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"Okay. Well you don't know what you're missing then."
I stare at him for a couple of seconds. "I'm not taking the bait, you know? I may be a little bit tipsy—okay, a lot tipsy—but I'm not going to masturbate while you masturbate."
"Okay. I was just saying if that was something you wanted to do, I'd be open to it. But if it's not something you want to do, then we don't have to."
"You're my boss Kingston and remember what you said to me? You didn't want me to get any ideas that?—"
"Hold on a second, Skye. I said I didn't want you to get any ideas in regards to what happened between Lila and Max. I basically said I didn't want you to think that we were going to hook up and then end up in a happily ever after. I mean, mutually masturbating is not even hooking up."
"Okay, well, I'm just saying it seems to me that you're crossing some very gray lines here."
"Well, we haven't technically crossed any," he says.
"I'm tired, Kingston. Let's go to bed."
"Okay. Do you want anything else before we go?"
"No," I say as I head back toward his room, my heart thudding.
I don't know what I'm thinking by inviting him to share the bed with me. It's like I'm playing with fire and I know I'm going to get burned and I don't even care, which sounds about right for me.
I jump up into the bed and pull the sheets down so I can watch as Kingston stares at me.
"You want the left side or the right side?" he asks as I lay there in the middle of the most comfortable mattress I’ve ever laid on before.
"I don't mind." I shrug. "Which side do you normally take?"
"The right," he says, as he gets into the right.
I shift over slightly and he turns onto his side to look at me. "So here we are," he says.
"Here we are." I look back at him.
"You don't seem like you're super tired anymore," he said.
"I don't know. I wasn't really asleep for long, but..." I shrug. "I guess the massage really knocked me out and now I have a little bit of energy again."
"You saying you want another massage?" he asks, reaching over and squeezing my shoulder.
"No, I'm okay."
"I like the way my T-shirt looks on you," he says. "You look like a cool rock heavy metal chick."
"I'm so not a rocker or a heavy metal groupie chick. I am definitely more of a boy band girl."
"I could have guessed that," he says with a smile. "Let me guess. You were totally into Backstreet Boys."
"No, I was into One Direction."
"Ah, okay. I do know their music."
"Have you been to any of their concerts?" I ask.
He bursts out laughing then. "I am a heterosexual man. No, I have not been to a One Direction concert." He laughs. Why? Have you?"
"I always wanted to go to one but my parents would never get me the tickets…you know how it goes."
"I guess so," he says. "Maybe one day you'll be able to go."
