.” I laugh at that. “Seriously. He’s inviting you into his world. He’s showing you off.”
I frown. “You make it sound like I’m a trophy.”
Amber shakes her head. “If you were a trophy, he’d parade you around his fancy bars. This is different.”
I fill my third glass of water. “You think I shouldn’t go?”
She squeals. “Hell no. You have to go.” She lowers her voice. “I guess what I mean is, figure out if your heads where his heads at.” She sighs. “I just don’t want to see you hurt after…” She trails off, shaking her head. “Hey, I’m just starting to get my best friend back, I want to keep her for a while, okay? Without another man messing with her head.”
I skip over to where she leans over the sofa and plant a mushy kiss on top of her head. “I know. I promise I’m being careful.” I travel to the hall, grabbing a towel from the linen closet. “And listen, I know I’ve been a bad friend for…a while. I hate that I stopped hanging out and basically missed out on any fun. I promise to make up for it.”
She laughs. “Okay, you weren’t a bad friend, don’t be hard on yourself.”
I shrug, then sling the towel over my shoulder. “I’ll come hang out in a bit. We can watch the rest of that movie?”
Amber climbs from the sofa. “Can’t. I met a guy at lunch, and now I have a booty call in twenty minutes.”
“Banker?” I sigh.
“Real estate prick.” She winks as she grabs her coat .
“How do you know he’s a prick already?” I grab another towel from the closet.
“Oh, just because I met him five minutes after I witnessed his girlfriend dump him for sexting other women,” Amber says casually while slipping her feet into six-inch court heels even I couldn’t walk in.
“You’re damaged, you know that?” I shake my head.
“He’s a booty call, not a boyfriend.” She chides. “So, unless you’re setting me up with one of Jack’s friends tonight, my hands are tied.”
I frown while holding back my usual speech where I tell her to stop hooking up with idiots she doesn’t know and try to meet a nice guy for a change. “Maybe another night. Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go shower Jack’s love juice from my thighs.”
Thirty minutes later, I’m showered and my is hair knotted in a towel piled on top of my head. I tug a pale pink, silk robe over my freshly moisturized skin, and head to the sofa where I plan on spending the rest of the evening doing work for the collaboration with the Vandenberg Group.
But before I can sink into the cushions, there’s a knock at the door.
“Glad you came to your senses,” I say as I open the door.
“What?” Jack stares down at me.
“Oh!” I inhale a sharp breath, because I must look ridiculous compared to how he saw me earlier. “I thought you were Amber. There’s a whole booty call situation…” I gasp. “With her! Not me. Never mind. What are you doing here?” And in gray sweatpants, with fluffy hair.
“Can I come in? We need to talk?”