Chapter 13
Thirteen
James
A knock rang out into the silence and James glanced up from his phone, staring at Sophie in his bedroom doorway.
In lieu of her dress, one of his shirts covered her frame, tucked into a pair of his pants. Even though she’d asked for them so she wouldn’t have to sleep in a cocktail dress, his brain still short circuited at her draped in his clothes.
“Hey,” he managed. “It’s late.”
“I can’t sleep,” she admitted. “The mattress in your guest room is killing my back.”
He nodded and set his phone down. Getting out of bed, he motioned for her to take his vacated spot. “Then we can switch rooms. You take my bed for the night.”
A strange look crossed her face, but she quickly wiped her face of the expression. She crossed her arms, hugging herself as her toes scrunched. “Just stay.”
“I’m sorry?”
“Look, it’s not like we haven’t shared a bed before,” she said. “And it’ll make me feel better, knowing I didn’t kick you out.”
He chuckled. “I really don’t mind.”
She shook her head. “Stay.”
He nodded after a moment, retaking his spot.
She flipped back the covers on the other side. Scooching in, her foot brushed his calf.
Goosebumps rose and he shivered.
“Sorry.” She shifted a little, moving away and threatening to fall off the edge of the bed.
“It’s fine. Come closer before you hurt yourself,” he said.
She inched closer again before lying down, rolling onto her side, and turning her back toward him. “Thanks. Your bed’s better, by the way. Softer.”
He turned off the lamp on his nightstand, plunging the room into darkness. He mirrored her movements but faced her back instead. As his vision focused, he stared at her raven locks and resisted the urge to play with the ends of them.
“Sure thing.” He smiled. It’s the same kind of mattress, but I’m not complaining.
The next morning, James woke to Sophie lying on her stomach, half on top of him.
Her position mimicked the last time, with her head on his chest and one leg cast over his hips.
His hand rested on her back, beneath the soft fabric of his shirt. Reaching blindly for his phone, he held it above his face and tapped the screen for the time.
Groaning slightly, he set his phone back down and stared at the ceiling, doing his best to ignore Sophie’s soft breaths sweeping his torso.
Outside, the honks of mid-morning traffic split the air. Bars of golden sunlight split the high ceilings. It was so much later than he was accustomed to, but he’d never slept better in his life.
Sophie shifted and, a moment later, boosted herself, yawning.
“Morning,” he greeted.
She rubbed her eyes and bestowed a small smile. “Morning. Oh—”
She stared at their position, blinking rapidly. Climbing off him, she avoided eye contact. “Sorry.”
“It’s fine.” He glanced at her again and all the oxygen left his body.
Her hair was messy and her makeup from the night before slightly ruined, but he couldn’t care less.
“What?” she asked, tilting her head.
“Nothing,” he managed.
She adopted a strange look. “Alright, then I’m going to use the bathroom.”
She yawned again and swung out of bed, heading into the en-suite.
The breath whooshed back into him and he sighed, grabbing his phone from the wireless charger on his nightstand again. A new message from Marilyn lay in his inbox, and he clicked it open.
Since signing with them, Covey had released a flight of articles from reputable sources about Lotus, and while they had experienced a few new clients, it was hardly enough.
The Delacroix disaster had already become ingrained in Manhattan society, which meant whatever this was had to be some new tactic to gain Lotus good publicity.
He scanned the text inside, eyebrows flaring up.
We got invited to this gala because we represent the publication.
You need to come, too. This will be a good way to gain connections and make good impressions where it counts.
It’s only one night, but the publication blocked out rooms for the attendees at the hotel where the event is. So be prepared.
Below was an attachment for a fundraising gala on Friday being thrown by an online news publication.
Clicking his phone shut, he slipped it back onto the nightstand, a smile building on his lips.
The right conversations with the right people could ensure that only positive news about Lotus was circulating.
Excitement gathered and had a party in his stomach.
This could be it—this could be what finally fixed everything.
The ensuite door opened and Sophie came into view again, a strange look on her face. But before he could ask, she wiped it away and tilted her head.
“You look happy,” she noted. “What happened?”
He held his phone aloft. “Marilyn emailed about this event on Friday. She wants me to attend with you guys. We both think this could do wonders for Lotus’s image.”
“Oh, the fundraising gala?” Sophie asked, absentmindedly scratching her elbow. “I agree.” A strange look came over her face, but she wiped it away. Clearing her throat, she jabbed her thumb over her shoulder. “Um … I’m going to go change and head home. Thanks for letting me stay again.”
The ends of her hair whirled as she turned, heading out his bedroom door.
He blinked before getting out of bed and rushing after her.
“Wait,” he blurted.
She paused, glancing over her shoulder.
“That’s it? You’re just going like that?”
“Well, what did you expect?” She turned fully, not quite hiding that same strange glimmer in her eyes. “This isn’t a relationship, James, and I realized in the bathroom that last night … I shouldn’t have done that.”
Things clicked into place.
The gala might be a positive development, but it was also a step closer to them being done.
Of course, she didn’t want the commitment.
“Okay, but just listen to me, for a moment.” A lump formed in his throat, blocking his words.
But he forced them out, anyway. “I know we don’t like it, but we have to face the facts.
If Friday turns out to be the last day I’m working with Covey, then why don’t we start dating?
We can announce it publicly after the gala. ”
Her brow furrowed, and something flickered into her eyes before it disappeared. “We can’t do that. At least, not right away.”
“What? Why not?” he demanded. “There wouldn’t be a conflict of interest anymore. We’d be two people dating, like anyone else.”
She looked at him incredulously. “No, we wouldn’t. Please tell me you can see that.”
A lump formed in his throat as the hidden reality hit him hard, the double-edged sword finally revealing itself.
With his status, it wouldn’t make sense why he was dating her. People would wonder if something had happened when they worked together, which would ultimately lead them back to square one—speculation that Covey LLC. was committing the cardinal sin of PR and wasn’t reputable at all.
How could he have lost sight of that?
“Fine,” he gritted out. “So, what, this thing ends when I end things with Covey?”
She flinched. “I didn’t say that.”
“No, but you might as well have,” he muttered.
“Look, the boundaries that we set when we started this thing … faded,” she said. “Like I said, me staying overnight and asking you to stay instead of taking the guest room just worsened that.”
He fisted his hands and clenched his jaw.
Even if we didn’t let them disappear, we would’ve still gotten here eventually.
His lips pressed together as he stalked toward her. “Alright, so we set the boundaries again. Starting now.”
Winding her hair around his fist, he tugged her toward him and kissed her furiously. A moan slipped from her lips, getting lost in his mouth.
She was right; they had lived with obligations and commitments for too long, and now, if she wanted to go back to being no-strings-attached, he would give her that.
Breaking away from her mouth, he pushed her against the wall with his body and roughly planted kisses against her jaw. His hand pulled her hair again, tethering her to him.
“James—” she gasped.
“You want to leave?” He wouldn’t stop her if she said yes.
“No.”
He hummed, squeezing her breast over the shirt. “Okay, and you wanted no caveats, right?”
“I … yes.”
“Well, this is what no caveats looks like.”
Carrying her toward the kitchen counter, he set her on the edge.
“What are you doing?” she asked.
Sitting her down on the cool marble, he gripped her hips and tugged her toward him. Pushing the hem of her shirt up, he motioned for her to boost up so he could pull the shorts down. He sank to his knees and spread her thighs.
“Setting boundaries.”
He was insanely glad Pip hadn’t walked in.
Considering his friend lived so close, he tended to waltz into James’s apartment whenever he wanted.
They’d known each other for twenty-six years, but there were still unspoken boundaries between them, and Pip seeing James going down on Sophie while she was spread out on the kitchen counter was one of them.
“So, let’s talk about Friday.” He was going to pretend she hadn’t just ridden him so hard he saw stars.
She laughed. “You want to talk about business now?”
No.
What he wanted to talk about was where they were going. Sophie never gave him a definitive answer. Were they going to stay as … whatever this was forever, or would they part ways when all was said and done?
But he knew if he brought that up, they’d get nowhere.
Sophie glanced over at him. “What about it?”
“Are you bringing anyone?”
She arched a brow. “Would it make a difference if I was?”
A heatwave rolled down his skin, turning it feverish and clammy as his stomach twisted with nausea at the sudden thought she had a date. Maybe that was why she hadn’t said anything.
“No,” he said. “I just want to know what to expect, that’s all.”
She eyed him and got up. Going into the guest room, she emerged a moment later with her dress, and slunk it on. “No. Are you?”
Shaking his head, he fished his pants from the floor, pulling them on over his boxers.
He shouldn’t have cared if she had a plus one. It wasn’t like they could show up together, anyway.