Chapter 6

Easton

"How'd it go with Faye?" Drake asks me when I drop into my chair in my office fifteen minutes later. I'm in a sour mood because I wasn't the one to show her around the club. It took two hours to fucking deal with the drunk-and-disorderly issue downstairs.

I own this club with Drake, and sometimes, we have no choice but to deal with problems, but why the fuck did tonight have to be one of those nights? And why do I care? I should be grateful I was called away. I should also be grateful it was Asher I was able to leave Faye with. He's one of the best.

If I had remained with her all evening, I might have ended up saying or doing something inappropriate. She's not my type, I remind myself, and I'm not interested in a new relationship.

Keep telling yourself that.

"Asher showed her around," I say.

Drake winces. "Sorry about that."

I shrug. "Sorry about what?" I ask, pretending not to care.

Drake lifts both brows and leans back in his chair. "How long have we known each other?"

I chuckle. This is a line both of us have used our entire lives when one of us tries to lie to the other. We used to respond with quips about sharing a womb and even a sac. Or we would go back further and point out that, technically, we were the same egg and the same sperm. We're identical twins, and we share a unique bond that often includes an eerie sensation that we know things we did not say out loud.

I spin my chair to face him head-on. "Look. You can stop hounding me about Faye. I'm well aware of her presence and my unwanted feelings. Yes, she's fucking gorgeous. Yes, I'm attracted to her. But I just got out of a relationship. I don't need a rebound."

He laughs. "It's been three weeks since you called it off. Besides, things between you and Bethany had been going downhill for months. You knew it wasn't right long before you broke up."

"Doesn't mean I'm ready to jump into something new. I need time."

Drake rolls his eyes. "You're going to have to come up with a better excuse than that."

"Sure. I have a long list. Let's start with how green she is. I don't like to train submissives. I've never liked it. That's why I don't do it. I can't even be sure Faye is definitely submissive. She's exploring. Women who are exploring their kinky side are not my type."

Drake leans forward, setting his elbows on his knees. "I saw you with her before we got called downstairs. Every inch of your body was a millimeter from hers. You couldn't have gotten any closer to her without touching her if you'd tried. And Faye? She was trembling from watching that scene. Anyone could have seen that at a glance. She could barely control herself. She's so obviously submissive it's like a flashing neon sign above her head."

I sigh. He's probably right, and he's certainly more objective than me.

"As for your rule about not training submissives, you just might have to break it this time. I don't think you'll be able to turn her over to another Dom. What are you going to do when she comes in next weekend and asks you to set her up with someone? Who are you going to choose? Me? Asher? Perhaps Dane or Isaac?"

I wince. He's right. I lean back farther in my chair and run a hand through my hair. "I don't know. Maybe she just wants to watch."

Drake shakes his head. "You didn't get a chance to talk to Asher before he left, did you?"

"No." I stiffen. "What did he say?"

"He said he thinks she might be a bit of an exhibitionist."

My eyes bug out. "Seriously?" The man did spend more time with her than I did, but…exhibitionism? How could he have deduced that?

Drake nods. "Asher is observant, and he's usually spot on. Apparently, she was repeatedly turned on by scenes that involved exposing the submissive, either partially or completely. It didn't matter what the scene was or the apparatus. She clenched in on herself and held her breath when breasts and pussies were exposed."

I think about his words. I only watched the one scene with her, but that did happen. I wouldn't make the overgeneralization from one scene, but perhaps if I had spent the next two hours with her, I would have come to the same conclusion.

"She seems so innocent," I murmur.

"How innocent can she be? She's what? Thirty-one?"

"Yes, but something tells me she's only had extremely vanilla relationships. I'm betting she's been bored to tears in bed. She probably hasn't had an orgasm with a man."

Drake chuckles. "Well, you can certainly fix that."

I roll my eyes. "Rebounding, remember? And I don't do newbies."

He laughs harder and turns toward the computer just as my phone buzzes in my pocket.

I pull it out and smile to see the incoming text from Faye.

I made it home. Thank you for making me feel welcome. I think my curiosity is satisfied.

I read the text several times. It almost sounds like she's insinuating she doesn't plan to return. I finally text her back.

I'm glad you made it home safely. Will I see you again next weekend?

Seconds tick by. I turn toward my desk, set the phone down upright, and pretend to be engrossed in something on my computer. I can't focus on a damn thing, though. I want a response.

After ten minutes, when I'm about to pull my hair out and contemplate calling her—which is a horrible idea—I finally get another incoming text.

I don't know. It was overwhelming. I'll think about it.

I draw in a deep breath, grateful when Drake stands and leaves the room. I don't want to hash this out with him. I type a response and then stare at it for a long time. Should I send it? I'm probably making a gigantic mistake, but I can't help myself.

Meet me for coffee tomorrow morning. I'll help you work through your experience. I'm worried you don't have anyone to talk to about this topic, and you're going to rely on the internet for answers.

Another eternal length of time passes. I assume Faye is a very careful person, and she's thinking this through thoroughly before she responds. It's after midnight. The club is still open for two more hours, but I suspect Faye is going to conk out soon. I hope she responds before then.

Finally, another text.

I don't drink coffee… But I'll take you up on your offer. You're right. There is no one I would tell about my experience tonight. Also, I'm very bad at reading people and doubly so in text. Are you being kind to me as a concerned club owner? Or is this a date?

I draw in a breath and find myself grinning even though I hate having to answer her. She's forcing me to be in or out. Can I straddle the line?

Can we perhaps not define it? We don't know each other very well. I feel drawn to you both as a concerned club owner and as a man, but I'm cautious about labeling things. Is eleven o'clock okay? There's a coffee shop two blocks from you that has a variety of beverages and amazing pastries.

I hope she isn't jarred by the fact that I know where she lives. I'm staring at the information she filled out earlier this evening. I also hope I'm being pushy enough to convince her to meet me without making her feel like I'm ordering her to.

The Grind. I know the place. I'll be there.

I blow out a long, relieved breath.

Sleep well, Faye. See you in the morning.

I hope I'm not making the most colossal mistake of my life. Faye is not a woman to toy with. She's brilliant and educated and, I suspect, serious. I don't want to hurt her. I have no explanation for why I want to see her again in eleven hours, but I do. The thought of simply waiting for her to consider coming to Edge again next weekend doesn't sit well with me. Perhaps if we spend some time together outside the club, I can either flush her out of my system or solidify my feelings and give up the fight.

Drake is going to have a field day with this.