soon. I’m not even tired.” I almost don’t want this night to end. It’s been so nice.
Then, an idea hits me.
“Come on.”
They both look at me skeptically as I slip my shoes on and head for the garage where the keys are kept.
“Where are we going?” she asks, following me to the aircraft parked outside.
I don’t answer her as I open the door for her. She stops with Ellis following behind. There’s a twinkle in her eye and a subtle smirk on his face.
“Is this safe? It’s so dark.”
“You trust me, don’t you?”
Biting her lip, she finally climbs in. Ellis gives her the front seat next to me while he squeezes into the back. This is the four-seater. Not my favorite, but the other one only fits two and I want the three of us to stay together.
After we all get mic’d and buckled, we take off. Neither of them are new to this experience, but I still love to see the look of excitement on their faces, illuminated only by the soft light from the dash. The horizon is already starting to lighten where the sun is about to rise. Flying along the shoreline I put the horizon on Hanna’s side.
She watches out the window as the sun slowly paints the sky orange, chasing out the inky black darkness. Glancing at her, I feel myself falling over again. It feels like Zara all over again…but different. I’m not so desperate anymore. Not so scared this time. I’m sure Hanna and I could work, and we would work well. Everything with her is intense and exciting, and the last time I felt that was with—
My eyes glance back toward his seat. And just like Hanna said that day on the boat, he’s watching me. His dark eyes are gazing my way, and I’m hit with guilt again. Guilt for what we did…or maybe for what I did. How I ended things.
Would Hanna still love me if she knew the truth?
Just then, her hand reaches out and she laces her fingers with mine. I glance back at Ellis again, and he sees her hand in mine.
It makes me angry he’s not more possessive about it. Why isn’t he mad she’s touching me…or that I’m touching her? If it were me, and they were holding hands, I’d want to touch them too. If I can’t tear them apart, then I’d want to be there with them.
And I do want to be with both of them.
I don’t want this week to end.
23
Amsterdam
This girl keeps touching him, and it’s making me crazy. Sitting at one of our favorite pubs downtown, a couple of girls he seemed to know cozied up in the booth with us pretty quickly after he greeted them.
He’s letting her touch him. I can tell, and I think he’s doing it to make me crazy.
It’s working.
I know Ellis. He could dismiss her easily. I’ve seen him do it. But instead of telling her to fuck off, he puts his arm around her and glares at me across the table.
I don’t want to take anyone back to the apartment tonight. I just want him. Like we do every fucking night, I want to let him throw me down on the bed or the couch or the kitchen fucking counter and take all of the pleasure he wants to from my body. Instead, he’s playing with me.
We haven’t had a girl between us in a while. At least a month. And I’m aware that I’m getting dangerously attached to having Ellis to myself. I think he sees it too.
“You seem tense,” he says as we walk back from the pub to his apartment, alone. After the third round of beers, he took pity on me and said goodbye to the girls who both looked pathetically disappointed when he did. I enjoyed that part a little too much.
“You were trying to make me jealous,” I snap back.
He laughs, and I both love and hate his sardonic tone. I hate when he treats me like a kid, but I also crave that attention. “Maybe I like to see you jealous.”
“Well, I don’t like it.”
“Okay,” he replies calmly. “I won’t do it again.” His arm snakes its way around my waist as we walk, and I tense. Ellis and I have not defined whatever the fuck this is, and the only unspoken rule is that it exists solely within the confines of his apartment. We don’t touch each other outside of that space, and we don’t