Page 27 of Fate In Fiction

“Do you want help unpacking?” I offer before digging in to my own meal.

“No, thank you, I don’t have much.” We finish our food in silence, then place our dishes in the sink. “I need to change and head out. A group booked a hike and history tour.”

“That sounds… thrilling.” I attempt to keep enthusiasm in my voice, but fail.

“I’d say it beats sitting in an office, staring at a computer screen.” A playful smirk forms on her face, and I take it she’s not too mad about moving in anymore.

“You’re completely correct. I should head back early. Maybe I’ll get home at a decent hour tonight.” I pick up my suit jacket off the counter, I walk back over to her. “Please, like I said, make yourself feel at home. This suite only sees me for a shower and a few hours of sleeping.”

“The next few months should be easy, then.” Her head cocks to the side as her messy bun flops with it. “We work opposite of each other, so no reason for you fall for my sweet charm.” She’s using her smirk as bait as her eyes narrow.

“Oh, the only one who will be falling is you for me, little darlin’.” I shouldn’t have implied a challenge, but I’m competitive at heart.

A soft giggle sounds through the suite as Josie shrugs, purposely swaying her hips as she heads down the hall. I can handle a few months of her sass and sleeping in the room next to me. Right?

JOSIE

“I should come over.” Stella invites herself over through the speakerphone as I unzip my suitcase. “We can all hang out. I still can’t believe how quickly he changed his taste in women.” Her passive aggressive tone has been one I’ve ignored most of our friendship, and it’s just something I’ve accepted from her over the years. “I’m happy you’re happy, Josie. Just be careful of how fast he’s falling for you.”

“Stella, his CEO job position has matured him,” I explain as I unzip my suitcase. “He’s had time away from the party scene to figure out the type of woman he wants long term.”

“Your father must be pleased. See? I should come over to celebrate you snagging the hottest guy with a huge social media following.” No surprise she’s thinking about how snapping a photo of hanging out with him could benefit her following. “This could do wonders for your singing career.”

“No company today, Stel. I just got home from work and need to unpack.”

She can’t see my eyes, but I roll them at her obscurity anyway. Singing has only been my rebel outlet as of recently, and I don’t want to be known for it. Although, the crowd thrills are a great adrenaline rush. Popping open the Instagram profile of the man I will never follow because, let’s be honest, he doesn’t need to know how I spend my time on social media, I click on one of his many posts from the last summer. Not all his tattoos are showing. His chest tattoo isn’t in the shirtless photo he posted five months ago, so that’s something he’s kept private to the world. What really catches my attention are his toned abs and the sharp V leading into his swim shorts. My eyes scan back up to his chest, heightening my interest in when he got the ink, and what the design looks like. There has to be a moment in the next few months when I’ll see him shirtless.

Why wouldn’t you get ink when you had the opportunity to show it off in posts while you traveled the world?

“Josie.” Stella’s voice brings me back to her. “What are you doing?” Full curiosity rings through the other end of the phone.

“Umm, unpacking and figuring out where I should display my books.” Another lie leaves my lips, and I wonder how much repenting I’ll have to do by the end of this year.

“Fine,” she huffs. “Let me know when we can all hang out.”

“I promise we will soon. I gotta go.”

“Fine. Love you, bitch.” The call ends as I let out a long, shaky breath of nerves.

There is a lingering scent of Emmett through the suite. For him stating I’m safe from not being his type, he’s sure done quite the bit of flirting and touching. Given it’s mostly in public, the thought of his lips meeting mine again has taken up way too much space in my mind. Especially when I catch him staring at mine. Emmett has thrown me so far off balance and makes me obliterate the ladylike standards I was raised on. Which would be great if this relationship was actually real. I reach into my suitcase and feel through the pile of clothing for my silky soft rubber device. How long has it been since I’ve had an orgasm? Or, let a guy even take me on a date? Clearly, too long, since I’m asking.

My stomach flips with unease, wondering if there is a security system through this house. I scan the room for any cameras. I know he has a monitor in his office, which is how he creeped on me taking photos of my books, but would he set them up in here? Being new to moving in, I wouldn’t put it past Emmett to have suspicion over me. I haven’t proven myself completely worthy and trusting as of yet. I tuck the purple vibrating device back into my suitcase, then begin lining up my books on the floating shelf that only hosts a plant.

An hour later, still impressed with how spotless his suite is, the jacuzzi tub calls out my name. This suite might be relatively small, but the bathroom is at least world class. The only thing missing with these cream walls and beige tiles is candles. I dim the lights before sinking lower into the water and turning on the jets. This will definitely be a daily self-care habit of mine. Emmett’s alluring scent floats through the bathroom as my eyes land on the bottle of cologne he keeps on the bathroom counter. I’ve never encountered a man who has smelled as alluring as him. Though he smells divine and has nailed down sex appeal, it’s a good thing I know I’m strong enough to not cross any lines beside light flirting for the fun of it.

The jets move the water around my body, lighting up my skin. A deep breath only drives me more desperate for a release. Prioritizing goals and work over an orgasm has proven to be a terrible choice. Especially with all the spicy books I’ve been reading for my social media account. Reaching for my little suctioning device, I give in and get myself off in the bathtub. Not without saying a silent prayer that there’s no hidden camera to be used as blackmail. I trust Emmett, but you can never be too careful.

I drain the bath water and spend the rest of the evening on the couch, scrolling through my phone. My stalking abilities get the best of me once again. Emmett’s social platforms have been dormant over the past few months. His siblings are in one photo toward the bottom of his page. I zoom in on the photo and observe how strong their family genes are. Sparkling brown eyes will win any heart, and the lush brown hair shines almost as brightly as their charming smiles. Picture flipping perfect. After searching for too long, I give up and figure his siblings don’t have any socials under their known names either.

My phone is pushing ten o’clock, and he still hasn’t returned from the office. Emmett wasn’t lying when he mentioned how work is getting the best of him. No one should be pulling this long of a day for the rest of their life. If we can benefit from anything during the next few months, maybe a better understanding of each other will help. Having him understand who he is and his worth. What a valuable gift to leave him with. Owning a helicopter would be cool, but material possessions will still leave a person feeling empty, no matter how many compliments they receive.

The click of the door jolts me as my phone screen turns black. A long breath fills the suite as my eyes roam from his leather shoes, up to his navy fitted suit with this tie unknotted. His dark, tired eyes meet mine as his hand rubs the scruff on his chin. Neither of us seem to know what to say, but my God, this man looks like he walked off a modeling set instead of doing the actual suit-and-tie work.

“Hey,” he says in a low, scratchy tone. “I see you’ve gotten settled in.” He nods toward my empty dinner dish on the coffee table.

“Yeah.” Gosh, I hope this isn’t always going to be so awkward. “I’m going to head to bed.” Picking up my dish, I walk toward him and into the kitchen.

“I should do the same.” I watch as his lips roll inward. His gaze travels down my oversized sweater, burning through the bareness of my thighs, and finally rests on my knee-high socks. “Cute outfit?” I’m not sure if it’s a question or not.