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“If they aren’t a fortune, that would be a good idea. I would offer mine and Braxton’s couch, but that wouldn’t be very comfortable for you.”
“No worries. I could crash at Wes and Sloan’s, but I feel like they are still enjoying being newlyweds, and I really don’t want to be subjected to their nightly fucks.” I laugh and know I have to tell Quinn and Sloan what’s going on before they hear it from someone else. I just really want a plan together first because they’ll both try to save the day.
Parker’s words keep running on repeat. Av, there is no rush to find something.
“So where did you stay last night? Is that your plan for tonight, until you figure it out?”
Shit, I knew this was coming.
“Well…you see, Parker insisted on sharing a ride from the airport, so he was with me when?—”
“Shut up! You stayed with Parker?” she practically shouts.
“Damn, woman, tell all of SoHo while you’re at it,” I whisper-shout back at her.
“Details, now…” She points her finger in my direction like it's a threat.
“Nothing to tell. He’s still an asshole, just not a total one. Maybe like 50/50, or I guess I’ll give him 60/40 because he did wake up to my cat on his face.”
“Excuse me?” Olivia’s eyes are bulging out, her eyelashes blinking fast.
Oh… ohhh. I laugh. “Get your mind out of the gutter, Liv. I’m talking about my actual cat, Binx. The cutest little feline you’ll ever meet.”
She bends at the waist laughing, tears coming to her eyes. “I swear I thought…” She laughs harder. “Not going to lie, I was def picturing you sitting on the boss’s face.”
Yet you’ve let me eat your cunt. I must have done something right.
Now I’m thinking about it. Abort. Abort.
“Just go ahead and erase that image from your head. I’m on the complete opposite side of his penthouse and the only man in my bed will be my Binx.”
I just have to keep reminding myself of that.
“Uh huh,” she says, eyeing me suspiciously. “So you’re staying there tonight too?”
I search the shampoo aisle as I respond, “Yeah, he has been gracious enough to let me stay until I get something figured out.”
“Gracious, my ass. More like ulterior motives,” she mumbles under her breath, and I don’t even try to argue that, because then that would require me to fill her in on our last Masqued encounter and the speech he afforded me with at the end of the night.
“Honestly, I think because he was with me last night, he probably feels sorry for me, and it turns out, he is a halfway decent human being with a massive place. He will barely know I’m there.”
“Yeah, okay…let me know how that goes for you,” she teases with an eye roll to sell it.
“Speaking of the boss. I need to kick it into high gear so we can get back to the office.”
Mondays are normally my night that I reserve one of the studios for myself and I am extra thankful for the reprieve tonight. Group dance is always full of laughs and comradery, but after the last twenty-four hours, I’ve been in desperate need of some me-time.
“Calm Down” by Rema and Selena filters through the speakers. I try my best not to think about all things cluttering my brain… My apartment, my living situation, Parker, Logan, Quinn, my parents, my apartment (on repeat), my grandparents…Parker.
Slowly, they dissipate… Except one who isn’t so easily forgotten, no matter how hard I try.
The room has wall-to-wall reflection. Near the glass door entrance, there is a section for viewing that is a one-way mirror, so that the dancers don’t get distracted. As I move from the pole to the floor, my heart stutters. My mind must be playing tricks on me. Parker.
I stop dancing and walk over to peek out the door, only to see the hallway empty, everyone else in the dance class across the hall. I swore I saw Parker’s reflection through the door. The man is constantly invading my thoughts, but the fact I’m conjuring him up while I’m dancing is concerning. I’m sure it was just someone running in late to class.
Shaking off thoughts of him, I go back to my routine, running it through a few more times before losing myself in my freestyle playlist. I dance until the alarm on my phone blares through the speaker, letting me know my allotted time is up.
By the time I walk out of The Dance Hub, the sun is starting to go down. The weather is ideal tonight, not too hot, not too humid. I suppress the giddiness I feel as I walk toward Tribeca on my way to Parker’s penthouse.
