Sweet Surrendering (Surrender Saga #1)(33)
Author: Chelsea M. Cameron

“I used to watch these when I was a kid. Every Saturday morning. My parents told me I wasn’t allowed, but I kept the volume down and turned it off when they came in the room. I was very stealthy. Or at least I thought I was,” I said as Wile E. Coyote bought yet another anvil from ACME. “You’d think he would stop buying products from ACME. I mean, nearly every one is defective.”

“He should call the Better Business Bureau and report them,” Lucas finally said, rubbing my knee.

I really shouldn’t have let him, because I’d said it was just one night, and it definitely wasn’t night anymore. I should have waited until he was asleep and snuck out.

We finished our pancakes and bacon and coffee and I leaned against his shoulder and he stroked my drying hair.

It felt . . . sweet. And normal. Like this was our life. But it was only temporary. We were vacationing in this space and it was almost time to go back to reality. I knew that, which was why I’d turned my phone off as soon as I’d gotten into the cab with him.

Against my will, and probably against his, we fell asleep together.

The next time I woke up, the sun was hanging low in the sky and the television was still on, but it was playing different cartoons. I moved and that roused Lucas, who blinked his eyes open and smiled when he saw me.

It was almost Sunday night and I’d said it was just going to be one night, but that one night was getting stretched and if I didn’t put my foot down, that one night was never going to end.

Oh, but I didn’t want it to.

I liked him. I really, really liked him.

I’d been kidding myself when I’d thought we could go back to a strictly professional relationship after having sex. Well, maybe we could have after the first time, but now feelings were involved, at least mine were. I didn’t know how he felt about me, and I sure as hell wasn’t going to ask.

“I should go. I have dinner with my parents soon,” I said, peeling myself off his chest. My hair was all over the place because it had dried without the help of a brush or any styling products.

“Okay,” he said, helping me up. I didn’t say anything as I went back to his bedroom and put everything back on but the bustier. I needed another person to get into that thing, and I wasn’t going to ask Lucas, because then that would lead to us starting up again, and I couldn’t. This had to be it.

Why did I feel like I wanted to cry?

I shook my head at myself and folded up the bustier and shoved it in my purse. Then I got dressed the rest of the way and pulled my hair back.

I was not looking forward to going back and getting the third degree from Sloane, but I had to. I had to go.

Lucas wasn’t in the living room when I went back out. Where the hell did he go? I found a note on the counter.

See you tomorrow, Sunshine.

-Lucas Blaine

There were a few other doors in the apartment, and I didn’t know what they were for, and he clearly didn’t want to say good-bye in person, so I took the note and put it in my purse, right next to the bustier.

The apartment was quiet when I got back and another note greeted me, this time from Sloane, saying that she’d gone in to work for a few hours. I sighed and looked around the big empty apartment.

One of the reasons I loved living with Sloane was that I was never alone. Growing up as an only child had been rough; add to that the fact that my parents had a lot of money, and I’d been extremely isolated.

I got dressed in my favorite sweats, the ones I wore when I was sick, put on some music and grabbed one of my favorite books. It was hard to read with Sloane around, because she was always interrupting me, or reading over my shoulder and asking me what the book was about. It kind of killed the enjoyment.

I had only read about fifty pages when my eyes started closing again and I fell asleep with the book on my chest.

“Hey, Rory.” A hand shook my shoulder gently and my eyes opened to find Sloane peering at me.

“Hey,” I said, sitting up and causing the book to fall to the floor. “What time is it?” The apartment was dark. I must have slept for hours.

“It’s six. Are you okay?” I must look really terrible or else Sloane would be on me for details about the date and the sex and the bustier.

“I think so. I mean, I told him it would only be one night and it was only one night. I just needed to get him out of my system.” Sloane set some bags down on the counter and came to sit on the couch with me.

“And did you? Get him out of your system?” Honestly?

“No,” I said, and against my will I started to cry. “I mean, I feel like I’m breaking up with him, which is stupid because we’re not dating. I’ve only known him for a few weeks. I shouldn’t feel this way after a few weeks, and a few sexual encounters.”

“How are you supposed to feel?” Sloane took my feet into her lap and started rubbing them. One of her other talents was great foot massages, but she only gave them in emergencies. I’d had quite a few when I’d broken up with Royce.

“I’m supposed to be able to move on with my life. To see him at work and not feel butterflies whenever he smiles or says my name. To not think about him and want him all the time. I’m better than that.”

“Better than what? You’re attracted to him, he’s attracted to you. That’s not a sin, Rory.”

“It is when you work together.”

We both sighed at the same time.

“I’m f**ked,” I said.

“Yeah, you kinda are. I wish I could help you.”

“You can distract me. Tell me about Fin and Marisol.” Sloane’s eyes lit up.

“Well, I’d say that the chemistry was definitely there. But you know how she is. No kissing on the first date, let alone sleeping with a guy. I mean, I would get her drunk to test it out, but that doesn’t seem like the best idea. But, they did exchange numbers and eye f**k each other for several hours after you left. I think we have a match.”

“Good. Someone deserves to be happy.” Sloane gave me a sympathetic face.

“I’m making you breakup cake.”

“But we weren’t dating.”

“I know, but I think you need it.” Sloane always made a cake when one of us broke up with someone. It wasn’t any particular type of cake, just whichever one was our favorite. She made it in heart-shaped pans, which was more of a sick joke than anything. My favorite cake was German chocolate with coconut frosting.

“It’s too late cuz I already got the ingredients. You sit there and find something trashy to watch and I’ll make us some dinner, okay?” She kissed my forehead and I nodded.