Kai Walker? Anything? Have you thought about that? Have you put a clause into the contract regarding that possibility?
The assumption was that we would go at it like rabbits. Ten weeks is a long, long time.
Has he thought about the other possibility?
Day one. We were all so concerned we would catch feelings.
Day two. I’ve got news for them. No one cares.
We’re all intimately familiar with our body parts. We got a taste of the game, and things returned to normal. Whatever their lives were before me. Life before Raven.
Well, it’s almost week four, but who’s counting?
I put another piece of pie into my mouth. I would moan––the food is that good––but I’m afraid I might embarrass myself.
The pie is delicious, the wine is full of flavor, and a bit sweet––the way I like it––the place is fantastic, and the men are completely gone.
Not physically gone.
Maybe this thing between us has no life outside the confinement of a bedroom. Like any dark secret, it must feed on shadows, blurred lines, and the forbidden.
Maybe sex alone can’t make it work.
I roll my eyes. No one can see me, anyway. And I thought things would be difficult. Complicated. I thought I’d walk into this place this evening and wouldn’t be able to hold anyone’s gaze. Wouldn’t be able to face Kai. Or look at Alejandro.
I thought things would be awkward. They are. But not in the way I thought they’d be.
At least we’re good. No feelings so far. Considering the circumstances, I might end up back at the hotel and get a good night’s sleep.
No one is in the mood to… talk. Let alone have fun.
I’m good.
I’m very good. I love my dress. I feel good. Francisco was the great lover that I thought he was. The other two men keep their distance.
It works for me.
I’m sure they just plain ignore me. There’s no hidden plan in swinging their eyes away from me or leaving the table without an explanation.
Where is Kai, by the way?
I shift in my seat discretely, trying to locate him. There. I bring my drink to my lips and take small sips, training my eyes in the distance.
What can be better than spending time with his best friends and me? Well, apparently, gathering his thoughts while staring at the water, with his hands tucked in his pockets.
Alone. Ouch. That stings.
What is he doing?
I wish I could stare a little longer, but I’m now gawking over my shoulder, and it becomes obvious that I’m looking at him.
Luckily, Robert Walker and the two other men standing near our table pay no attention to me.
Alejandro and Francisco slide out of their seats and join the group.
They discuss business from what I can tell from the words carried away by the breeze. One of Robert’s companions, a short man with coarse hair about his age, gives me a curious look.
I spot a solid brass ring on his hand, his stance blaring out his arrogance.