Sweet Venom: Chapter 21

I‘ve never felt more fucking lost in my life than I do now, and that’s saying a lot. I thought I knew Ellis’s heart. I believed him when he said he loved me, and then tonight, when he shared me with Tate, I swear I fucking felt that love deep in my soul. When he kissed my lips right after they had been on another man’s cock, my mouth still filled with his cum, I believed with my whole heart everything that he had told me about what our love could look like and what he wanted for us.

But when I sat on the steps and listened to him tell Sebastian about a night I don’t remember, one I shared with his brother first, I couldn’t help but feel betrayed and used. It had me questioning everything he’s told me and his reasoning. Did he only want to share me because he didn’t think he was enough? Did he believe that I’d choose Sebastian over him if my memories returned?

It’s why I had to get out of that house. I needed space to clear my head and listen to my heart. The irony of me being a runner is not lost on me, but it’s because I don’t want to feel trapped. I spent years of my childhood locked up, unable to come and go as I pleased. I was utterly alone. Now, here I am, seeking that same solitude I longed to escape for so many years.

Sitting here on the cliff’s edge overlooking the ocean, I’m determined to feel everything: hate, love, fear, all of it. Sometimes, growth can only happen through pain. I know that now; it only took a lifetime of running to figure that out.

I’m not sure what was said before I made my way downstairs. All I caught was the tail end of what must have been a reckoning between brothers. I know they had yet to speak before tonight. Ellis hadn’t said much about what Sebastian did at the estate, but I knew he was upset. I just couldn’t place its roots. While I know he didn’t like the marks, that wasn’t the only thing weighing heavy on his mind. Part of me considered it regret, but now I know it was disappointment. He knew Sebastian and I had a connection, and hoped our intimate moment would bring us all together.

Closing my eyes, I let my feet hang over the edge as I try to remember the night I met Sebastian. The day, I’ll never forget; it’s the night that got hazy. I remember going to a club that night. But it hadn’t been in my plans. I had just flown in from St. Louis that morning, and I was staying at Mason’s. I moped around the house for hours, feeling sorry for myself. The overwhelming anxiety I had over the big choices I’d made, and the way I’d let the people who cared for me the least have the most power, was soul-crushing. I had taken a Xanax that morning to help with the boulder I had sitting on my chest, but as the day dragged on, the pill didn’t feel like enough, so I’d popped another.

It wasn’t until that second pill hit that I started to get some relief from the all-consuming hurt that threatened to shatter my already-frozen heart. I went to the kitchen and made a drink, adding only a small splash of vodka to some orange juice. I’m well aware I shouldn’t drink and take medication. Still, after what I’d witnessed the day before, walking into my father’s office to deliver documents forfeiting my inheritance, I didn’t give a fuck. I had zero plans of leaving the house. I was sure I’d be okay. Flipping on the music, I started dancing around the kitchen, feeling relief for the first time while I got out all the ingredients to make a quesadilla. That’s when I got a text from Charlie asking if I wanted to go out.

Before I could even respond, she texted me a pic of the advertisement for a costume party at a club a few blocks over from Mason’s place in Palo Alto. At that point, I was already making bad decisions. What was one more? Plus, if Mason was letting Charlie out, I wouldn’t pass up the opportunity for a girl’s night. I knew that her sudden freedom to go to a club had everything to do with my best friend knowing I needed it. So a decision was made; I was going out.

When we got to the club, the vibe was fucking hot. They didn’t have clubs like that in the mid-west. Techno music was pumping through the speakers. The only lights that didn’t strobe or flash came from the glow of the bar and VIP tables around the club. Aside from that, strobe lights flashed over the sea of people to the beat of the music. It was hypnotic, but the flashing lights quickly messed with my eyes. The last thing I truly remember from there was going to the bar with Charlie to grab a drink and wash down some Ibuprofen to stave off an impending migraine. It wasn’t until the following day that I realized I hadn’t taken any Ibuprofen. Instead, I’d taken more Xanax.

A throat clearing behind me draws me out of my memories, and without turning, I know exactly who is at my back. ‘Go away, Sebastian. I fucking hate you.’

‘No more than I hate you.’ He says, casually without any bite, and something about its delivery strikes a familiar chord as if it’s déjà vu.

Stuffing the feeling down deep the way I always have, too scared to touch it, I scold, ‘You should have told me.’

‘There’s nothing to tell. You either didn’t remember or tried to forget. Either way, it meant nothing.’

‘Whatever. Keep lying to yourself. Just stay the fuck away from me. I’m done playing your games. That’s all this ever was for you. It’s why you’ve always called me a viper. You’ve been taunting me all along.’ I stand up from the cliff and turn to face him before adding, ‘You’re a fucking coward, Sebastian Lykos.’

He reaches me in three long strides, aware that I can’t step back, and says, ‘Don’t flatter yourself. I’m not a coward. You don’t have anything I haven’t already had. Why would I want a spoiled little slut that spreads her legs for anyone who gives her a little bit of attention?’

I slap him hard and say, ‘You’re wrong. I didn’t spread them for just anyone. I spread them for you.’ His words sting because, like most people, if a woman is open with her sexuality and takes what she likes, she’s automatically a whore. It doesn’t matter that I’ve had fewer partners than him, but I’m done with letting men like Sebastian think I’m beneath them.

I move to step around him, but he throws his arm out to stop me, and I have to grasp onto it to keep from losing my balance. ‘Tell me,’ he grits out, clearly annoyed, but he can fuck off. I’m just as pissed, if not more so, than he is. I didn’t ask to be followed out here and berated.

‘Tell you what, Sebastian?’ I ask as I find my balance and release his arm.

‘Tell me how it’s possible you don’t remember that night,’ he demands, his patience waning.

‘I was drugged.’ His eyes narrow, and I can tell he’s questioning the authenticity of those words. I don’t know what happened at the club, how I came across, or what he did or didn’t conclude from our conversation. By the time he came along, Charlie had left. Mason had insisted she bring me home, but I’d told her I was fine and wouldn’t be far behind her. I said I wanted to walk home, and Palo Alto is a good neighborhood, so she didn’t have a good argument against it. It’s why I like Charlie. She doesn’t push me. Not like the asshole men currently occupying space in my life.

‘You’re going to need to give me more, Vipera. I was there. You were fine.’ Was I, though? How fine could I have been that I made such a deeply profound impact on Sebastian Lykos, one that has Ellis saying things like, ‘he loved me first.’

‘Technically, I did it to myself. Either way, it happened all the same. I’m not the spoiled little rich bitch you accuse me of being. That’s just what you’re determined to see—’

He cuts me off, holding up his hand to say, ‘I’m not standing on the side of a cliff with you to listen to you make yourself into some sort of martyr. You think I don’t know you gave your daddy his money back because he didn’t love you? Big fucking deal. Tell me how you were drugged.’

‘Why are you such a dick? You asked me a question, and now you don’t care to hear my response. I’m done,’ I say before attempting to push by him once more.

This time, he grasps both my shoulders and pushes me back so much so that the heels of my feet cannot rest on flat ground. ‘You have a way of twisting my words. I never said I didn’t care. Get to the part I want to know, and maybe I’ll stick around for the rest.’

If looks could kill, he’d be fucking dead. I’m so fucking pissed that I have to will my voice not to crack as my emotions threaten to steal my words. He wanted a martyr; I’ll give him one. What he thinks of me doesn’t matter anymore.

‘I took four Xanax that day, you fucking prick. I have a prescription to help with the PTSD-related panic attacks I get from being locked in my room for days on end as a young child.’

I pause and watch as his eye ticks and his jaw clenches. For a moment, I see regret, but it’s gone faster than I can blink, and I question if it was ever really there at all. Sebastian had no idea what he was doing to me when he locked me in my room for a week. His fingers dig into the sides of my arms, wordlessly prompting me to continue.

‘The strobe lights at the club started to give me a headache. When I reached into my purse for Ibuprofen, I mistakenly took more Xanax. The amount in my system mixed with the alcohol…’ I trail off, shaking my head, ‘I don’t remember anything after Charlie left.’

As I hold his obsidian gaze, searching for some kind of tell, I come up empty. Foolishly, I let my heart hope that Ellis’s words back at that house held some sort of weight. Stupid heart.

‘Let me go, Sebastian. I played your game. I thought some piece of your cold heart wanted me, but all this time, I was only revenge.’

His breathing picks up, and his nostrils flare as if my words are testing his limits, but I couldn’t care less because his actions are testing mine. ‘Go ahead Sebastian. Make your move. You want me gone. Let me go. You’d only be doing me a favor. I spent more hours wishing I didn’t exist than your parents spent tripping drugs. I’m done.’ I wiggle in his grip spurring him on, ‘Go ahead, drop me. I’ve always wanted to know what it feels like to fly.’ He’ll either put me out of my misery or I’ll call his bluff. Both are wins.

Those unfeeling, empty eyes suddenly widen as his hold tightens, and he says, ‘Not all wishes come true. Death is for quitters, the feeble-minded, and the faint of heart. You, vipera, are none of those things. You and I were cut from a different cloth. This right here, right now, is what you crave. Misery loves company, and angels like Ellis can’t follow you to hell, so you don’t get to fly.”

Before I can blink, I’m pulled securely into his arms, his mouth on mine as his tongue demands entrance to my mouth, and I grant it as my heart threatens to beat out of my chest from the adrenaline of being on the brink of falling—and not just off a cliff, but for the broken man holding me. The wind gusts up, whipping through my hair and making my body prickle with the awareness of how close to the edge we still stand. Then, I feel him take a step back with me still tightly wrapped in his arms.

His hand runs up my back until it finds the back of my head. Strong fingers wind through my hair as he twists a handful into his grip before tugging my head back to get a better angle as his tongue explores every inch of my mouth. I don’t remember our first kiss, but I’m sure it’s not this one, because he’s kissing me like he missed me. As he plunders my mouth, I can’t help but think he’s letting go of whatever hate kept him my enemy instead of my love, but no sooner does the thought cross my mind than he pulls back and says, ‘What if I don’t want to share?’

‘Then don’t,’ I breathlessly pant before adding, ‘But you have to make a choice. I can’t keep doing this. It’s not fair.’

Immediately, he releases me and steps back, running his hands through his hair. I know some part of him wants me, and he knows it too, but how much? It’s clear he didn’t like my response, but I don’t need him to like it. I need him to accept it.

For once, he doesn’t give me any words, but instead stares through me with those black orbs once again, void of emotion. The man standing before me is one I’ve never seen. He doesn’t have ‘fuck off’ stamped across his face, and his ordinarily broad shoulders are slumped in defeat. Sebastian is at war. I’m not sure if it’s with himself or me, but I’ll find out another day, because without so much as another word, he turns on his heel and walks away.

It’s been three days since the anniversary party at Sea Cliff, and things have been good, in fact, better than good. They’ve been great. On Sunday, the night after the party Ellis and I had some long overdue deep conversations. We walked the beach and talked about everything that had transpired the night before—well, almost everything. I didn’t get into details about where Sebastian and I stood while talking. I didn’t tell him that his brother basically held me hostage on the side of a cliff, refusing to let me pass until he got his way, but when we got back from our morning walk we found two parachutes in the kitchen with a note on top that read: For when you’re ready to fly.

I could no longer keep those details to myself. Ellis was fucking furious. It’s the reason I didn’t offer specifics to begin with. However, I should have known Sebastian wouldn’t let me hide. He never has. Ellis didn’t believe that Sebastian would drop me, but the fact that he put me at risk made him sick. Once I finally managed to calm him down, I explained how the entire exchange changed me, and while it doesn’t excuse Sebastian’s behavior, it may have lessened whatever blow I’m sure Ellis will serve him. But the way I saw it, I was freed.

I’ve spent years in therapy trying to accomplish what one night of hurtful truths and adrenaline achieved on the edge of a cliff at the hands of a man who’s only ever shown me hate. While I had slowly moved past the traumas of my childhood, I still hadn’t tackled my heart, and it didn’t belong to just one man, but three. I wasn’t scared of Sebastian dropping me. I wished for death countless times in my youth, never brave enough to act on the voices that told me no one would miss me anyway. But on that cliff I felt that if death was my fate, so be it. Death would have been easier than facing the unrequited love that awaited me.

Watching Sebastian walk away from me, all I could feel was regret. Suddenly I felt terrible for forgetting, but the guilt was short-lived when I thought of Ellis. Fate was on my side that night. I wouldn’t have found the keys to my heart if I had met Sebastian first. Those could only have been gifted to me by one selfless man, who saw my heart before I knew it was there. I’ve had a push-and-pull relationship with Sebastian from the start. We’ve loved to hate each other, but what that night made me realize is, what I thought was hate was never really hate at all. It was fear.

I’m no longer letting fear rule my choices. For too long, it’s been the reason I run. It will now be the reason I rise. Do I have feelings for Sebastian Lykos? Yes, and I let him know it. The ball is in his court. I’ve considered the parachutes and overanalyzed the shit out of what they say about where we stand. Sebastian didn’t send one but two. Did that mean if I wanted to jump, he would jump with me? Or was it for Ellis? But more importantly, did it mean he was making a choice? In choosing my life, was he also choosing me? When I attempted to wiggle out of his grip, he told me death wasn’t a choice I got to make, and then he kissed me, stealing all the breath from my lungs only to leave me standing alone with more questions than answers once more. Regardless I’m done being used. Sebastian can take what I have to offer or leave it. I let him and Ellis share me because I wanted it, just like I wanted everything he gave me in the gym, but I won’t let him have it again. Not like that anyway. If he comes back, it’s his turn to give me a truth.

As for Tate, I couldn’t tell you where we stand. The last time I heard from him was the night of the anniversary party. On Monday, I didn’t go into the office. I had to go down to the courthouse to sign a bunch of legal documents for Blush, which took much longer than expected. For some reason, I thought I’d be in and out. Wrong. I spent the entire damn day there. Then on Tuesday my grandmother decided to fly into town. She said we needed to talk. However, no talking was done. Instead, I was her chauffeur and tour guide for the day. Her presence here has caught me off guard.

My grandmother and I don’t have a bad relationship by any means. In fact, while I was young, I thought of her as a savior. She would come and rescue me from my father’s house, but those memories were through a child’s lens. The older I got, the more my discontent with her grew. She knew how my parents treated me and never intervened, at least not in any impactful way. After I turned eighteen, I went away for college, putting as much space between me and my wretched family as possible, and since graduating I’ve maintained that distance. Indie and I do not have the type of relationship that merits her unplanned visit, making it all the more unsettling. When she heard about Blush and the Grand Opening happening in just a few short days, she insisted on staying. I immediately tried to park the car and have whatever tea time it was that she flew all the way to California to have, but all my efforts were thwarted. She’s the last thing I need on my plate right now.

Today, employees are coming in to start training, and I plan on following them around to learn with them. I hired a manager last week who has worked about every position in a gym for the past two decades. She genuinely loves fitness. It is her passion, and it shows. When I asked her why she wanted to work at Blush, she said, ‘I love empowering women and making them feel good. I’ve never been able to work at a gym where that is the sole focus, and I didn’t want to miss the opportunity to be part of something bigger than myself. I believe this gym will change lives, and I want in.’

I am not a crier, but I wanted to cry right then. She understood what I was trying to create here, and I hired her on the spot. I have no doubt that I will learn so much from her. While I may know how I want things to look, I need someone who can help execute my vision, and I trust her to bring it to life and make it shine.

‘Fiori, I sent Hector upstairs to check on the lighting. I am still determining what could have caused the shortage. Everything was checked out during the inspection. However, the lighting in this soffit was grandfathered in.’

Mark and I are both standing under the soffit looking up when suddenly a section of it falls, dropping a ton of pink insulation, dirt, and dust. ‘Don’t open your eyes. Shit, don’t open your eyes.’ Mark says just as I feel hands grab my arm. ‘Arnie? Arnie, fuck, where are you?’ He yells.

‘I’m here, boss.’ I hear Arnie shout out as the heavy sound of boots running across the floor grows near.

‘Guide us to the locker rooms. We need to rinse off. Call Chad ASAP and have him check out that soffit. Clear the fucking gym until he gets here. I need confirmation that’s not asbestos.’

As Arnie guides us down the hall, Mark says, ‘Do not open your eyes until after you’ve stood under the water. That old insulation has microscopic slivers of glass in it. You don’t want that shit in your eyes.’

Arnie stops at the door to the locker room just as I hear, ‘Fuck, what the hell happened?’ ring out behind me. It’s Tate.

‘Part of the soffit came down on top of her. She needs to get in the shower.’

Arnie pulls me forward until Tate says, ‘Yeah, that’s not going to happen. Remove that hand from my girl and go help Mark. I got this.’

‘Tate,’ I hiss out in irritation. I’m fucking covered in skin-irritating particulates, and he’s over here having a pissing contest with Arnie. Not to mention we haven’t discussed us. Sure, he’s told me countless times that he and I were going to happen, but that was before Saturday. That was before he was presented with what I was offering. No sooner has Arnie released my arm than Tate’s hand is on my lower back, guiding me through the doorway to the locker room.

‘Who was in the ceiling? Hector? I’m going to fucking kill him,’ he says as his hands move to my shoulders and he walks me across the room.

‘Don’t move, Vi. Stand right here,’ he instructs as he steps away to turn on the water.

He’s only gone for a second before he’s back at my side, sliding my biker jacket down my arms. Then, reaching for my hips, he says, ‘Sit,’ before guiding me down to the bench, where he unlaces my boots and takes them off.

Once my boots are off, I feel him reach for my shirt to pull it over my head, but I stop him. ‘You have to take my pants off first. I’m wearing a bodysuit.’

I hear him groan hungrily before he commands, ‘Up.’ I do as he says, and his hands immediately find the button on my black jeans, quickly unsnapping them before pulling them down my legs. I reach down to unclasp the buttons on my bodysuit, but he stops my hand and says, ‘No.’ For a second, I think he’s going to have me leave it on, but then he adds, ‘That’s mine to unwrap.’

He taps each one of my legs to have me step out of my pants before slowly letting his hands coast up the backs of my legs. ‘Spread these pretty thighs for me.’ I do as he says without question, dying to have his hands back on my body, but where I thought he’d tease me, he doesn’t. Instead, his fingertips barely touch my now-sensitive flesh before he pulls my top over my head. ‘No bra or panties today? I’d fucking kill Arnie.’

‘I wouldn’t let Arnie get this far,’ I mumble, trying not to move my lips too much. I can feel the dust and particulates already irritating my face, and I don’t want them in my throat.

‘Good,’ he says, smacking my ass before guiding me to the shower. As soon as I reach the water, I tilt my head toward the source, desperate to get the grime off my face. Tate’s hand immediately tips my chin down.

‘Don’t look up. Let the water run down.’ His thumbs gently brush over my eyes and cheeks before making their way into my hair. He feels so good—too good—and I have to open my eyes. I need to see him. My eyes flash open only to find his intently studying me. ‘I didn’t tell you to open your eyes yet.’

‘I needed to see you.’

His hand pushes a strand of hair behind my ear before he asks, ‘And why is that?’

‘Because I missed you.’

His beautiful, diamond eyes sparkle as though I just told him everything he ever wanted to hear before his lips seal over mine and his arms wrap around me, crushing me impossibly close to his chest. His tongue parts my lips, but his kiss isn’t demanding; it’s not rushed. He takes his time, which only gives me hope that he’s still all in. But it’s hope that has me pulling back and pushing him away. After the night I shared with Sebastian on the cliff, hope is no longer enough.

‘I can’t do this, Tate.’

He backs me against the wall, his clothes now soaked through to the bone as he stands under the spray of the shower and says, ‘What is it, exactly, that you’re not doing?’

‘This,’ I gesture between us before adding, ‘I’m not leaving him. The fact that I want you doesn’t change anything in that regard.’

His hands cage me as his body presses against mine, and he says, ‘I know, but I can’t let you go. Believe me, I’ve tried.’ His words squeeze my heart, as I have tried and failed miserably to do the same with him. Tate drops his head to the crook of my neck and gently peppers kisses behind my ear, making my nipples pebble with desire. My hands reach for his hips, and I attempt to remove his shirt. I need to feel his skin on mine, to be with him the way I’ve imagined for months, but he stops my hands and lays his forehead against mine. His eyes are shut tight, and his lips are pinched. It’s then that his stories about Monica and the horrors he endured at her hands come rushing back.

‘Tate, please,’ I whisper before placing a soft, closed-mouth kiss on his lips. ‘Let me replace it.’

His hand flies to the back of my neck, and he kisses me deeply one last time before releasing me, pulling his shirt off, and throwing it to the floor. Chest heaving, muscles clenched tight, I take in the sight before me. His chest is covered in tats, just like I knew it would be, and at first glance, you wouldn’t see anything but the art. The tattoos do a fine job of masking his scars, but they are there all the same. When I think back to the times I saw him at the gym, he always wore loose-fitting gym tanks. They only gave me a peek. You’d never get a long enough view to see these scars, not with the ink.

When I bring my hands to his chest, he flinches, and I instinctively retract my hand, but he quickly pulls it back, covering it with his own, his eyes locked on mine. He’s giving me something. Something that’s not easy for him to share, and I can’t help but wonder if I’m not the first person he’s given this side of himself to since he suffered the abuse at her hands. This raw moment hurts. I feel for the boy who had his life taken from him, and the man he was forced to become. I drop my eyes to his chest and all the tiny cuts and deep wounds that mar his skin.

I pull my hand out of his hold and slowly trace my finger over each one of his scars before kissing it and replacing the pain with love. This beautiful man lost the only family he had, and then suffered in silence at the hands of an abuser to save his sister. I envy his strength and selflessness.

Once I’ve kissed my way down his entire stomach, I drop to my knees in front of him and reach for his belt before finally meeting his eyes once more. His hands find my hair as I unbutton his jeans and pull them down, releasing his thick cock.

I lick my lips, preparing to take him in, but he pulls my hair. ‘We’re not doing that. Those aren’t the lips I want wrapped around my cock. Stand up.’ The moment I’m on my feet, he’s lifting me up and pinning me to the wall, but just as I feel his cock nudge my entrance, he stops and says, ‘If I do this, I’m keeping you. No takebacks.’

‘You know my terms,’ I say as I wrap my hands around the back of his neck.

‘Yeah, I know your terms.’ Without another word, he pushes in deep with one thrust, and my lips part with a gasp. ‘Fuck, you look so damn beautiful taking my cock.’ He pulls back slowly before slamming in hard, stealing the breath from my lungs.

‘I want to see you. Unlock your legs.’ I do as he says, and he slides me up the wall to hook my legs over his forearms. His cock falls out, and I whimper at the loss. ‘Patience, beautiful. I’ve been jacking off to thoughts of this pretty pussy for weeks. I’m getting my fill.’

With my legs hooked over his forearms, I’m more than spread wide. He brings his tip to my entrance once more and only pushes in enough to tease before rubbing it through my lips. ‘My god, Vi. You have no idea what you do to me.’

‘Show me,’ I say right before he spears me with his cock. ‘Oh, fuck.’ I moan out as he hits me deep. There’s a pinch of pain that’s quickly replaced by pleasure as his girth stretches me in the best of ways, and his tip slowly rubs over my g-spot.

He pushes in hard and slow two more times, his eyes locked on where his cock disappears inside of me, wholly entranced before his hooded gaze finds mine, and he says, ‘I’m not going to last. I’ve wanted this for too long.’ His hands grip my ass, and he puts me right where he wants me before pushing in at an unrelenting piston’s pace that has me barreling toward my orgasm. ‘Fuck, baby, choke it.’

‘Knock, Knock, Vivian. Are you good? Do you want me to send Beth in to assist you?’ Mark’s voice rings out through the locker room.

But Tate’s too far gone to care; he doesn’t stop, and fuck, I don’t want him to, but I have to respond. I force what little composure I have into my voice and call out, ‘No, no, I’m coming. I’ll be out in a minute.’

‘Fuck, yeah, you are,’ Tate growls into my ear before adding, ‘All over my cock.’ And just like that, I’m spiraling deliciously over the edge, calling out his name as he holds in deep, finding his own release.

‘You’re mine now, Vivian Fiori.’

‘Fiori, Hector feels absolutely terrible. He got Arnie and another guy to stay and help fix the ceiling this weekend. The hole isn’t all that big, and we got lucky that the insulation didn’t contain asbestos. They’re doing the work without pay on their own time.’

‘Well, he should. The man got spooked by his own shadow and fell through the ceiling.’

Mark scratches the back of his head, and I can tell he’s trying to hold back a smile. ‘You have to admit it’s a little weird that there was a mirror in that space. In fact, the entire existence of that space is strange. We assumed that bump out belonged to whatever business is going up next door.’

I hold up my hand and cut him off. ‘Mark, I get it, but I don’t care to hear excuses. I have a grand opening in two days. I just want it fixed.’

The door to my office opens, and Tate walks in unannounced. I don’t miss how Mark’s eyes slightly narrow at his intrusion, but he’s subtle. I know he and Tate are friends, but I’m sure he has thoughts about what’s going on between us. Mark is well aware of who my boyfriend is, but ever since we fucked in the shower, Tate hasn’t exactly hidden the fact we are something. It doesn’t bother me. I’m not trying to hide what we have, but I suppose I hadn’t put much thought into getting to this point in our relationship.

I clear my throat and rub my forehead, trying to think of what we were discussing right before Tate walked in and stole all my focus like he always does. ‘Beth will be here training employees all weekend. So, she’ll be able to let the guys in.’

‘Oh, I didn’t realize you wouldn’t be here.’ Mark furrows his brow, clearly perplexed.

‘Yes, well,’ I pick a piece of nonexistent lint from my shirt sleeve as I choose my next words. ‘I’ll be in Napa with my boyfriend. Friends and family are coming into town, and I could use a break. As long as that ceiling is fixed, we should be good. Plus, I’ll be back early Sunday to ensure it.’

‘Mark, if you don’t have anything else. I have a few last-minute items to discuss with Vi before I head out.’

I bite my tongue, not loving the way Tate suddenly thinks he can dismiss my contractor in my office at my gym. I let it slide because I know my words caught him by surprise. Tate’s forwardness catches Mark by surprise as well. It’s evident that we are having a lover’s quarrel.

Clearing his throat, Mark says, ‘No, I’m good. That’s all I had.’ He awkwardly casts his eyes down as he reaches for the door and sees himself out.

‘What do you mean, you’re going to Napa?’ Tate questions as soon as he’s out of ear-reach.

I don’t answer that question directly but rather ask another. ‘Where are things going between us, Tate?’

‘What?’ He asks, his voice strained with nerves. ‘I am yours, and you are mine. What more do you need?’

The past few days since we fucked in the shower have been great. We steal kisses and touches when no one is looking, and when he’s had enough and can’t stand going another second without me, I’m pulled into an empty room or thrown over my desk and thoroughly fucked. The novelty of feeling like we are doing something we shouldn’t be, even though we are two grown-ass, consenting adults, has been fun, but it’s time to own our shit.

He throws himself into one of my guest chairs and pushes it back so that it’s balancing on two legs. I stand and walk around the desk in an attempt to calm him. He’s clearly taken my question the wrong way. Propping my ass against the front of my desk, I say, ‘I’m not disputing that I am yours. I’m asking how you saw this all playing out. In two days, you no longer work here. You’ve refused to come home with me, and now you’re mad that I’m doing something without you.’

Pinching the bridge of his nose, he settles the chair back on all four legs, letting me know that my words did offer some peace, though I know they are still heavy. ‘I don’t know, Vi. It’s not that simple. I’m not him. I just need time.’

Those words pierce my heart and have me climbing into his lap and taking his face in my hands to ensure he feels my sincerity when I say, ‘I don’t want you to be him. I want you just the way you are.’ I press a closed-mouth kiss to his lips and say, ‘What if we do drinks with Ellis? You could get to know him. I know you think he’s not a good guy, but it’s because you don’t know him.’

I run my thumbs over his cheeks, searching his face for a yes, just as Ellis walks in. ‘She’s right. Come to dinner tonight.’

My eyes study Ellis from head to toe. This is the second time he’s found me with Tate alone. Sure, he’s aware that we’ve been hooking up, but hearing about it and seeing evidence of it are two totally different things. I don’t know if I’ll ever feel completely comfortable with him catching me with another man. But his wide stance, coupled with the way his hands are casually tucked into the front of his pockets, and the softness in his eyes, reassure me he’s not mad. Nothing has changed.

‘You want my girl. It’s time to meet the family.’

Tate’s hands find my hips as he guides me off his lap and stands, rubbing his jaw in annoyance before saying, ‘Fine, but I have one condition.’ Ellis crosses his arms and raises a brow in question, and I momentarily prepare for some sort of argument to ensue, but then he says, ‘No more calling her your girl. She’s our girl.’