CHAPTER FORTY-TWO
Giles
"YOU AND JULIA HAVE been getting pretty close, lately," Ava says.
I can't read her expression. Her back is toward me as she prepares food on the kitchen counter. Her tone leaves little else to gauge from.
My answer is a noncommittal grunt, as I continue eating leftover Chinese food.
"I'm just surprised," she says. "When I saw you guys hanging out, watching a movie the other night, you two seemed pretty cozy."
"We've gotten close."
"Really?" She looks over her shoulder to where I sit at the table. "How close?"
"She's…the person I'm closest to in my life right now, if I'm honest."
Disbelief and a strange curiosity swirl around Ava's face.
"What?" I ask, pausing to swallow a mouthful of food. "Is that really so hard to believe?"
"I guess I can see it. I'm never really around. You two have a lot of alone time together…" She pauses. "I guess it was bound to happen. You two either hating each other so badly one or the other opted to move out, or…becoming friends."
Her tone is unassuming, but I know she's fishing for information. If there's something she wants to know, she should just go ahead and ask me straight on.
I pretend my response isn't needed, and simply eat my lunch. She sits beside me after a few minutes, bringing her plate along. The salad she's so carefully fixed is a heaping mound of leafy greens topped with strawberries, avocados, and nuts. I bet she envies my plate of beef and broccoli on egg noodles.
"So, since you and Julia are so close," Ava starts, doubt creeping into her tone, "I'm assuming she knows what next Friday is?"
My jaw freezes mid-chew and I have to remind myself to keep eating. Swallowing, I say, "No. She doesn't know."
Ava lets out a sigh. "Giles, why do you keep choosing to go through this alone?"
"I won't be alone," I say. "I'm meeting my mom. We're going together."
"You know what I mean. You need to talk to someone about it. So if you're going to feed me this bullshit about Julia being your closest friend, at least make your lie convincing and tell me she knows what next Friday really means."
Julia knows how my father died, and I mentioned a while ago that the anniversary's approaching, but I've never given her a date. The closer the date grows, the less I want to tell her. It's just not something I've wanted to acknowledge aloud.
I get up and head to the kitchen sink, Ava's words still pricking away at me like tiny needles. "Just mind your business for once, Ava."
"This is my business. You're my family, Giles, and I hate to see you doing this to yourself."
I turn around. "Really? How is what I'm doing any different from what you're doing?"
"What are you talking about?" She pushes her food away and crosses her arms over her chest. She knows exactly what I'm talking about.
"I refuse to talk about my dad. You refuse to talk about your mom. I threw myself into sex. You threw yourself into work. How does everything you're saying apply to me and not to you? And why the hell should I listen to you if you can't take your own advice? You're practically the only family I've got, Ava. And you won't let me help you."
She stares at me, mouth parting slowly, but no words coming out. Her eyes glisten under the threat of tears. The sight alone is enough to make me regret my tone.
"Shit," I say, running a hand over my forehead. "Don't cry. Please."
There's no kryptonite like a woman's tears.
Ava gets up, her plate forgotten on the table. She approaches me, lips turned down and nose redder by the second. I'm unsure of what she's about to do until her arms loop around my middle and she hugs me tightly. I'm surprised at first. We haven't hugged since we were kids. But my arms come up around her. A stitch in my chest loosens as I realize how true my words are.
Apart from my mother, Ava is the only family I have. We're both only-children, with no siblings to turn to. We've been left alone to deal with the mess left behind for us. And we're both grieving our parents in different ways, for different reasons.
"You're right," she says, voice hitching in a sob.
"Let me help you," I plead. "Let me help with the care fees, Ava. Please?"
She shakes her head then starts crying. I don't know what to do, so I just keep on hugging her, until her crying slows down. She takes a deep breath and says, "I'm so tired, Giles. But I just hate being a burden."
"What else is family for?" I tease, my arms dropping to my sides.
She laughs as she pulls away. Her face is red, but not just from crying. She crosses her arms in a self-conscious way that tells me she's embarrassed of her breakdown.
"Damn it," she says. "I've gone a long time without crying."
"And I didn't even have to run over your science project with my bike," I tell her, reminding her of a time, long ago, when our worries were small and our worlds much simpler.
"You've always been such an asshole." She laughs at the memory I've conjured, both hands coming up to wipe the moisture from her cheeks. Then she goes quiet for a second, her eyes softening before she says, "Talk to her, Giles. If you won't talk to me, talk to her. Okay? How is she supposed to know you need her to be there for you, unless you tell her?"
I nod, but look away. There's no question about it, I need Julia like I need air. But there's still a wall even she, in all her efforts, hasn't managed to crack. A wall I'm not sure can ever be breached.
CHAPTER FORTY-THREE
Julia
LEX AND I SIT in her office, enjoying a delicious meal of pasta from a nearby restaurant whose food we aren't sick and tired of looking at yet. The food at our work is really good, but when you watch people eating steaks and potatoes for hours and hours a day, you're okay not looking at another slab of beef for a while.
I ask Lex for a Mr. Suit update, the way I do every so often, and she tells me things are moving pretty fast between them. She's meeting his parents soon.
I don't know. She doesn't talk about him the way I imagine you'd talk about someone you are excited to be with. But how do you go about telling a friend they should be more excited about their own love life? The answer is you don't. Unless you're a jerk. But then, you probably don't have any friends to begin with.
I don't worry so much about Lex because I know that she's not the type of person to jump headfirst into anything. She's methodical and calculated about the way she lives her life. Organized and effective. The problem is that life isn't always about moving pieces into their right places. Sometimes a decision that's technically a smart move might not be the right one.
It doesn't take long for the conversation to move toward my own, newly minted sex life. I get a little uncomfortable at this.
"Don't be weird, Julia, I'm very much familiar with how sex works. Trust me, I started way too young and have been in pretty awkward situations. You can tell me. Was it awkward?"
"No, it wasn't. It was…incredible."
I don't realize my hands are running up and down the arms of the chair until Lex gives me a pointed look, smiling a little.
"Did he make you…?" She trails off but I know what she means, so I nod.
"Twice last night. And twice this morning."
"Damn," she says, impressed. "So every time you've done it, he's made you orgasm?"
"Why, is that weird?"
She shrugs. "It's not as easy for me and most women I know. But I'm glad he's…uh, doing something right."
I'm chewing on my lip, giddy excitement rushing through me like I'm sharing my Christmas presents. "I feel like a little girl, Lex. It's really embarrassing. I can't stop smiling when I think about it."
"Don't be embarrassed. It's exciting," she says, with a genuine smile. "So you guys are a couple now, eh?"
I feel my expression pull together at this question, but I'm not immediately sure why it sounds so strange. "Isn't it obvious?"
Her features soften into something less certain. "You two haven't talked about it?"<
br />
"Talked about what, exactly?"
"What's changed between you? Where you stand now? What this means going forward?"
I readjust in my seat, suddenly uncomfortable. Then I stall from having to respond by taking a small sip of soda. Lex is waiting for my answer, stirring the open container of pasta in her hand.
"You don't have to tell me more about it, if you don't want to," she says.
"No, I like talking about things with you, helps me sort stuff out in my own head. But to answer your question, no, we haven't talked about it yet."
"Okay." She shrugs then places a fork full of food into her mouth.
"Wait. You think we should?"
She chews quickly, bringing a napkin up to her mouth. "Uh, yeah. I think it's important."
I look down at my own food, the knots in my stomach suddenly affecting my appetite. I'm not sure why I'm so nervous. "I guess I just didn't think this was a conversation we needed to explicitly have."
"You can't just assume that sex equals commitment. It doesn't work that way for guys." She hesitates, then adds, "I mean, it's not a big deal if you don't make it a big deal."
Great. Now it's a big deal.
I'm suddenly filling up with dread and no amount of soda can wash away the taste. I don't want things between Giles and me to be casual in any way. I don't think he does, either.
"I told him from the beginning I didn't want to be friends with benefits."
"Yeah, but since then, you two have touched privates. And right before it all happened you two were still just friends, weren't you?"
I nod. Then I shove some pasta into my mouth just so that the pair of us can chew in silence for a while. It's ridiculous that the topic makes me nervous. Giles and I are good at talking about what's on our minds. I just have to approach him on the matter and put it to rest. He knows me well enough to know I'd never be okay with some half-assed relationship. But Lex is right. Part of adult relationships is having uncomfortable conversations, and though it may seem trivial and maybe even redundant, I need to be certain he and I are both on the same page.
"I don't mean to sound cynical," she says, and I nearly laugh because cynical is her middle name, "but in my experience, guys are perfectly content being in gray areas as long as they are getting what they want. It's the woman that has to push them one way or another, either explicitly demand it or implicitly ask for it. Either way, the woman sets the tone of the relationship. You know the saying…men will take the cake you bake, they will eat it, and they will not share what's left."
"I don't think that's how the saying goes," I say with a snort. "But okay, I'll talk to him about it tonight."
Another few minutes of silence follow where we chew our meals. Then the reason for all my nerves comes bubbling to the surface of my lips.
"What if I'm wrong about everything? What if I have to walk down to my end of the hall with a broken heart?"
"Then you call me," Lex says, "and I'll come get you. You can spend the night at my place, if you need to."
I nod but remain silent.
Lex watches me for a moment, a fleeting expression crossing her face before she says, "Don't be scared of a broken heart. It mends back stronger."
I hope I never have to find out.
Once I do get home, I find myself stalling. Usually, I take a shower and go to my room to change before slipping down the hall to Giles. But tonight, I dress in my pajamas and lie on my own bed.
For a few seconds, I think about how I haven't slept in my own bed in forever. I consider that maybe I should sleep in it tonight. But of course, that's just my nerves talking. Because I know I need to have a conversation with Giles about where we really stand. Broaching the subject shouldn't be difficult, it shouldn't be complicated, and yet I'm afraid that his response will be the wrong one. That my question will ruin everything.
My thoughts are disrupted by the buzzing of my phone. I snatch it up from beside me and look at the screen. It's Giles.
"Hey, are you still at work?" he asks, and something about his voice makes my stomach flutter, because I can almost hear how anxious he is to see me.
Of course he is, you idiot, a voice comes from the back of my mind, what guy wouldn't be anxious about having sex?
I shake my head, dislodging the thought.
"No, I'm home. I just wanted to lie down for a bit."
"So you're in your bed and I'm in mine," he says. "One of us is in the wrong place."
"Maybe. Maybe you should come this way, for a change."
"I would, but there's a troll at the end of the bridge, blocking my passage to the sweet maiden I wish to deflower."
I cover my mouth to stifle my snicker. "Oh God. Really? Please don't call it that."
"Answer my question."
"You didn't ask a question," I point out.
"Why aren't you in my bed right now? Are you not feeling well? Did I hurt you this morning?"
"You're so full of yourself. What, do you think you left me paralyzed using merely the force of your penis?"
"Didn't I?"
"Not exactly," I say with a laugh. "But…I'd be lying if I said I didn't still feel you inside me throughout the day."
"Even now?"
"Yeah…right now, too."
"What does it feel like?"
I bite my lip, staring at the ceiling. "When you slide inside, I can feel myself taking you in, you filling me. It's this burning, but a burn that feels good, you know?"
For two whole seconds, all I hear is his breathing. "Where are your hands right now?"
"Well…one is holding the phone and the other is…"
"Yeah?"
"It's lying on my stomach."
He lets out a small laugh. "Why don't you move it down a little?"
"Okay."
"Where is it now?"
"It's slipping under my panties."
"I want you to touch yourself and tell me how wet you are."
I take a breath as my fingers find the velvet warmth between my thighs. "I'm so wet."
"Julia?"
"Yeah?"
"I don't think I could be gentle tonight. I want to fuck you blind and hard. I want to make you come with my mouth, then with my cock. I want to fuck you all night long. Would you like that?"
I shiver. His words send strings of delicious sparks shooting to the spot where my fingers now stroke. "Yeah. I want that."
"Then get over here."
The line clicks dead.
CHAPTER FORTY-FOUR
Giles
JULIA'S IN MY BED for two whole seconds before I pull her under me and kiss her. All I'm wearing is boxers, but she's got on a t-shirt and pajama pants. A situation I start to remedy immediately by peeling away her shirt. Having her breasts pressed to my chest is heavenly.
Everything is going good until I gently nudge her legs apart with my knees, and she brings her hands up to my face and pushes me away from her lips.
"Can we talk for a minute?"
Honestly, those are not the words I want to hear at the moment. I urge her legs farther apart and let her feel the urgent situation in my boxers by pressing it hard against her.
"Can we talk after?"
I go to kiss her again but she speaks into my mouth. "Please?"
I push myself onto my elbows so I can look at her properly, suddenly worried something is really wrong. "What's on your mind, beautiful?"
She searches my face and I notice for the first time that she seems worried. "Is this supposed to be a secret? What we do together?"
That's a strange question. "You've always said you wanted to keep what we do between us, so I haven't told anyone, if that's what you're worried about."
"What are we doing, though? What is this?"
I tilt my head, not liking the way her lips turn down. "What do you mean, what is this? You know what this is. You know how much I care about you. Don't you?"
She nods, but still doesn't seem satisfied. "So are we in a relationship?"
&nb
sp; "What?" I blurt out.
Her question plunges me into the realization of just how much has changed between us.
My thoughts scurry past in quick succession. We're no longer just friends. If we're no longer friends, we're no longer safe. Answering her question will set it all in stone and make it real. What's real can break. What's real can be taken away.
She starts to say something else but I take the opportunity to kiss her. I don't want to think about how fragile this thing between us is now. All I want to think about is making her feel good, feeling her under me. The only thought I want whirling in my head is how I can make her come again.
"Stop worrying. Let's just be where we are, enjoy what we have."
"But…"
I grind into her again and she lets out a delicious little moan.
"We can talk more, or I can make good on what I promised over the phone."
She sighs and I brush my lips over hers. We share the ghost of a kiss, our lips grazing, mouths open, hot breaths making my thoughts fog.
"I want to taste you," I say against her mouth.
I bring a hand flat against her navel, before dragging it slowly under her pajama pants.
"Yeah," she breathes, as I cup over the soft curve that yields to the hot spot between her legs. My fingers find soft, wet skin.
I move down to her lower half and kiss her exposed stomach. Her body reacts to me by arching off the bed and almost wiggling away at the sensation. She has a beauty mark just under her hipbone, right at the corner of the V shape between her hips. I run a thumb over it then kiss it. I set a hand on each of her hipbones as my kisses trail downward, my tongue tracing circles on her skin. Her breathing tells me every time she feels a jolt of pleasure. She gives a little gasp and seems to hold her breath for a beat before letting it out again. I take my time kissing her skin as my hands peel her pants farther and farther down, revealing a pair of electric blue panties. They look hot on her, but I waste no time peeling them off of her along with her pants.
She shivers when I kiss her inner thighs and her knees come up on either side of me as I move my mouth up to the center. I take my time, working my lips around hers and licking her clit. She jolts periodically and whimpers whenever I suck on it. Her fingers close over my hair, pulling my face against her, as she grinds against my mouth, whining under her breath.
Enamor (Hearts of Stone #3) Page 21