eyes.
The sly smile on her raspberry lips.
The proud lift of her chest.
Not just her body.
Her heart. Her mind.
I can't handle how much I want all of her.
But I can handle how much I want to fuck her.
I can give her what she needs there.
I pull out my cell.
Send exactly the text to tease her.
Chapter Thirty-Five
Eve
I sleep in late. Take Addie to brunch. Listen to her swoon over her girlfriend. Isn't Marisol funny? And she's so smart too. I'm pretty sure she knows everything. She introduced me to this amazing new movie. It's all artsy and weird. You would love it.
When we order refills of our drinks—coffee for her, a pot of masala chai for me—she spots a tall guy in a suit. Changes the subject to Ian.
"It's the weekend." She fixes her coffee, making sure to leave half the side of almond milk for me. "Why aren't you with him?"
"Hmm… Maybe I like spending time with my sister? Imagine that." I left his apartment yesterday. It's been less than twenty-four hours.
But I sent him that picture…
And he still hasn't replied.
Or maybe he has. My cell is still charging at my desk. I haven't checked since last night. Addie and I made a no phones policy for our weekend breakfasts a long time ago.
They're usually oatmeal at the kitchen table. Sometimes pancakes or toaster waffles.
This… an actual brunch out. Raspberry chocolate chip pancakes, loose leaf tea, house-made almond milk, someone bringing food to us—
It's a dream.
Or it was. Two weeks ago.
Now…
The world at my fingertips and I'm spending my time thinking about a boy.
That isn't quite true.
I'm here, with my sister. I'm writing in my journal. I'm reading. What's more important than family, self-discovery, literature?
Why does my mind keep going back to Ian?
"You want to be with him. Or at least you want to be on top of him. It's all over your face." She draws a circle around my face with her hand, as if to prove a point. "You look so… needy."
"I do not."
She nods yeah, you do. "Check with your pocket mirror. Trust me. It's a new look for you."
"Horny?"
Her laugh is easy. "More or less."
"I am not."
"Uh-huh."
Okay, that's not exactly true. "I… he… It's really none of your business."
"Okay, Grandma." She holds up her mug to toast. "To your… prudishness."
"I hate you."
"I love you too." She smiles. "It's nice, being the adventurous one for once."
"We're very… I thought we agreed this is TMI?"
She laughs. "The details, sure, but… it just has to be said, Evie. It's clear you're thinking about fucking him right now."
"Maybe. I just… I don't want you to think he's…" Oh my God, why do I care if my sister thinks Ian is a selfish or generous lover? "I am satisfied."
"I hate to pull this card, but I know what a satisfied woman looks like."
"You fuck one woman and you're an expert?"
She sits back, surprised. Speaks softly, "I've been with other women."
Oh. "Who?"
"A few." This time, her expression gets shy. "I thought you knew? There was a girl at the hospital… and two this year. I just… I didn't like it, when we moved fast. So I wanted to move slow with Marisol."
"That's sweet."
"I like her so much."
"She is really smart."
She lets out a dreamy sigh. Takes a long sip. Catches herself drifting into fantasies. "Uh-huh. We're talking about you and Mr. Moneybags."
"Mr. Moneybags?"
"Yeah, I have something called Google. And it's got a lot of zeroes after his net worth. I showed Marisol his picture and she… I got really jealous, actually. She's never gone that gaga over me."
"She's really into you."
"Maybe. But the way he looked at you… I've never seen that before."
My cheeks flush.
"You did have sex? At his apartment."
"Not exactly."
She raises a brow. "You realize who you're talking to?"
"Yeah. We uh… yeah."
"It has been an entire day."
"It feels like a million years." I bite my lip. "I want to go over there right now. And just… touch him. You know? I want my skin against his skin. However, I can get it."
She nods I know. "Why don't you tell him that?"
"I… I left the ball in his court."
"Trust me, Evie, he wants his skin on your skin too… why does that sound like something a serial killer would say?"
It does. It's easy to laugh. Easier than facing how much I want him. "I just want to touch him. And feel him touch me."
"You really like him, huh? In a forever kind of way?"
Maybe. I don't know. It doesn't matter. We have