7. Chapter 7
“So what list were you talking about earlier?” I whispered, trying not to wake the sleeping child clutching his raggedy old teddy bear.
Her words were intriguing, but it was the way in which she said them that lingered. It was said in her usual quiet way, but the emotion behind it screamed something deeper. That, and the look of sadness that crossed her face.
It wasn’t often she let the vulnerable side of her personality show. I’d learned how to pick up on it more and more over the last few months. Like the others, I carried a sense of responsibility for her. I reminded myself of that daily. Especially lately.
I will not think about the night we kissed.
I repeated the mantra over and over until she spoke, pulling my attention.
“I…Marcel…my sessions with him…Lately he’s been asking me what I want out of life. It’s made me think is all.”
“Talk to me,” I said, rolling onto my side. We were lying on my bed, Declan in the middle of us.
“I didn’t have typical experiences after…
everything.” Her eyes met mine, and I nodded, choosing to stay quiet.
“I guess that makes me boring by most standards. All I ever did before was paint and hide away. I’m getting better now that I have the studio.
Despite it, though, I still feel as awkward as ever.
Some days it feels like that is true and then others—not so much. ”
I dragged a deep breath in, not knowing where to start. The last thing I wanted to do was make it worse. I was choosing words carefully, almost rehearsing them as I did moves before a dance competition, when she blurted out.
“Marcel wants me to make a bucket list.”
“Are you dying?” I chuckled when she rolled her eyes.
“No, not that I’m aware of. And I told him the same thing. He said people make them all the time, not just when they’re dying. Is it weird that I think of the movie though whenever I hear the words?”
I studied the girl across from me. A look of weariness crossed her features—it was the same one she got right before she’d retreat into her shell and hide away. That wasn’t going to happen on my watch. A plan formed in my head. If nothing else, it would keep her in the game.
“You could make it a fuck-it list.”
Her cheeks flamed and fire shot out of her eyes.
“Why does every conversation we have end up sexual?”
I fought back laughter. “This isn’t a sexual conversation by any means. Nor are half of the ones we have. I think you just happen to hear the word fuck and your mind goes there.”
Dirty girl.
“Maybe you should consider a membership to the club.”
She made a small fist and threw it. It was awkward because of her position and landed somewhat pathetically.
“You’re so mean, princess. I only meant since your life is so boring, maybe you should adopt a fuck it mentality. Let go and I don’t know, do something crazy.”
“Crazy, like what? Get drunk and forget my own name?”
“No, getting shit-faced is not what it’s cracked up to be. Trust me, nothing fun about puking your guts out in some strange bathroom not knowing what or who is on the other side.”
“You speak from experience?”
“Not I, my lady. I am cultured, drinking in excess is for fools.”
“Will you stop and be serious? Marcel gave me homework—to make a list.”
Her brow furrowed. The wheels were turning in her devious little mind, and I inwardly groaned. She was going to ask for my help. I could feel it in my core. She turned hopeful eyes my way.
“Well, in keeping with the theme of the evening, fuck-it. What do you need?”
In my stomach, the faintest hints of a warning started, but the smile that subsequently spread across her lovely face made it worth it.
“Pen and paper? My hands are a bit full right now.”
She kissed the top of Declan’s head and smirked. I moved off the bed and started looking around. Damn, when was the last time I had a piece of paper in my room? I shuffled through my bedside table. My eyes landed on a card I’d gotten from Hannah.
It’d be perfect. Not only was it an afterthought from her, but she literally signed her name inside. No message of encouragement. No words of wisdom, just her small signature scrawled at the bottom. I couldn’t even recall what the occasion was when she gave it to me.
The outside read, “Dumpster Fires Don’t Burn Forever”. Thank God for that. I dug further and found a pen. Hopefully, it worked.
“Okay, so what should I add?” She turned hopeful eyes my way.
“Depends on how adventurous you’re feeling?” I teased.
“Well, it’s a Friday night. I’ve spent it with a cute six-year-old and someone who is like a brother to me. I’d say my life warrants a little adventure.”
“You wound me, my fair lady. A brother?” I repeated. Something inside me didn’t like that answer. “Is that all I am to you, and to think I invited you to my bed for an evening? I thought we had something special. And you wonder why I joined the club,” I teased.
“You’re so dramatic, and I thought Kinsley was bad. Be serious. If I put them down, then I’m committed.”
“Did you speak to the girls? Ask their opinions?” I asked warily.
She may have come far in the last few years, but Kinsley and Victoria’s influence reigned supreme. Not that she did everything they asked, or she’d be on several dating sites. I shifted uncomfortable with the thought of her swiping right on some stranger.
“No, I need to do this. On my own. Well, without their input, Marcel says it’s important. He said I need to lean on others outside the two of them.”
“How many items are we going for?”
“I don’t know. I’ve never done one of these before.” Sarcasm laced every word, but it softened in the next part. “Marcel didn’t say specifically. Although he did say it’s important that I commit to it. If it’s on the list, then it’s meant to be. What do you think?”
“What I think doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I mean, you’ve taken on the role as my secretary, so I’ll allow you to be the judge of the number of items. I trust you.”
“Okay then, since you’re making demands and relegating me to sidekick status—”
“Sidekick? I don’t see you that way at all. I’d say it’s more like you’re a character in my story. Play your cards right and maybe you’ll be a main one.”
I groaned inwardly. Her innocent suggestion was giving me vibes I had no business feeling. I narrowed my eyes.
“We’ll add bossy pants to your title. So I’m a character in your story with potential.
You’re ruthless, you know. I’m working tirelessly here and you’ve no qualms using me along the way.
Now that you’ve spoken your true feelings aloud, my ego can’t take another hit, so I’m going to insist we go for fourteen items.”
“Fourteen? That’s so random.” She grinned.
“On the surface perhaps, but if you let me explain, I’m sure you’ll agree it’s perfect.”
“You’re always so confident. You think you know me that well?”
“Don’t push your luck, princess. Now, let me get back to what I was saying. The number fourteen combines the vibrational frequency of the numbers one and four. The number one is associated with new beginnings and freedom.”
“Vibrational frequencies, huh?” she smiled. My breath caught in my throat.
“Yes. And the number four is a number that represents stability and balance. We need to consider its connection to the number five as well.”
“Which is?”
“I’m getting to that part. Patience. I’ll be sure to include something on this list to test yours a bit more. You could definitely use the practice.”
“You’re dangerously close to being replaced, secretary.”
“And who else would you recruit? You already told me the girls are a no-go.”
“Then you’d better wow me with something astute, or I’ll put out an ad.”
She stuck her tongue out, and I had to fight every urge in me not to lean down and suck it into my mouth and devour her. My eyes moved to Declan, and I concealed my rampant thoughts.
She wanted astute. Only time would tell if she thought it was or not. I grinned. Numerology was something I’d dabbled in for a few years. Looking for that mystical or divine relationship between numbers became an obsession.
“Very well. You see, numbers represent energy.” I paused to gauge her reaction. She looked surprised at the entire train of my thoughts. “You thought all I cared about was dance, huh?”
“That and spending copious amounts of time at the club doing God knows what.”
“You’re fully aware of what goes down in the club. I’m curious. Have you ever been inside?”
She gave a harsh laugh. “Me? Never. I have no reason to. It may be something Kins and Tori are into, but I can assure you I’m in the camp of never.”
“That’s too bad,” I teased, as her eyes widened.
In the second it took me to respond without thinking it through, I’d started flirting with her. Again. God, she made it easy. I shouldn’t be entertaining the idea, despite the fact that when she left tonight, her scent would linger on my pillows.
Fuck. She was too tempting. And now she’d confirmed what I already knew—what I liked, she never could. Not that I could blame her. Of everyone, I probably knew the least when it came to the experience the girls had.
Kinsley liked to think she was protecting me from knowing. Tori and my relationship was still growing, and there was no expectation that she would open that part of her world to me. It wasn’t necessary.
Because she lived in fear longer and was subjected to intense torture by her ex-husband, there were subtle differences Marcel pointed out to be mindful of. She was progressing, though, and didn’t flinch every time or cower in fear when one of us bellowed.
My desire to explore the lifestyle was not impulsive by any means. It started in subtle ways, even before the auction. And the resulting week I’d spent with Leena opened my eyes to what truly existed in that realm. I seized it. I’d always been adventurous but never had an opportunity to explore.
When I ended things with Hannah, my entire life changed. I approached the guys with trepidation, fearing what I didn’t know. Maybe I wasn’t a good fit. Feelings of inadequacy almost kept me silent.