Total pages in book: 98
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103170 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 516(@200wpm)___ 413(@250wpm)___ 344(@300wpm)
And—
I'm not going to fuck him. I mean, I wouldn't turn it down. But I'm going for this.
To tell him how I feel.
I…
I can do that.
Sienna: Sure.
Less than three hours to find my nerve.
I can totally do that.
Chapter Forty-Nine
Sienna
I can do this.
I can do this.
Oh god, can I do this?
The elevator doors slide open. The gold wallpaper comes into view. The same wallpaper as the one in Cam's room.
The bar isn't trying quite as hard to look expensive, but it's still trying pretty damn hard. It's a lot like Rick's actually. Trying to look classy and distinguished, but not quite hitting the mark.
I smooth my dress, reapply my lipstick, check my text from Cam.
Instructions to meet him on the patio, at one of the private booths.
It's cold tonight. And I'm not wearing a lot of clothes. My I want to look like I belong here and I know you want to fuck me but I'm not pressing the issue gold fit and flare dress isn't the warmest.
Deep breath.
Slow exhale.
I head straight to the balcony. Then I see him and my steps slow.
Cam is sitting in a booth in the back, in his usual suit and tie, strong and confident and in control and still clearly miserable.
He spots me. Nods a hello. Waits.
Okay, he's not getting out to hug me. That's fair. I don't like it, but it's far.
We're over.
So.
Uh.
No problem.
I move past a happy couple in a booth. Two friends sharing a pitcher of something lime green.
An empty booth.
To Cam.
The space is halfway between a chain restaurant booth and the decadent this is a place to fuck, complete with sheer curtains spot where everyone met the night of the bachelorette party.
Where he laid me on the bench seat and ate me out.
Not that I'm imagining it.
That much.
I move into the space, take the seat across from him.
It feels more private inside. More like we're in our own world.
And look, we have our own sheer curtains. "Should I?" My fingers brush the soft fabric.
I want to be alone with him.
I want to see the lights of the city.
I want this to make sense.
He shakes his head. "The server is coming back."
"Oh."
"Do you want something to eat?"
No. I was starving when I finished practice, but the second I sent the text, my stomach went topsy-turvy. I'm not sure I'll keep anything down. "I'm too nervous."
"Did you have dinner?"
I shake my head.
His eyes go to the half-finished bottle of wine on the table. To his full glass.
He's been drinking. He's nervous too.
"I'll order something sweet," he says.
"Not too sweet."
"That's a category for you?"
"It's just… something plain would be easier on my stomach."
He nods one minute, slides out of the booth, heads inside to the bar.
So he isn't waiting for the server. He's just… something.
There are already glasses of water here too. I take one, drink half of it, fix my lipstick again.
Something to distract me from the wait.
But it's not enough. I slip out of the booth, find the bathroom, try a pep talk in the mirror.
I can do this.
I can do this.
I lost once today. I'm not losing again.
There.
More lipstick. Maybe it helps. Probably not.
I meet him at the booth.
He's already in his seat. And there's already food here. A pretzel appetizer.
"It's not a hot dog, but…" He motions to the small tray of mustard.
It smells amazing, like bread and salt. My appetite returns full force. I grab a piece, dip it in mustard, take a big bite.
Mmm, it's honey mustard. Sweet and a little spicy and so many carbs.
My stomach feels better immediately.
"Can I have some of that wine?" I ask.
"If you eat more."
"Kind of bossy."
"You're the one asking me to commit a misdemeanor."
I guess that's fair. "Like you'd get caught."
"Even so."
I nod fine and sit at the booth.
He waits for me to eat another wedge of pretzel, then he pours a glass of wine. "It's dry."
Right. He likes those deep, full-bodied reds. They're complex. I guess that's what you say, but they're not sweet.
I take a long sip. Just barely stop my lips from puckering.
He laughs. "I can order something else."
"No. That's okay." I drink half the glass in three sips.
Again, he chuckles. "That was a hundred-dollar glass."
"And I enjoyed it." I finish the rest. "Well, now, I enjoyed it."
He doesn't offer to pour me another. Already, I want the loss of inhibitions, but it's better to do this lucid.
"I, uh, I guess I'll just say it." I take a deep breath and push out a slow exhale. "I… I, uh, I really like you, Cam. A lot. Maybe more, I'm not sure. I've never loved anyone before."
His eyes glue to me.
"I know we made this agreement. It's what makes sense. That's what I've been telling myself. That I can't mess up things between you and Ty."
"It wouldn't be your fault, Sienna."