“That . . . no. What? No way.” I huffed a little laugh that didn’t sound convincing, even to me. “You know me, right? The guy who’s never had a girlfriend for longer than a few months?”
“Yeah, I do know you. And that’s how I can tell what’s going on here.” Greyson flashed a smug grin that I immediately wanted to slap right off his face. The dipshit. “I’ve seen the way you look at her. And Daniella says you’ve been spending a lot of time together.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’ve been gossiping with my roommate? Are you a woman?”
“Shut up and listen. It’s obvious to everyone but you that you have feelings for Lacey.”
“It’s not—”
“Have you even wanted to fuck another woman since you started dating her?”
Giving up, I rubbed my forehead. Grey didn’t need to know how close to the truth he was. I’d been putting off Daniella’s advances for the past couple of weeks now, ever since Lacey had arrived in my life.
Despite what I already shared with Daniella, I couldn’t deny that I needed something more. Something more primitive. The kind of intimacy shared between two willing lovers. No ropes. No toys. Just two bodies fucking wildly. Moving together.
Was it selfish? Probably.
“Okay. Just for the sake of argument, let’s say you’re right. What should I do?”
“Sorry, man. I’m just here to shine a light on your shit. I can’t tell you how to handle it.”
“Well, what would you do?”
Greyson’s smirk slipped. “We’re not talking about me here,” he said, his voice a little icy. Then he quickly joked, “I’d fuck it up like always. But this is you. Whole different ball game.”
“Obviously. But can’t you just—” I stopped, at a loss for words again. I was getting tired of this confusion. “Give me something to go on here?”
“Hmm, I dunno.” Greyson picked up his glass again and took a sip. “I guess the main question is, do you want to get serious with Lacey?”
“But what does ‘serious’ even mean?” I snorted. “I’m not getting married, if that’s what—”
“Did I fucking say that? Christ.” Greyson gave me a look. “There’s plenty of room between ‘no strings attached’ and ‘buried together.’ Maybe you meet her parents. Maybe she moves in with you. Maybe you just set up a standing date every Friday night.” Greyson waved to indicate a wide world of commitment possibilities. “Just pick a step beyond where you are now and try imagining it. Do you like the picture you get? Then walk toward that future.”
I considered it as I polished off my last drops of whiskey. As unhelpful as Greyson’s plan sounded—and as much as I didn’t want to hear it—that idea was still better than anything I’d come up with.
Finally, I sighed. “Okay. I’ll think about it.”
“Glad I could help.” Greyson gave me a satisfied nod. “And you should talk to Daniella later. She’ll probably have an opinion too.”
Oh shit. Daniella . . . and Lacey, at the same time. That hadn’t occurred to me. I knew how to juggle multiple casual partners, but having both a submissive and a steady girlfriend was a totally different matter. That wasn’t something I’d ever counted on. This was all supposed to be in the name of good fun, but once real feelings came into play . . .
Greyson was right. I had to figure out what I wanted before shit got really messy.
I’d always prided myself on my ability to develop multiple contingency plans; it was a damn necessity in my line of work. Yet I had no fucking clue what I was doing with Lacey.
Daniella made sense. I could provide her what she needed without ever risking myself, without ever getting in so deep that my heart could be ripped out. I never wanted to feel that sense of soul-crushing loss ever again.
So the question was . . . play it safe, or take a risk?
Chapter Ten
Nolan
“I’ll get us another drink,” Lacey called from the kitchen. “Whiskey?”
We’d met at West’s for a drink after work, and then drinks turned into dinner, and now we were here, back at her place.
“Sure,” I replied, but something else had caught my attention. She had a record player on a desk in the hall.
I crossed the room and twisted the little knob on the side and soft music rose to life, something soulful and unexpected. A woman’s voice floated over deep notes of bass guitar.
It wasn’t familiar, and wasn’t anything like the music my parents had played at night when they thought I was in bed. I’d sneak down the stairs, sit on the bottom step, and watch them. Mom’s eyes would close as she rested her cheek on Dad’s shoulder, a soft smile playing on her lips. They looked happy. Calm and at peace.
Damn. I felt a little pang in my chest; I missed those tender moments more than I’d care to admit.
Lacey came back, carrying a glass of white wine for herself and a whiskey on the rocks for me.
“Come here.” I offered her my hand. She set the drinks down on the coffee table and placed her palm in mine.