And, because I don’t really know what Vaughn and I are doing, where we’re heading—if anywhere at all—I can’t have my life upended.
We might not be dating, but I figure we’re fuck buddies, and I think we’re exclusive. Well, I hope we’re exclusive. I don’t think he’s seeing anyone else, and the fact that he ends every night in my bed tells me the same.
And I’m glad. More than glad.
I’m happy. Happier than I can ever remember being.
But one thing I do know is, when this thing with Vaughn does come to an end—because all good things end—it’s going to hurt like a bitch.
Because I like him. A lot.
We’re at my hotel tonight. Vaughn is working on his laptop, and I’m watching Romeo + Juliet, the Leonardo DiCaprio version, while working on that wedding dress I’ve been designing for a while now. The skirt has been evading me, but I think I finally have it. I’m going for a pleated chiffon skirt. Simple but elegant.
“I like it,” Vaughn says from over my shoulder.
I cover my drawing with my hand. I didn’t realize he was watching. This is the first time I’ve drawn in front of him.
“Don’t hide it.” He comes to sit beside me, pulling my hand from it. “It’s really good.”
“Thanks,” I say.
“I didn’t know you designed. Why didn’t you tell me?”
I shrug. “It’s not important. It’s just something I like to do.”
“May I?” He gestures to my sketchpad.
I tentatively hand it over to him. He starts looking through my designs.
“These are amazing, Pins. Why don’t you do it professionally?”
“I tried. After I graduated from college. But it’s not an easy industry to get into. So, I took a job temping with an agency, and the first job I got offered was in wardrobe. I’m good with clothes, and I was always a good seamstress—”
“Except for when you’re stabbing innocent guys in the balls.”
I stick my tongue out at him. “Are you ever going to let that go?”
“Probably not.” He chuckles, continuing to look through my designs. “Well, I think you should try again. I’m no fashion expert—”
“No kidding.” I laugh.
He pretends to ignore me and seamlessly carries on, “But I think you should try again. You’ve got real talent. It’d be a tragedy to let it go to waste. I know some people I can put you in touch with.”
“I don’t need any favors.” I sound touchy. I don’t know why.
“Friends help each other.” He frowns.
I want to ask if that is what we are—friends. Is that all we are? Friends who fuck and fall asleep in each other’s arms?
But, of course, I don’t.
“I know. I’m just used to doing things on my own. I want my success to be on my own merit.”
“And it will. But it doesn’t hurt to have someone put you in touch with the people who can help you get there.”
I stare at his face, his expression so earnest, and something inside me ruptures. I feel like I’m bleeding out. I can feel my face heating up.
I swallow, take my sketchpad from him, and close it up. “Sure, that’d be good. Thanks.”
I put my pad down and rest back, watching the TV.
I can feel Vaughn’s eyes on me, but I don’t say anything.
It’s at the part when Romeo and Juliet are getting married, and that cute kid starts to sing “When Doves Cry.”
“I love this song,” I murmur.
“The Prince version or this one?”
I turn my face to him. “I like this one, but nothing beats Prince’s version. I can’t believe he’s gone.”
“I know.” Vaughn sighs. “I was lucky enough to meet him once.”
“Really?” I turn my body to his. “What was he like?”
“Cool. Awesome as fuck. Everything you’d expect him to be. I was at this party of some big music producer, and Prince was there. He and a few other musicians started doing an impromptu jamming session. I got to see him sing live. It was amazing.”
“I can only imagine.”
“It’s one perk of my lifestyle.” He doesn’t sound happy when he says that.
“I’m sure there’s more than one.”
He glances at me, and his eyes stay on mine. “There are a few things. Meeting you was, of course, one.”
“Of course.” I grin.
He picks up his phone and starts playing with it. A few seconds later, Prince’s “When Doves Cry” starts to play.
He mutes the TV and stands up on the bed, holding out a hand to me. “Dance with me?”
“Dance with you?” I stare up at him.
“Yeah. I know how much you love a good twerk.”
“This isn’t really twerking music, West.” I smile.
“Well, maybe I just want to dance with you, so I can use it as an excuse to grope your ass.”
I laugh. “Like you need an excuse.”
“Come on, dance with me, Pins.” He moves his open hand closer to me.
So, I slip mine in and let him pull me to my feet. He brings me close to him and starts to move us on the bed.
I link my arms around his neck. His hands go to my back and then slide lower where he squeezes my ass, grinning at me.
I laugh, shaking my head. “I don’t think you know how to be serious.”
“Hey, I can be serious when I want to be.”
“Like when?”
“Like when I’m licking your pussy and making you come. I’m seriously concentrating then.”
“Okay, I’ll give you that.”
“And when I’m fucking you. I’m serious then.”
“Any examples that don’t involve sex?”
He presses his lips together, giving it some thought. Then, he looks down at me and says, “Nope.”
And I laugh again.
“Whose idea was it to dance on the bed? Because this isn’t fucking easy,” he says.
“I could’ve told you that.”
“Dance on beds often, do you?”
“No, I just have this thing called common sense, and common sense says it wouldn’t be easy to slow dance on a squishy mattress.”
“Harsh, Pins. You’ve hurt my feelings.”
“You have feelings?” I tease.
“You’re an evil woman,” he grumbles. “Good thing you’re hot.”
“Right back at ya, West. You don’t think I’m sleeping with you for your brains, do you? I just want you for your hot body and big cock.”
“I fucking knew it!” He lifts me up before taking me down to the bed, making me squeal.
I wrap my legs around his waist. He lifts his head, staring into my eyes. Then, he kisses me.
He kisses me like he always does. Intensely. Like he’ll die if he doesn’t.
I’ve never been kissed in this way before. And I don’t think I ever will again if it’s not him I’m kissing.
The song moves onto Cigarettes After Sex’s “Nothing’s Gonna Hurt You Baby.”
Vaughn removes my T-shirt and bra, and then he pulls his own shirt off, tossing it to the floor.
He’s straight back to my mouth, kissing me again. His hand goes to the zipper on my jean shorts. He opens them and then shifts, pulling them down my legs and off. My panties go next.
He reaches into his pocket and gets out a condom. Then, he removes his own jeans.
I don’t take my eyes off him once.
Then, he’s suited up and back between my legs.
Eyes on mine, he pushes inside me. No words spoken.
I push my head back into the mattress, my eyes closing.