Chapter 28
Emmy
“Wait, so you’re telling me that Luke Pullman washed your hair?” Sloane’s mouth hangs open as I recap my night. She’s sitting cross legged on the sofa with a pint of ice cream in her lap, which I promptly steal.
“Yup,” I say, grinning as I shovel cookie dough into my mouth.
“Girl, what have you done to the Big Daddy Dom? Are you seriously still trying to convince me this is a fuck buddy situation? Because this is giving insta love,” she says, cocking an eyebrow at me.
“It is a fuck buddy situation,” I reply, handing back the ice cream. “He’s just into aftercare, that’s all.”
Her eyebrows flick up.
“I can’t believe I’ve been sat here with Ben and Jerry and you’ve been getting dommed by the hottest daddy in London,” she says, with an exaggerated pout.
“I didn’t predict when we became roommates that you’d be getting so much more action than me.
Especially since you didn’t even know about Salt when we met! ”
“I know,” I laugh, giving her a smile. “Things have all happened rather quickly, eh.”
It’s all happened so fast – moving in with Sloane, tumbling into this thing with Luke – but nothing feels wrong. There are no internal flares signalling me to slow down or run for cover.
“Well, you be careful, ok? Who knows how many people he’s juggling at the club. I’d hate to see you get hurt.”
There’s a pause and I bite my lip.
“He’s not actually seeing anyone else,” I say lightly.
“What?”
“I asked if he had other playmates at the club. He said it’s just me.”
Sloane sits in silence, looking at me with raised eyebrows.
“Say something,” I reply. “You’re creeping me out.”
She laughs and shrugs.
“See, this is what I was half-joking about the other night. I mean, Luke is famous at Salt – everyone wants a piece of him. He doesn’t just… pick one person. If he’s pressing pause on everyone else for you, that’s a big deal.”
“What do you mean?”
“It’s probably nothing,” she eventually gets out. “But from what you’ve told me, this doesn’t sound terribly casual. I’ve had a lot of playmates, as you so elegantly put it, and none of them has ever been exclusive or been interested in washing my hair.”
She purses her lips and then smiles at me as her words echo around my brain.
“I’m going to turn in,” she says, rising from the sofa. “I’m really glad you had a fun night, Em.”
She gives me a look I can’t quite read, but her eyes are soft and I smile faintly back as she heads to her room.
I follow suit and head to my own bed. As I braid my damp hair and brush my teeth, Sloane’s words rattle around my brain.
This thing with Luke can’t be anything more than physical, can it?
Have I been enjoying myself so much that the lines have become blurry?
Luke’s always been hard to read and now that I’m seeing a whole new side of him, I’m more confused than ever.
He’s caring to a fault. I’ve never felt safer than when I’m with him.
But surely that’s the skill of anyone with experience running a club like Salt.
Making people feel safe is probably the magic ingredient behind Salt’s success.
It doesn’t mean he feels anything other than lust and friendship for me.
I shake my head, brushing the thoughts aside. Luke’s always made it clear that this is purely physical. I cannot and will not catch feelings for someone just because they’re washing my hair and giving me insane orgasms. Those are not the foundations of anything lasting.
With that thought in mind, I close my eyes. Luke’s face is the last thing I picture before I fall into a deep sleep.
The Monday morning after my power exchange session with Luke, I stride into the office like I own the place. I feel a new sense of confidence and I’ll be damned if I’m not letting that follow me into every aspect of my life.
My shoulders are back, my hair’s behaving, and when Jonathan from marketing tries to mansplain our own campaign strategy back to me, I cut him off with a smile sharp enough to draw blood.
We’re pitching for a big corporate partner today and I’m not letting anyone stop me from leading the presentation given how much of my blood, sweat, and tears went into the deck.
“Thanks, Jonathan,” I say sweetly. “I’ll take it from here.”
His mouth snaps shut. It hits me, then, that I’m not shrinking or apologising for once.
Maybe all that trust I’ve been practising with Luke has bled into here too.
Maybe this is what it feels like to finally take up space.
The rest of the team watches, wide-eyed, as I launch into the pitch I’d stayed up half the night fine-tuning.
I’m articulate, confident, and unapologetic. And for once, no one interrupts.
By the time I finish, there’s a smattering of actual applause. My boss beams like I’ve just solved climate change.
I’m walking back to my desk, adrenaline still fizzing through me, when I get an unwelcome text from Colin.
Cheating bastard
Hi Emmy, we need to talk. Can we meet for a drink after work?
I snort. I’d forgotten that Chloe had changed his name in my phone. I leave him on read for a couple of hours for my own petty amusement and then reply.
Sure.
Three dots flash up as he instantly replies.
Cheating bastard
I’ll pick you up at your office at 5pm.
No thanks. You can meet me at the Pret on the corner at 5:30pm.
There’s a pause. I can feel his annoyance from here.
Cheating bastard
Ok. See you then.
A few hours later, I head to the Pret a Manger close to my office and order myself a hot chocolate.
I’ll be damned if I’m going to go for a proper drink with Colin but I can’t help the flutter of anxiety in my stomach as I wonder why he wants to see me.
I’ve appointed my own solicitor and asked him to do the same.
There shouldn’t be any need for us to catch up unless something has changed.
I’m fiddling with my phone when the door opens, and in strides Colin, looking harried.
“Sorry I’m late, babe. I couldn’t find anywhere to park.”
I roll my eyes. I want to say: You can’t find anywhere to park because no sane person drives in London, idiot. Also, I’m not your babe. But I choose to be mature.
“What did you want to talk about?” I push. I’m not here for chitchat and I don’t want to be drawn into any sort of long discussion with the man that stole my 20s.
“How are you?” he says, eyes full of concern. “It must be tough being on your own.”
I scoff.
“I’m great actually,” I reply and realise it’s true.
He gives me a frown that says he doesn’t believe me.
“And you’re living in a flat now? With… flatmates?” He says the word like it’s a disease.
“One flatmate actually and she’s great. What did you want to talk about?” I repeat. I don’t need Colin’s faux concern and I don’t particularly fancy filling him in on my dazzling new life without him.
“Right. I have something I have to tell you, babe. This is going to hurt.” He reaches across the table and grabs my hand. I’m about to yank it back when he says, “Stacey’s pregnant.”
There’s a ringing silence between us and I raise my eyebrows before slowly pulling my hand out of his grip. The words land like a gut punch. I actually grip the table edge to stop myself reeling.
“She’s three months along. We had the scan yesterday. It all looks healthy, thank god. Total fucking nightmare with work of course but once the HR shit’s sorted, it will be fine. She’s been feeling rough as fuck but the midwife said that now she’s entering the second trimester…”
He keeps babbling, a smile plastered on his face as his voice fades into a droning hum in my ears. I just stare. Eventually, he stops, tilting his head like he’s waiting for me to look at him.
“So, it wasn’t just a fling then?” I reply, keeping my voice as even as I can.
“Well, it started that way. But it had been going on a few months when you… Well, before your birthday. I’m sorry, babe.”
He has the wherewithal to look remorseful at that, but I just nod.
“She’s going to move into the house,” he continues. “I’ll buy you out of it when we get the divorce through, ok? I just need you to come and collect anything else you want from it before the weekend.”
“This weekend?”
“Yes. Stacey wants to start prepping the nursery and I think she’d be uncomfortable if the house is still full of your stuff.”
I sigh. I can’t even summon the energy to be surprised anymore.
“Ok Colin. I’ll come by to get the rest of it this week.” I stand, looking down at a man who suddenly feels like a stranger. “Congratulations.”
I walk out before I hear him reply.