mused, brushing my fingertips to my lips, the ghost of his kiss still there.
“Like what?”
“Like I knew the second his lips touched mine that he was about to ruin me. Ruined. I’m going to be ruined for life.”
“So … you’re not dating?”
“If by dating you mean doing, then yes.”
She gave me a look.
“First of all, Kash doesn’t date. He does. And secondly, I don’t even have an actual bed to sleep in, never mind being stable enough to get into a relationship.”
“Maybe he doesn’t date because he hasn’t found the right girl.”
“Every woman’s excuse to date every player ever.”
“Kash isn’t a player,” she insisted, but before I could ask her to tell me why, she said, “And … I don’t know. I’m curious. Could you ever see yourself with someone like him?”
I blinked, opening my mouth before I realized I didn’t know how to answer. I liked Kash, genuinely and deeply, which I suspected was what’d made our romp so utterly perfect. He made me laugh just as easily as he made me orgasm, which was saying something. Kash made me laugh a lot.
But date in a permanent way? I hadn’t considered it. He was the polar opposite of Brock—happy to be in the background, comfortable in a T-shirt and jeans, deferential and respectful. And for all those reasons, I wanted to say yes.
Of course, I didn’t know him, not really. Not yet. And I wasn’t ready to date, not with Brock barely behind me. Really, he was still in front of me and would be for a little while yet.
And so, rather than commit to either, I said, “I need easy and fun, and Kash has offered his services to the cause. Past that? Well, I can’t even see past that. All I know is that was the most fun I’ve had in ages, and I feel like I just won a beauty pageant.”
“Which is funny because you look like shit.”
I pinched her arm with a laugh. “Hey. Kash said I was beautiful.”
She yelped and rubbed the spot. “Well, he was blinded by the afterglow. You look like a high-class hobo. That’s not Armani, is it?”
I sighed, not wanting to think about how I’d defiled my clothes. Worth it. “Barney’s. Definitely could have been worse.” I brushed a hand down my scuffed-up thigh. “My dry cleaner is going to make his rent on me now that I’m sleeping with a gardener.”
Ivy laughed but watched me—I got the sense to see if I was being snobbish.
“I don’t mind it,” I clarified, “not even a little. There’s something about a man who works with his hands, you know?”
“Oh, I do.”
“I’m so used to these … I don’t know. Soft, mushy men who have never done a hard day’s work in their life. I mean, Brock gets weekly mani-pedis, for God’s sake. How many manicures do you think Kash has gotten?”
“Laney’s given him at least three, I’m sure. Anyway, there’s nothing wrong with guys getting manicures.”
“I’m not saying there is. I’m just saying, Brock doesn’t even have workout calluses. He specifically uses machines that don’t muck up his pretty hands. He sleeps in spa gloves, Ivy. Why didn’t I think that was weird?”
“Because he was rich and ambitious and connected, and that made him seem powerful.”
I shook my head. “Powerful is watching Kash Bennet shovel dirt with no shirt on.”
“Testify.” She held up one hand in praise.
“Kash is masculine in ways Brock could never achieve, not with all the muscle implants and all the money and all the power in the world.”
“And hair plugs. Don’t forget the hair plugs.”
I groaned, flopping back on the bed. “I mean, they looked real.”
“It’s not his fault he got the bald gene,” she said, stretching out beside me.
“Or the small-butt gene.”
“He really did luck out in the jawline gene though.”
“And the smile gene.”
“Orthodontics.”
I chuckled. “But the shape of his mouth was nice. And he was a good kisser.”
“And he loved you once,” she added quietly.
“He did,” I admitted at an equal decibel.
“But he’s a jerk.”
“Such a jerk!” I said on a laugh. “And Kash isn’t a jerk. Kash is goddamn money.”
Ivy chanted, Kash money! over and over, swiping her hand at her palm like she was making it rain invisible Benjamins.
“So money,” I agreed.
“When are you seeing him again?”
“Tomorrow. He’s delivering the flowers for the Cabot wedding, and I’m getting us a room.”
“Aww, no more greenhouse banging? Those are the best.”
“I want to see what he can do with the comfort of a mattress. The back