Chapter Three #2
He closed the fridge and walked, dripping water, back to the table. He sat down. “Bailey.”
She sent him a serene smile. “Yes, Nash?”
He dragged a hand though his hair, scattering water drops. “I don’t even know where to start.”
“Take your time,” she urged. “Want some more water?”
His eyes narrowed. “Can you please be serious?”
“Oh, I’m very serious,” she assured him. “I want to do this, Nash. It’s my birthday wish.”
“You’re still doing that?”
“Of course. It’s a sacred tradition.”
“Sacred tradition,” he muttered. “Christ.”
“My thirtieth birthday wish,” she went on cheerfully. “But no pressure.”
“I thought you wanted to go to Paris for your thirtieth birthday.”
Surprised he remembered, she shrugged. “This is cheaper, and no jet lag. Plus, Chloe kind of set the theme with her wish back in January, so I figured I’d go with it.”
He blinked. “What was Chloe’s birthday wish?”
She hesitated, then gave a mental shrug. It wasn’t like Chloe’s relationship was a secret. “A threesome. That’s how she ended up with Jesse and Knox.”
He looked pained. “I didn’t need to know that.”
“Then why’d you ask?”
“Jesus.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “Why me?”
“Why you for the gang bang?” At his nod, she simply said, “Because you owe me.”
“That’s not why.”
“It is so,” she said, annoyed.
“That might be part of it, but it’s not all.”
“Because it’s not just a gang bang. I need someone I can trust with this, that I can trust with me. That’s you.”
He was watching her so closely, his gaze dark and unreadable under his dripping hair. “You really want to do this?”
“I am going to do this,” she corrected. “If you don’t want to do it with me, I’ll find someone else.”
His spine snapped straight. “Who?”
Feigning nonchalance she didn’t feel, she shrugged. “I’ll hire a sex worker.”
“The hell you will.”
“It’s a perfectly viable option,” she shot back, meeting his outrage with defiance. “And the safest.”
“That may be true, but doing something like this with a stranger is…”
“A terrible idea?” she ventured sweetly when he trailed off. “Well, that’s why I asked you, but you’re being all prissy about it.”
“I’m not being prissy,” he muttered. “I’m being cautious.”
“You say potato.”
“Jesus, you’re a pain in my ass.” He glared at her, and she glared right back.
“Are you going to do it or not?”
He watched her for a moment, eyes glittering, then he nodded. “Yes. But I have conditions.”
She rolled her eyes to cover her relief. “Of course you do.”
“They’re non-negotiable.”
She smirked. “Blah, blah, blah.”
“I’m serious, Bailey.”
“Fine. What are they?”
He shook his head. “We’ll get into it later.”
She frowned when he pushed back from the table. “I want to get into it now.”
“Tough shit.” He started to turn away, then stopped. “You got anyone in mind?”
“For what?”
“For the other…” He waved a hand. “Participants.”
“No.” Annoyed, she jutted out her chin. “That’s your job.”
He nodded. “You work tomorrow?”
“Yes.”
“When?”
“I’ve got a full day, eight to six. Why?”
“I’ll bring home dinner. We’ll talk then.”
“Why not now?” she demanded.
“Because I need to think about all this, and so do you.”
“I’ve been thinking about this for eight years, Nash,” she told him. “I know what I want.”
“Think about it anyway. Tomorrow night,” he reminded her, then he turned and walked out of the kitchen.
And left her sitting there with an odd combination of relief, irritation and arousal to sort through.
* * * *
“And he just walked out?”
“Yep.” Scissors in hand, Bailey deftly snipped at the section of Chloe’s hair she held between two fingers, then ran her comb through it.
She’d already done the bulk of the cut and had blown Chloe’s silky blond hair dry, and was now on touch ups.
“And I had to go over to my mom’s for dinner, so I didn’t see him the rest of the night. ”
“Hmm.”
Drawing up another section of hair, Bailey paused to meet Chloe’s eyes in the mirror. “What does that mean?”
“Nothing.” Chloe blinked wide, guileless eyes. “I just think it’s interesting that he’s being so cautious.”
“I don’t think it’s interesting.” Bailey went back to snipping, the sound loud in the nearly empty salon. It was after six, and all the other stylists had gone home. “I think it’s weird. And annoying.”
“Maybe that’s why he’s doing it. To piss you off.”
Bailey considered that for a second, then shook her head. “That’s never been Nash’s style. He’s too straightforward.”
“So then he needed time to think.”
“Why?” Snip, comb, snip. “I’m offering him sex. Why can’t he just take it like a normal guy?”
“Did you offer him sex?”
“Yes.”
“I mean, explicitly and specifically.”
“Oh.” Bailey paused. “No, I guess not.”
“Maybe he thought you just wanted him to, like, direct the action,” Chloe ventured. “Like an intimacy coordinator on a movie set. You’re cutting more than we agreed on.”
“No, I’m not. You sure I can’t talk you into some color?”
“No, and stop trying to distract me.”
“It was worth a shot. Hold still, I’m almost done.”
Expression pained, Chloe closed her eyes. “So?”
Bailey worked fast, racing against the ticking clock of Chloe’s haircut anxiety. “So, what?”
“Intimacy coordinator or full participant?”
She hadn’t considered just having him there in a strictly supervisory capacity. “I don’t know. I guess there are pros and cons to both.”
“Want my opinion?”
She didn’t, but as long as Chloe was focused on the Nash problem, she wasn’t paying attention to what Bailey was doing to her hair. “Sure.”
“Don’t sleep with him. There’s too much history between you, too much baggage.”
Bailey shoved irritation aside to focus on the sharp points coming down in front of Chloe’s ears. “The history is why I want him there,” she reminded her friend as she snipped and shaped. “He knows me, knows what I want.”
“I don’t think you know what you want,” Chloe muttered.
“What was that?” Bailey asked sweetly, though she’d heard perfectly.
“Nothing.” Chloe popped one eye open. “He can be there without fucking you.”
“Yeah, but I think that would make it weird,” Bailey said, and leaned back to eye her work. A little more off the left side, she decided, and raised the scissors. “Keep your eyes closed.”
The eye shut again. “That’s what would make it weird?” Chloe wondered.
“Are you throwing stones from your glass house?” Bailey asked, gratified when Chloe winced.