by Sunniva Dee
He grabs a hold of me over the table, and I use my free hand to shield my eyes as if I’m watching the sun. He can’t scrutinize me this way.
“Leon, I’m honored.” I inhale, hesitating. It’s hard to form the words when he moves his head from side to side like he doesn’t want them.
“You’re right,” I whisper. “There are all kinds of relationships. Still—”
He guesses where I’m going. His headshake remains subtle, but it’s faster, more insistent. I’ve allowed my body to lie to the both of us, accepting and enjoying his advances.
Suddenly, the need to stop lying overwhelms me.
Suddenly, my stomach hurts from hiding the truth.
Leon can tolerate this rare blow to his ego, I rationalize. I draw in a breath, unable to wait a second longer, because I need to confess, tell him what’s killing me.
“No matter what I do, I think of him,” I manage. Then, I tip into ramblings. “Being with you makes me miss him even more, and I feel dirty for… Shit—I’m sorry! It’s not you. This just isn’t right.”
Leon is always strong, sure of himself. But now I look up and meet his gaze. It’s so light. It shimmers with a pain I’d never expect from him. He lifts my hand to his mouth and kisses my fingertips one by one.
“Our week isn’t over yet,” he says, smoothing over my outburst. “Give me one more night, Pandora. You won’t regret it.”
I’ve been on a one-week countdown waiting for my friends, for the beginning of a new year—heck, a new life! With the way he speaks, I wonder if he’s thought of this week as the opposite: quality time to spend with me. It would explain a lot.
Despite the hurt in Leon’s eyes, our confrontation could have been worse, I feel. So what if he’s got a tiny crush on me? There are plenty of girls salivating over him at the club. All he has to do is crook a finger, and they’ll come running to the rescue of his bruised ego.
“Leon, let’s be just friends, okay?” I say, my chest weightless with hope.
“Sugar,” he murmurs, a flicker of purpose passing through his eyes before his expression becomes a blank slate, “don’t blame me for trying.”
Half an hour later, I cling to Leon on the windy road down from the restaurant. I drag in fresh air through my nose, letting the roar of the motorcycle vibrate into my body.
Tonight, I’m not drinking. I’m starting my New Year’s resolution early. As we approach downtown Deepsilver, a gust of energy assails me as I consider the possibilities. A new year is meant to become just that—new. Fresh.
Ah, I’ll get my shit together. Ace my classes. Remain healthy and sober and never ever mess up. I won’t let Dominic’s love life interrupt our friendship again either, because I want to hear his voice, get used to speaking with him every day again. I’ll become worthy. Worthy of Dominic’s calls, texts—of his concern for me.
It’s Sunday, and downtown is unnaturally calm before the New Year’s parties begin. At the red light by the theater, Leon’s bike growls to a halt. Smother is a block and a half away, and I can’t wait to scrub my hangover off in the shower.
A small, olive-green car rumbles in the cross street to our left, blinker set in the direction we’re heading. The driver has a green light, but he’s not moving.
The color of the car reminds me of Dominic’s. My mouth steers upward as I recall our drives home from Smother. Once, I even informed him that the paint job brought out the green in his eyes.
I sense the driver’s focus on me. As I swing my head for a closer look, Leon shouts, “Hold on tight,” revs the engine, and does a U-turn on the red light.
I grab onto him, but my attention remains on the little car. For a moment, our sudden change in direction brings us closer.
It’s Dominic.
It is Dominic!
Dirty blond bangs tickle Dominic’s forehead. They’re longer than the last time he was in Deepsilver. Eyes I used to lose myself in widen and penetrate my visor, finding me—fixing me! My moan is drowned by the bike engine.
But then.
I can’t see him.
Leon and I blast through a back alley and up a side street to Smother. Instead of dropping me off up front, Leon pulls onto the patio. He bolts the gates behind us, and I unconsciously hug myself, my arms tightening around my midsection.
“You figured you’d take another way all of a sudden?” I ask.
“Yeah, the light took too long,” he replies but narrows his eyes at me. “Or are you insinuating something?” Before me, Leon morphs back to the controlling, no-bullshit man I know best. The one you don’t take any chances with. The one you obey without question.
“So it had nothing to do with Dominic sitting in his car at the traffic light?” I still venture.
Leon laughs a quiet laughter. “Pandora. I think you’re seeing things. The guy in the Corolla was not your little crush.”
I’m stunned at his dismissal. So stunned, I remain frozen in place while he stores away his motorcycle. Once he’s done, he swivels and entwines our fingers to walk me inside, but I tug my hand from his and stay where I am.
Leon’s eyes snap to me. He hasn’t lost his air of power and harnessed tension when he says, “I’m sorry if I came off blunt, Pandora. But if he were here—and interested—wouldn’t he have paid us a visit?”
My heart speeds up. Yes, Leon is making sense: everyone knows Smother is my second home. Once Dominic finds my apartment empty, he’ll come and find me… if he wants to.
What if he’s on his way to Smother?
Leon secures a hand on my hip when I begin to walk. “Christian texted me,” he says, his smile not quite reaching his eyes. He steers me toward the entrance of the club. “He’s picking up Shannon and your other friends at the airport. They’re coming straight here to be with you.”
Funny how such a short message can change everything. Alleviate the claustrophobia that set in the moment Leon bolted the patio gates closed behind us. Soon, goofy Mica, wise Destiny, and my astute Shannon will be here!
“Oh my God! Really? They’re on their way?”
“Yes, ma’am.” Leon’s eyes sparkle with genuine delight now as he studies me. “And I hope to keep you this excited all night,” he adds quietly.
39. TOGETHER
LEON
We’re an hour from doors opening on the biggest night of the year. I left Pandora to her own devices upstairs while my crew and I prepared Smother. She’s showering and primping. I’ve supplied her with endless champagne and strawberries to go with it. Because I want her content. Happy. I want her for me.
Pandora’s thinking about ditching me, but we’ve only just begun. Hell, I’ve never had to work to make a woman adore me before. I’m nothing if not tenacious, though, and it’s been a long time since I last failed on a mission.
I run through my mental checklist as I head upstairs and lock myself into the apartment.
One: Christian and I have prepped the top terrace we usually keep closed. The little storage room behind the counter has now been stacked floor to ceiling with kegs and cases of cheap chardonnay and champagne. The terrace bar will be manned by Arriane and Christian, and I’ll send more bartenders up toward the end of the night.
Two: all bouncers are on the lookout for Dominic. He won’t be allowed in.
Three: I still have Pandora’s phone, which I’ll keep until we’re ready to crash. I’ll leave it for someone to find when they clean up in the morning. By then, I’ve got to have her hooked on me.
Four: the girls are waiting impatiently downstairs. I’ll let them loose on Pandora in a minute. I just need to see her alone one last time before the night begins.
I slide the door to the bathroom open and find her leaning into the mirror, applying mascara. She’s wearing some dark corset-looking thing that causes her breasts to brim over. I can almost distinguish the faint red of her nipp
les. Below it, all she wears is a black thong, those round, white butt cheeks begging me to slap them. I don’t, though. I’m weighing my moves tonight.
Pandora responds nicely whenever I grab her, and this time is no exception. I surprise her. Press her front against the countertop, and use my hands to trap her in a hard embrace. Then, I dig into her with my hips, letting my mouth find an earlobe from my position of advantage behind her.
“Shit, Leon,” she gasps out in the apprehensive, aroused tone that drives me crazy. She might think she doesn’t want this, but I know what she felt right now. A jolt of lust low in her stomach. We’re two of a kind, Pandora and I. I need it to sink into her stubborn little head.
“I’ll give you a quick tumble, sugar.”
I shove against her, eliciting a moan she can’t hold back. “Nothing fancy. Minimal change in skin color,” I promise.
“Leon, I meant what I said.”
Pandora has never said “no” to me. The only times I haven’t pleasured her is when she’s been too drunk. “Your body doesn’t agree,” I husk against her ear, and she shudders.
“Your body wants me to bury myself in you and make you scream in ecstasy. That sound about right?”
“Shut up,” she hisses.
I flip her up into my arms, preparing to carry her to my bed. The makeup scatters off the sink while I whisper, “Remember how deep I can go in you?”
“Enough, Leon—we’re not doing this,” she almost sobs, and I enjoy—no, love—how turned on she is. I’m confident again. Oh yes, I’ll make her dream about me after.
I’m in the bedroom with a squirming Pandora in my arms when a triple knock on the apartment door interrupts us.
“Pandoooooraa?” sings one bright female voice, which instigates the choir. “Oh, Pandooooraaa!”
Then, a single high-pitched, “Where’s my wifey?”
“Fuck. Me,” I mutter and damn, do I mean it. Those friends of hers just lost the right to drinks on the house tonight.
“Yay!” Pandora squeals, wiggles her delicious ass out of my grasp, and races to the door. She turns the key and lets in the swarm of just-off-the-boat Childhood Village friends. Wow. By the prattling nuisance they present, there could be a dozen, not three of them.
I ease into a standing position, adjusting myself the best I can. Without a glance in my direction, they dig into Pandora’s untouched strawberries and champagne while inspecting every piece of clothing piled high on top of her open suitcase. From the rapid chattering, I catch how Pandora is in urgent need of a skirt. Mica finally scrutinizes me and quips, a tad too late, “Hope we didn’t interrupt anything, Leon.”
“What makes you think that?” I mutter, holding her gaze, and Mica’s blushing is an inadequate payback.
DOMINIC
“Give me a break!” I shout at the bouncer. “How many years have I been coming here, Jason? I must have paid for an entire booth by now.”
“Sorry, Dominic. Boss’ orders.”
“Fuck no—what does Leon have against my money? Let me in or bring the idiot out!”
“Dude.” Palms facing me, Jason lifts meaty shoulders in a single shrug. He lowers a hand to wave in other customers. “Nothing I can do. Leon is busy in the club and has demanded not to be disturbed.”
I’m seething. I’ve waited too long already, and I need to get to Pandora. As soon as I saw her on the back of Leon’s Ducati, I sped over here, but Smother was locked down fortress-style, so I returned once they opened. “I fucking have a membership to this joint!” I yell at him.
“We don’t have memberships—”
“Not literally, dammit! Just let me in, Jason. Or bring me Pandora. She’s in there, right?”
“Leon’s chick?” he asks, eyebrows arching at my request.
“Excuse me: my friend, Pandora,” I specify.
“Yeah, you don’t want that.” When Jason shakes his head, he does it fast and with his mouth slightly open. The effect is some seriously quavering jowls, and if I weren’t angry, I’d be snickering.
“No, believe me—I do.”
“He’s very protective of his girlfriends—he wouldn’t be happy with either of you if she came out here. Sorry, Dominic. No can do.”
I’ve been at the door for a while now. It’s nine p.m. and with my luck, Pandora’s wasted already. “Shit, Jason! Fuck you.”
I stride off down the dark alleyway that hosts the entrance to Smother. From the corner, I call Christian. He’s being a girl, not picking up, so I text him.
Never mind—I’ll buzz Shannon.
My phone rings immediately, and Christian’s on the other side. “What’s up,” he asks.
“What do you think? How’s Pandora?”
“Good. Listen, man—I got to work, all right? Hang out tomorrow?”
Oh, hell no.
“You’re getting me in, dude, or I swear to you—”
“Did Jason tell you?” Christian asks.
“Yeah, what’s the deal? Is Leon afraid I’ll steal Pandora from under his nose or something?” I joke, but Christian doesn’t laugh or answer. “Why are you so damn loyal to the son of a bitch? You know how he gets with women. You should be helping Pandora.” When he still doesn’t reply, I barge on.
“She’s your girlfriend’s best friend, Christian. Shannon called me, asking for my help—how come you don’t fucking care?” I scream the last part out, and Christian wheezes into the phone.
“Dominic! The hell, man? Hold on, I’m going to the office.” He slams a door behind him, and it’s quieter. “Your precious wild child is fine, all right? She’s upstairs with the girls at the moment. They’re drinking and playing dress-up. She wasn’t doing so good yesterday, but she’s okay now.
“As to why I’m loyal to Leon? He treats his staff well. He’s loyal to us. And no one—no one in all of Deepsilver—pays the money he pays. I’m his second-in-command, dude. In one month, I earn what the bartenders at the Blood Bank gross in two. Yeah, so in short, I’m not jeopardizing my livelihood because of a girl he’ll tire of in a couple of weeks. She moves on, and I’m without a job? No. I warned Pandora, but she didn’t listen. At this point, Dominic, my hands are tied. Even Shannon understands that.”
I groan and rub my hand over my face. This can’t be another dead end. I am not waiting until the morning to see her.
I want my year to start right.
For that to happen, I’m fucking giving her a New Year’s kiss tonight.
40. STARS
PANDORA
“You clean up nice, Wifey.” Mica nods, pulling at the stretchy fabric of the miniskirt she helped me pair with black lace pantyhose and my short stiletto boots. I grab a long, silver knitted jacket to drape over the black satin corset top.
“Nice boobs.” Shannon waggles her brows and starts rearranging the hair she just finished for me. It’s lying in studiously unorganized twirls down my back and over my shoulders. Mica dabs on a bit of gold dust at the top of said “nice boobs,” and Destiny clears her throat demonstratively.
“Quit calling me ‘Wifey’ now that you have a real wife,” I tease them both.
A tacit pact stops us from ruining the night by bringing up my parents and my week with Leon, and I love my girls even more. They make me feel normal. No one brushes the subject of my beverage of choice, pure VOSS spring water, either. Like everything else, we’ll discuss my new drinking habits in due time, in the safe haven of our apartment and over gallons of ice cream.
Arriane has outdone herself downstairs. She’s Leon’s favorite bartender besides Christian, and her creative touch has turned the bar into a living rendition of fireworks. The walls are loosely draped in white fabric, and Smother’s stage lighting has been limited to cold blues, pinks, and whites. They dance in slow motion against the waves formed by the textiles. Lava lamps in the same shades are scattered ove
r tables and counters, while a fine string of led lights frame the ceiling.
“Goodness,” Destiny says from the apartment stairs. “That’s crazy.”
Leon meets me before I take the last step down. His smile is happy and relaxed. He’s damn handsome in his semiformal, always-black outfit, and I curse myself for wearing black too. I had no intention of matching him.
Arriane’s gaze flows our way. She bobs out a greeting, and I gesture around the packed-to-the-brim-with-people room to her in a “damn, girl!” sort of gesture.
Her smile grows, and she lowers into a curtsy cut strait from a Victorian-inspired film. I point to the terrace, and she nods, proud.
Leon’s arm goes around my waist and nudges me into his side with the experience of a decade. He surveys the others from over my head, and says, “Ready to party?”
“Yeah!” Mica shouts, and both Destiny and Shannon whoop. What they think about Leon per se isn’t important when they’re bubbly-sparkly on his champagne and he throws it out like a challenge. Of course they’ll plunge in.
I jiggle my bottle of VOSS as Leon ushers my girls ahead of us toward the terrace stairs. Arriane has wound the banister in blue strings of star-shaped lights, and as the music fades from below, the thump of a different song greets us above. Leon’s hands are warm on my waist, and I hate how my skin still puckers at his touch as he guides me through the crowd.
The dark night twinkles with stars, outdoing Arriane’s decorations up here by miles. Christian sneaks out from behind the bar and grabs Shannon’s face in his hands. His eyes smile even as he shuts them in the kiss he sucks her into, and I’m so excited for them. I miss—miss…
Leon tucks my unruly mane behind my ear. He’s careful when he pecks my lips, and politeness might be what keeps me from turning away. I’ve told him, and yet—he’s not listening.
Tomorrow. Tomorrow is another day. Another year. Finally, my New Year’s resolutions will take effect. Every one of them!
“Geez, it’s ten-thirty already?” Mica says, widening her baby blues at Destiny and me.