Page 82 of Pierced

“What else do you remember?” she asks.

“Shit, I don’t know. My memories of her only span probably about six months. Before that I don’t remember anything. Because I was, you know, an infant.”

“Fair.”

“And then, as you’ve already been made aware by my mom, she died. So…” I pause for a moment. I haven’t thought about Michelle in a long time. “I wish I had gotten to know her better, but… ah, well. C’est la vie.”

I take the control of the car back into my hands and turn on the stereo. Que Sera Sera as recorded by Sly and the Family Stone begins playing from my phone through the speakers.

“Well, that’s a coincidence,” I say. And smile.

Feels like she’s relaxing now. I see her legs uncross and slide forward as her ankles hook over one another. She kicks off her shoes. Good. I want her to feel comfortable. I have no interest in torturing her. Got a real ‘been there, done that’ attitude as far as that goes.

“How can you remember all that about your sister?” she asks.

“Whattayou mean?”

“I mean you don’t remember anything. Like, ever.”

“What? That’s not true.”

“Pierce… you couldn’t remember Eden’s name for a month.”

“So?”

“So? She was dating your best friend.”

“Yeah, but he’s my best friend. She isn’t. And I remember his name.”

“So… so, are you saying you only bother to remember things that are important to you, personally?”

I nod. “Yeah. Pretty much. I try to devote as much of my brain power as possible to the things that matter to me, and that doesn’t leave a lot of room for things that don’t.”

“That seems kind of—”

“Hey, what do you care? You’re one of the things that matter to me.”

She gets a coy, sheepish grin. But then she says, “Things?”

“Oh, Jesus, it’s a figure of speech. You’re not a thing. Lighten up.”

“I’m just fucking with you.”

“I know. Me too.” I grin at her and bounce my eyebrows. She giggles. It’s a curious thing to hear her giggle. Giggly is not a quality I ever would’ve assigned to her before, but it seems to fit, somehow. I like it.

This is… surprising. Easy. Unexpectedly so. The little things. The casual conversation. The fact that I put my hand on her back as we left the office and then held her hand in the elevator. All these things seem just about as natural as anything I’ve done in a long time. On the one side, it shouldn’t be a shock. We’ve known each other a long time. But on the other side, we haven’t. And if we’ve learned anything in the last few months, it’s how little we really do know about each other. Hell, if we’ve learned anything in the last few days.

This weekend was just supposed to be… I don’t know what. When I demanded a renegotiation to the wacky contract she dropped on me, I had no idea if this would even come to fruition. I just felt overcome by a need not to lose. Not to give away the farm, as it were. I think maybe I was just swept up in the contract stuff with Derek about the Paris deal.

Ha. I should have let Derek look over the dom/sub paperwork. He’s such a straight shooter. He probably would have said something like, “This part here should put clear limitations on how much spanking she gets to do.”

But this Vail business was intended as a counterattack. A way of showing force. A ploy. A decoy. An empty threat, almost. And now, somehow, it’s turned into an actual date. A bona fide romantic weekend away.

Hell, Eden may have been right. Damn, Andrew may have been right.

I’ve always believed I know who I am.

But in this case, I may not have known what I actually felt. Maybe it took a couple of people who are already in love to see what was going on with me.