by Hazel Kelly
He moved his lips to my cheek and then just below my ear, his hands exploring my body as he kissed his way down my neck.
Finally, I thought, as I held his shoulders to keep from wilting.
His hand found the zipper at the back of my dress, and every hair on my body stood up as he pulled it down to my waist, his lips still on my throat.
I shuddered as he slid his palm onto my bare back and started for my bra, but just before the tips of his fingers reached the clasp, there was a knock on the door.
F O U R T E E N
- Landon -
Margot’s body stiffened in my arms at the first knock, and when the unwanted visitor pounded even harder a second time, she leaned back and looked at me.
The hazy lust drained from her eyes like she’d just been woken from a deep sleep. “If you need to get that—”
I shook my head and slid a hand up the back of her neck, clenching a clump of her hair in my fist and pulling her head back so I could stare at her wet, panting lips, the same lips I’d been jerking off to all fucking week. I gritted my teeth. “What I need is to—”
“Open up, Landon. It’s me.”
I flinched at the sound of Christophe’s voice, struggling to recall the details of a hurried conversation I’d had with him last weekend.
Margot raised her eyebrows.
“It’s my neighbor,” I whispered, loosening my grip on her as I looked towards the door. “Go away.”
“What do you mean go away?” he asked. “Ben’s thing is in two hours, and I can’t drink all this Patrón by myself.”
“He’ll be right there,” Margot said, turning around and lifting her hair.
“Oh shit,” Christophe mumbled. “I didn’t realize you had a girl in there… Please tell me she’s coming to the party with friends.”
I stared down Margot’s back at the gold zipper on her dress, my heart sinking with my hard-on. It was like being asked to relock a safe I’d been trying to crack for ten years. I grabbed her shoulders and leaned over one of them to whisper in her ear. “I’m so sorry. I completely forgot about this thing.”
She tilted her head so her mouth was right by mine again. “It’s okay. I have to be going anyway.”
“We haven’t even eaten yet. I can get out of this.”
“I’d rather you just zip me up.”
I slid my hands around her waist and spread a palm over her stomach, hugging her body against mine and inhaling the sweet smell of her perfume. “I’d really rather not.”
“Please,” she said. “Your friend is right outside the door.”
“Is this me being blown off?” Christophe asked. “Because it’s kind of hard to get a sense of what’s going on from this side of the door.”
I zipped Margot’s dress back up, my eyes sinking into every inch of her smooth skin before I made it disappear.
She dropped her hair and spun around to face me, the former innocence in her eyes replaced by a more guarded look.
“I’m not going to let you leave without dinner.”
She lifted a hand and dragged it lightly down my chest, pulling it back before she reached the waistband of my jeans. “I’m not sure I have much of an appetite now that I’m full of…other stuff.”
God, how I wanted to be what she was full of. “I’m so sorry,” I said, hoping she knew how thoroughly I meant it. After all, I wasn’t just sorry for Christophe’s arrival or for forgetting I had plans. I was sorry for confusing things between us mere moments after the flood gates were opened…and for not opening them sooner.
“Don’t worry about it,” she said. “If you have plans, you have plans.”
“You inspired me to change my plans pretty quickly just now.”
A soft knock hit the door as if made by the sound of someone’s head.
I groaned and went to open it. Sure enough, Christophe was standing there in one of his overpriced clubbing shirts, his hair gelled in a way that must’ve taken him at least a half-hour of mirror time.
He leaned his head inside before following with his feet. “Holy shit. You really do have a woman in here. Sorry I didn’t fuck off, but I had to see it to believe it.”
I swung the door shut. “Don’t be a jackass.”
“Seriously.” He looked at Margot like he half expected her to evaporate. “I know gay guys who are less picky about women than you.”
Margot leaned off the counter and smoothed her dress down as Christophe walked into the kitchen and stuck his hand out.
“Christophe,” he said. “Nice to meet you.”
“Margot,” she said, taking his hand.
He checked her out so blatantly her cheeks burst into flames.
“How did you two meet?” he asked, setting an unopened bottle of Patrón down on the counter.
“She’s Matt’s sister,” I said at the exact same moment Margot said, “We work together.”
Christophe’s eyes bounced between us for a second before settling on her again. “Are you coming to Ben’s thing tonight?”
“I don’t know anything about Ben’s thing,” she said. “I was just leaving.”
I crossed the kitchen, determined to keep her from leaving empty-handed.
“My buddy’s throwing a party tonight to celebrate the fact that he just opened a club in Hong Kong,” Christophe explained as I pulled some Tupperware from a drawer. “That’s really all there is to know.”
“Sounds like fun,” she said.
I scooped as much pasta into the container as I could, trying to give her the parts with the most melted cheese.
“That’s plenty,” she said, laying a hand on my shoulder.
“You should come,” Christophe said, walking around the counter to perch on a bar-stool as if he’d finally sensed the tense situation he’d walked into.
“Maybe another time,” she said. “It was lovely to meet you, though.”
“Despite the circumstances,” he added, coming as close to an apology as I expected he would get.
Margot grabbed her purse and headed for the door.
When she stepped into the hallway, I handed her the warm container of pasta. “This isn’t how I wanted tonight to end.”
She raised her brows. “How did you want it to end?”
“With you not leaving, for one.”
Her eyes smiled. “Thanks for a lovely evening, Landon. I really enjoyed myself.”
“Can I at least call you an Uber or something?”
She shook her head. “You’ve done enough.”
“I was only getting started.”
She looked down at her feet and took a slow step back before looking up at me again from behind flushed cheeks. “Have fun tonight,” she said. Then she turned and headed down the hallway to the elevators.
I watched her until one arrived, smiling when she looked at me one last time before getting on. Then I shut my door and gave Christophe the look he deserved.
“Don’t look at me like that,” he said. “It’s not my fault you forgot you invited me over.”
I sighed.
“Or that you didn’t finish whatever you were doing with her sooner.”
“That,” I said, heading for the remaining pasta, “I can’t argue with.”
“I’ve never seen you like this,” he said. “Who did you say she was again?”
“Matt’s little sister.”
“Matt who?”
“Roberts,” I said, forking some pasta straight from the dish.
“As in your best friend who I met at that—”
“Yeah.”
“Shit.”
“What?” I asked as I chewed.
“Is he cool with you looking at his little sister like that…and whatever the hell else you were doing?”
I swallowed my bite. “He doesn’t know.”
Christophe’s lips formed a tight O as he pulled the cork from the tequila.
I furrowed my brow. “What? There’s nothing to know.”
“Look, Landon. It’s
not my business what you tell yourself, but if you ever even think about looking at my little sister like that, you better fucking tell me before you do it.”
I grabbed two shot glasses from a nearby cabinet and set them on the counter. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“I know that bitch was in heat when I came in here.”
My lips twitched towards a smile. “Why don’t you shut up and pour some shots already?”
F I F T E E N
- Margot -
My body felt light and airy on the way home, as if Landon’s touch had turned me into Marshmallow Fluff from head to toe, and as soon as I floated in the door, I ate every cheesy bite of his pasta bake, marveling at how deliciously flavorful it was.
Yet despite how impressive his culinary skills were, they didn’t come close to his carnal competencies. Never in my life had I felt so possessed by someone’s touch. He made me feel so sexy I completely forgot that he knew what a freckle-faced nerd I was growing up.
In his arms, I was all woman, and my mind spun with questions about how far I might’ve gone to prove it to him if that knock hadn’t come.
Would he have gone all the way with me? Just like that? Could I have found myself in a panting, naked heap on his kitchen floor, having finally felt him inside me the way I’d ached for since I was a teenager?
I mean, he was already inside me. His voice, his friendship, his childhood memories. I’d internalized so much of him as it was.
But the physical piece was missing, and its absence was tangible.
However, just because I wouldn’t have said no to him didn’t mean I was ready to go there. Not tonight. Not without warning. After all, I wanted everything to be perfect when—if—that happened. That way, I could savor every moment…instead of being distracted by my lack of preparatory grooming, for example.
Not that I’d be thinking clearly in that situation regardless.
Even when I was leaving his apartment after that kiss, I felt like I’d been spinning with my eyes closed and then set free. My vision was blurred, my legs were unsteady, and I felt on the verge of falling for ages, a sensation that filled me with a mess of butterflies and trepidation. A sensation I couldn’t tell if I liked.
Of course, I couldn’t investigate it further. Not only would it mean risking my job—and his—but it would seriously rock our family dynamic. I mean, as far as Matt and my parents were concerned, Landon was blood. He’d practically lived at our house growing up. He’d vacationed with us in the summer. All of that could be called into question if we became…
Which is why I wasn’t completely disappointed by Christophe’s untimely arrival. If anything, it was good for me to have a chance to breathe and think things through. Because while it was one thing to habitually want Landon with every fiber of my being, it was quite another to discover he might actually want to undress me and pull my hair.
Or ask me to stay the night.
I rolled onto my side and fluffed my pillow beneath my head. What was it that Christophe had said? That Landon was super picky about women? If that were true, it would go some way towards explaining why I’d never met a girlfriend of his, though for years I’d assumed it was because he preferred promiscuity.
Then again, sleeping around doesn’t mean someone is easy to please. All it means is that they enjoy sex, which isn’t something I’d hold against anyone.
That being said, I knew better than to think we could be friends with benefits. We’d known each other too long, too well. It was impossible to imagine him fucking me and not calling. He might do that to other girls, but surely he wouldn’t do that to me, right?
I threw the covers off and stood up, suddenly aware that I was never going to fall asleep with so many thoughts tickling my mind like fuzzy caterpillars. I needed a distraction, something to help me get outside myself. I pulled some jeans and a sweatshirt on, grabbed my phone, and headed out into the night.
It was thrilling for a relatively sheltered girl like me to walk through sketchy alleys in New York City, and by the time I reached the homeless shelter around the corner, my adrenaline was running so high that kissing Landon was a million miles from my mind.
The large cafeteria space at the front of the building was warm and smelled like chicken noodle soup. I was careful not to stare at any of the diners as I made my way towards the volunteers behind the counter.
“Hi,” I said to no one in particular. “I was wondering if you could use an extra pair of hands?” I pulled them from my pockets and lifted them up with a shrug.
A woman in a purple hairnet smiled. “We’re almost done serving food for the night,” she said. “But we can always use help with the washing up.”
I raised my eyebrows and awaited further instruction.
“Grab that container there,” she said, nodding to a plastic tub full of dirty plates. “And take it in the back.” She pointed a gloved hand towards a door at the end of the counter. “Ask for Ella. She’ll get you sorted.”
I rolled my sleeves up, hoisted the heavy tub off the counter, and headed towards the open door. As soon as I walked in the kitchen, a pretty woman in a red apron approached me. She had the loveliest shade of brown hair I’d ever seen, and I couldn’t be sure, but the slight bulge in her belly made me think she might be pregnant.
“Hi,” she said, gesturing for me to put the tub down on one of the silver sink tops. “I’m Ella.”
“Margot,” I said. “I thought I’d come help out for a bit, if I can be of some use.”
“Of course. Can I ask how you heard about the place?”
“I just moved in around the corner. My roommate told me about it.”
“Oh great,” she said. “Who’s your roommate?”
“Izzy Jennings?”
Ella smiled. “Lucky you.”
“What can I do to help?” I asked.
“Just give these a scrub,” she said, patting the edge of the tub I’d carried. “Then set the plates on the drying racks over here. Bowls go on the left.”
“Sure thing.”
She pulled a pair of yellow gloves from her back pocket and handed them to me. “If you don’t mind me asking, what brings a young woman like you to a place like this on a Friday night?”
Something about her doe eyes made me feel like I’d known her forever. “I just needed to get out of my own head for a while.”
“Well, this is the perfect place for it,” she said, laying a manicured hand on my shoulder. “But if you’re in real trouble, you can talk to me. I’ll do whatever I can to help.”
“Thanks,” I said, slipping the gloves on. “But it’s nothing like that. I just can’t sleep.”
She squinted at me. “Because…?”
I pressed my lips together, took a deep breath, and sighed. “I think I might be in love with my brother’s best friend.”
Her expression softened. “I see.”
“And we just started working together, so he’s more off limits than ever.”
“You never know.” A sly smile graced her face. “Sometimes office romances work out.”
I grabbed a plate, faced the sink, and reached for the oversized faucet. “I don’t know.”
“Trust me,” she said. “Stranger things have happened.”
S I X T E E N
- Landon -
I was starting to think working with Margot was a really bad idea. Not that she wasn’t capable. She was bright, full of energy, and seemed to genuinely enjoy problem solving.
But ever since last Friday, I was having a much harder time separating my personal and professional persona. And sometimes when she was talking, I got so distracted by her lips that I couldn’t follow the words that were coming out of her mouth.
“Landon.”
The sound of my name interrupted my trance.
“Are you even listening?” she asked, leaning back in her seat at the conference table.
I thought it would be better if we met in the fishbowl room that week,
thinking the glass walls might encourage me to focus better since we had an important deadline coming up.
“Don’t you have to present all this stuff on Thursday?” she asked, batting her eyelashes more in annoyance than flirtation.
“Yeah, I’m listening.”
She clasped her hands on the table. “What did I just say?”
“You said you wanted to kiss me again, and I was about to tell you it wouldn’t be appropriate in this setting.”
She rolled her eyes, but a soft smile pricked her cheeks. “That’s not what I was saying at all,” she said, glancing towards the hall before lowering her voice. “And for the record, you kissed me.”
“I think you’ll find that you started it. When I burnt my thumb.”
She cocked her head. “Landon.”
“What?”
“Can we talk about this later? I still have two more ideas I want to run by you, and I’m taking minutes for Dick at two thirty.”
I sighed. “Fine. I’ll stop picturing you naked and start paying attention.”
The pink tint of her cheeks intensified.
“Sorry,” I said. “I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.”
She leaned forward and set an elbow on the table between us. “Can I be honest with you?”
“Of course.”
“I’ve never been so uncomfortable in my life.”
My face drooped.
“But I’ll only feel worse if you apologize for it.”
“Noted,” I said, the corner of my eye catching Dick mid-swagger in the hall. “Now, as far as your other ideas, I assume one is a proposal for the commercial?”
“It is.”
“Okay, go ahead.”
“I was thinking it could feature a montage of brilliant, instantly recognizable snapshots from around the world, but they would flash so fast you’d miss one if you blinked.”
“So viewers see something new in the ad every time they watch it?”
“Exactly,” she said. “And I think if we pull it off—and get the music right—it might even raise the viewer’s pulse, which would make it even more memorable.”
“I like it so far,” I said. “When does the advertising come in?”