The Boyfriend (The Boss 7)

“Sophie...thank you so much,” he said hoarsely, reaching for me, and I lay beside him to snuggle.

I nuzzled my head into the dip of his shoulder. “Please, don’t ever feel like you can’t ask me to do something like that. Any sexual thing we somehow haven’t tried yet. If I’m not into it, I’ll tell you.”

“The same goes for me,” El-Mudad agreed. “You’ve never pushed either of us to try anything we didn’t want to do. We’re all respectful of each other’s boundaries, and I think we’re all capable of being honest with each other.”

Neil’s arm tightened around my back, and he turned to kiss El-Mudad’s forehead. “You’re right. Our honesty is one of my favorite parts of our relationship.”

Yikes. Considering I had yet to talk to him about what had happened with Laurence…

That’s not dishonesty. That’s protecting him from unnecessary stress until we can actually do something about it.

I supposed time would tell if that was just a hollow justification or an actual good deed. Either way, there wasn’t much that could be done about it at the moment.

* * * *

In terms of cuddling, El-Mudad was...forceful. He tended to hang on to the nearest body as though he were afraid of dropping us in his sleep or something. He had a steel grip even when fully unconscious, which was nice and felt protective and amazing with his body curled around my back. The shrill squeaking of his teeth grinding, however, was not as relaxing, and it really impeded my ability to snooze.

I managed to extricate myself and rose from the bed. I waited for my eyes to adjust, but when they didn’t, I had to settle for tiptoeing through the total darkness; after years of living in New York and London and with all of our landscape lighting in Sagaponack, I’d gotten used to artificially illuminated nights. A sliver of light showed under the door, and I made my way unsteadily toward it.

The glass wall was still open, letting in the warm sea breeze and scent of the open ocean. Neil sat in one of the armchairs, a book in his hand and only a single overhead light on. He looked up at my approach. “Did I disturb you?”

I shook my head. “No. El-Mudad is grinding his teeth. And crushing me to death.”

Neil laughed and set his book aside. “Come here.”

I went to him and sank onto his lap sideways, draping my legs over one arm and leaning back on the other.

He combed his fingers through my hair. “Thank you. This is a lovely present.”

“I really hope you do like it. I worked super hard on it, and I spent a lot of extra money to get it done so fast.” Probably more than I would have had to if I’d had a shrewd, savvy person who knew a lot about yachts helping me. But next time, I reasoned, I would know a lot more.

Next time. Like there would be a next time?

“Why that face?” Neil asked quietly. “Was it what happened with Laurence this morning?”

“Was that this morning?” That shocked the hell out of me. “It seems like it was days ago. But no. It’s more...”

“The money?” he finished for me.

I winced. “Am I that obvious?”

“Only to me.” He threaded his fingers through mine and lifted my hand. “I’d thought you had gotten over your discomfort with our wealth. Perhaps this magnificent sea-faring vessel lulled me into a false sense of certainty on that score?”

I sighed and snuggled my face against his shoulder. “I’m never going to get over feeling guilty about the amount of money we have. And I’ve been thinking...I just can’t throw money at things that bother me anymore, you know? I need to...get my hands dirty. I mean, metaphorically. I hope metaphorically. I don’t want actually dirty hands. Maybe I could file paperwork for free or something somewhere.”

He made a thoughtful noise. “If you feel like you need to donate your time to feel complete about all of this, then absolutely, you should do so. And it must be boring for you to sit at home. Even if you do plan to write another book.”

“To be honest, I haven’t totally decided on that,” I admitted. “I know I made it sound like I was all in, but then I tried to actually write, and it was a lot more work than I remembered.”

“I believe that’s something most writers have in common.” He stroked my hair back from my face. “Whatever you decide, you know you have my full support. Unless it’s something that will get you imprisoned for life. Although I can afford excellent lawyers.”

I laughed quietly then gave myself some silence to just listen to his pulse beating beneath my ear.

Finally, he said, “Sophie, please tell me what you and Laurence talked about today. I promise, there won’t be a big reaction on my part.”