Hold Me (Love The Way Duet 2)

“Suicide. Ella’s mother committed suicide. Do you think there’s a genetic—”

“Ella’s on antidepressants. But more than that … with what’s in that file, I would be surprised if her mother really killed herself.”

My friend shrugs off his jacket, getting off his stool to hang it up by the door. “The court cases mostly focused on Ella, from what I can see. It’s like she was used as a distraction in some ways.”

“To garner sympathy for her mother?”

“No.” He frowns. “Sympathy for her father.”

“That’s … interesting.”

“Everything that’s documented is odd. Half of it doesn’t appear to even appear to be legally relevant.”

My gut churns. “How old was Ella?”

“The trial lasted two years and started when Ella was only seven.”

Damon grabs a mug and gets his own cup of coffee, stirring in some sugar. Then he goes to the fridge and adds milk before coming back and taking his seat. “Cases involving the wealthy are generally pretty calculated.” He tests his coffee, then looks over the mug at me.

“Anyway, I thought I should mention it since you asked me to look into … whether he’d hurt Ella or not, or rather the extent of it.”

“What do you think?”

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

The air turns stale between us as we each drink in silence. Glancing at my phone, I turn on the security app and check to see Ella, still sleeping soundly in bed.

“You’re not supposed to have that anymore.”

I peek up to find Damon tipping his coffee mug toward me.

“Do me a favor, and pretend like you didn’t see.”

He doesn’t respond to that request, although he doesn’t comment on it anymore either. “How are things going between you and Ella?”

Damon did just watch us fuck last night, I contemplate reminding him just to fuck with him. But there’s more to it and we both know that. I don’t know what to tell him. I have feelings for her. Obviously I do. But I’ve also been gentle with her, too much perhaps. I’m aware that she’s still grieving and coping with things that have happened to her as well as how she’s handled them. It’s heavy. With her, it feels easy, but everything surrounding us is troubled.

“She said she’d live with me,” I tell him.

His brow shoots up higher than they did when he first walked in. The surprise is genuine on Damon’s face. “You’re moving in together?”

“Only under the parameters of our current relationship. And we also hadn’t exactly decided one way or another on where we’d live.”

He snorts, almost spilling his coffee in the process. “What are the parameters?” He uses one hand to make air quotes around parameters. “That you’ll just have your power exchange and never ever fall for each other?” There’s an air of sarcasm that coats his guess.

“Something like that.”

“Bullshit. You and Ella, moving in together, and it’s not something more? I don’t buy that for a second, Zander. You’re really going to try to pull one over on me?”

“I’m not pulling anything over on you. That’s all we talked about. We didn’t talk about a romantic relationship. We’re a little too old for boyfriend-girlfriend titles don’t you think?”

As if everything I’ve done with Ella hasn’t felt romantic to the core. Even when I’m punishing her.

“Sure,” Damon says with obvious doubt. “No romantic relationship. Got it.”

I don’t want this conversation with Damon. She isn’t ready. There’s no reason this should even be a conversation.

If I start talking about how I really feel, about how serious this could get, then it’ll be real, and then there will be no turning back.

Ella

Kelly’s thin, arched brow hasn’t budged an inch and it doesn’t escape me that her gaze is firmly fixed on Zander’s ass.

I scold, comically, “You’re shameless.”

Her murmur is just as humorous. “And you’re fucking that hottie?”

My lips pull up as Trish laughs into her glass and the waiter comes by to drop off our appetizers. Ruze has an impeccable variety, from spring rolls and buffalo cauliflower, to steak tartare and caviar.

I’ve always loved this place. It’s laid back, with garage doors that stay open and let the breeze in. If I had to describe the style I’d say it’s botanical boho somehow mixed with a brewery. It’s high end and expensive as fuck to attract and keep the clientele … well, the rich and famous.

“The rumor mills were true then?”

“Kind of sort of, maybe.” I shrug and pop a bite-size crostini with crab into my mouth so I can’t say any more. We talked about heading to his place later this week. It’ll be the first time I’ll see it. He’s unpacked and settled in now and if I’m honest, that makes me nervous.

I’m not sure I want to leave. I’m not sure I want to give up my lifestyle because it’s something he isn’t sure he wants.