“Got over it?” she demands, and I let out a strangled sound. I wasn’t going to say that to her, so it sounds much better coming from her lips. “You’re just like your father. He always said that and it”—she moves her hands in front of her chest, searching for the right word, before she finally settles on one—“pissed me off. But I loved him and I love you. I don’t want you to get hurt, Lucy.”
I lay my hand on her knee, wrinkling the soft cotton fabric of her dress. “I promise the big, bad sex toys aren’t going to hurt me.”
She glowers at my phrasing. “It’s not polite to say things like that,” she admonishes, then gets up from the couch and grabs her purse from the armchair. “Will you be home when I return tonight or with that … your boss?”
Ugh, does she have to say it like that? When I promise her I’ll be home for the rest of the evening, she offers me a short nod.
“We’ll talk then,” she says, fishing the keys to her SUV out of her purse. “And you should talk to your boyfriend about visiting your mother.”
I cringe at her assumption that I’m dating Jace. I don’t know what the hell we are, but I know we’re not a couple, even if he does do things to my body and mind and soul that wreck me. Flicking my gaze to the armrest of the couch, I plaster on a smile, trying like hell to pretend it doesn’t bother me that I’m Jace Exley’s fuck buddy. It hadn’t been an issue just a few weeks ago, so there’s no reason why I should be affected by it now.
Except, I am.
Something changed the night I went to his house after Tom’s visit, and that shift is undeniable.
When he approached me earlier today at work to ask if I’ll accompany him to Mr. B’s house in a couple of nights to watch the unveiling of the spinning sex table he worked so hard on, I had held my breath. I had hoped that he would tell me he wanted to take me as his and not as his marketing director with benefits.
Of course, he hadn’t.
Still, I agreed to go, hating the way my heart seemed to rattle inside my chest as I waited for something—anything—more from him, even though we’ve repeatedly agreed there won’t be more. “Jace,” I’d said just before he left my office, and he’d turned to face me, skimming his tattooed fingers through his messy dark hair as he gave me a delicious smile.
“Don’t be nervous about B’s, love. I promise I don’t expect you to participate. All you need to do is praise his genius, and I’ll have you out of there before the good stuff starts.”
“Tell him it’s disrespectful to be dating you without showing his face around here,” Mom admonishes, drawing my thoughts from the upcoming party I’m nervous about and the man I can’t get enough of. Despite the toll our casual relationship status is taking on me.
The fact my mother thinks I’m dating Jace makes it twice as bad.
I start to point out that I haven’t seen much of her new “friend”—she had canceled her plans with him the night we were all supposed to go out for dinner—but I stop myself. This is the first time in days she’s said more than a couple of words that I understand, and I refuse to shatter the moment. Plus, even if I say anything and redirect the conversation to her friend, Mom is still so old-fashioned that she’ll only shrug my words right off.
She’ll bring up Jace again, and I’ll feel that pressure in my chest that comes along with feeling things I said I wouldn’t.
Blinking rapidly, I nod at my mom. “I’ll tell Jace what you said.”
Twenty-Five
Lucy
When I went to the last party at Mr. B's house, I was woefully unprepared. In my defense, I had no idea where Jace was taking me, but I was dressed like I was going to work for the day. I don't make the same mistake this time. Sipping on a cocktail while I lounge on Jamie's pillow-happy bed, I watch as she searches for the perfect outfit in the dresses I brought over.
“I can't believe you're going back to that place.” She drags her hands through her curly hair and lets out a nervous laugh. “Is it horrible to say that I'm jealous?”
I freeze halfway into bringing my drink up to my mouth. “You're jealous I'm going to a party where everybody else is having sex?”
She gives me a sheepish look and shrugs her shoulder. “I mean, I'm not saying I want to join in and rub a bunch of guys off,” she explains, “but I think everyone secretly wants to go to a sex party just to see what all the fuss is about at least once in their life.”
“Who are you and what the hell did you do to my best friend? Next thing I know, you’ll be wanting me to personally introduce you to Mr. B.”
“He’s the suit, right? The one who was in Exley’s office that day I brought Chinese?” When I bob my head, she nibbles on her bottom lip. I can tell she wants to say something—her expression is the same it was when she and Mr. B made eye contact that afternoon. Then, shaking her head, she releases a sigh and turns her focus to the dresses hanging on her closet door. “The closest I've ever come to one is walking in on my sister and two guys when I was in nursing school and Mom and Dad were out of town.”
She glances at me over her shoulder just in time to see me wrinkle my nose. “Thanks for the daily dose of TMI.”
“How do you think I felt? It took me years to get the image of my sister getting daisy-chained out of my head.”
The scary thing is, I know the exact position she’s talking about. Realizing that makes me aware of just how much my perception of sex has changed since I started working at EXtreme in January. Because Bella’s face is the exact same as Jamie’s, I blush when the image pops into my head.
“Yeah, well, thanks for that wonderful picture,” I say dryly and Jamie tells me I’m welcome.
She takes a step back and examines the emerald green sheath dress with narrowed eyes. “Oh, by the way, remember when Jace told us he partied with Bells once? I finally got a chance to ask her about it.” She goes silent for several moments, and I hold my breath as I wait for her to finish. Jace isn’t mine. I know that, even if it’s becoming more and more difficult to keep my emotions at bay. Still, I pray Jamie won’t reveal that he has slept with her sister—my friend.
“You’re killing me, woman.” I give her an impatient look, encouraging her to finish, and an apologetic smile breaks her features.
“She dropped him off at some girl’s place one night after he got too drunk and he passed out in the back of her car. It was like nine years ago, but you know Bella remembers everything.” Though I try to suppress it, the sigh that escapes my lips is loud enough to snap Jamie’s dark gaze in my direction. Her grin widens. “Don’t worry, by the way. I didn’t tell her you’re fucking him.”
I flinch. Glancing away from her, I stare at the cocktail on her nightstand for a long time. “To work with small children,” I start, grabbing my drink and turning it to my lips, “you really do have a filthy way of wording things.”
“The children I work with weigh less than a gallon of milk, so I think I’m safe.” Flicking my hazel eyes on her, I take in the sight of her hands on her hips and her white-gold hoop earrings skimming her shoulders as she shrugs. “How exactly did you want me to word it, Luce? You’re the one who’s claimed all along that you and Exley are nothing but a casual thing.”