The next morning, it was a struggle to keep my eyes open, and my body was literally numb.
Not only had Angel done exactly what I’d described—made me his plaything until I was reduced to a shuddering rag doll—but he’d . . . surpassed my expectations. There were times when I’d wondered how couples could stay together forever and never get bored of each other sexually, but he’d shown me just how many cards he had up his sleeve. Specifically, the playing-with-my-butt-while-fucking-me-with-the-dildo card had given me a nearly embarrassingly powerful orgasm that had put me into a coma.
I still wasn’t sure if he’d gotten off again.
And he’d never slid inside of me himself. His self-control was on another level. Now, of course, he was casually making scrambled eggs for everyone and talking sports with Marshawn and Scott as if he hadn’t kept me up all night causing my eyes to roll back in my skull. Meanwhile, I just wanted to nap. With him. Or eat breakfast and then go back to bed and watch TV or nap.
We should have blown off the retreat and just stayed in my apartment all weekend with the AC on.
The thought jolted me, and I turned away. Only twenty-four hours of pretending to be a couple, and my brain was already tricking itself into thinking we could behave this way all the time. It wasn’t just the sex I was sprung on—I’d known we were ridiculously compatible in that regard. It was the way I wanted to show him off to my coworkers—Look, he’s beautiful, smart, and competent!—and how my thoughts kept skewing to this idea that our mini vacation would be much better minus the other people. Even though this was all supposed to be an act.
I tried to turn my attention back to the dumb game everyone in the living room was playing. It was supposed to be a team-building activity to come up with our vision of an amazing working environment, but had turned into everyone lazily discussing the broken facilities at the firm. I could tell by the look on Melanie’s face that she hadn’t intended it to turn into a bitch session, but there was no saving it now.
Somewhere between a complaint about the copy machines and the lack of paper, Dee caught my eye. Her lips spread in a little smirk, but I kept my face neutral. Part of me wanted to be mortified that Kip had probably heard us, but a larger part of me did not care. Everyone was acting normal, except me and Dee being smug as hell. Although I’d planned to be a lot less obvious about how smug I was.
We went through the motions of the next few hours without me being particularly excited about any of them. There were more games, swimming, a break for lunch, and then Scott announced that he and Melanie would be holding one-on-one meetings with us after we ate so we could give them feedback on the firm. Coming on the back of the morning’s first activity, where everyone had lodged complaints, it seemed like a bit much. Then again, maybe they were worried about staff retention. There had been rumblings from a couple of people, me included, about potentially finding a job elsewhere. I just hadn’t known those conversations had reached Scott’s ears.
My bemusement must have been clear, because Angel nudged me.
I stood as Marisol followed Scott and Melanie into the little library first, and gestured Angel to follow me. He got up, and I grabbed his hand, tugging him outside onto the deck.
“I’m going to talk to him about the raise,” I said quickly. “Or is that a bad idea?”
“I think you should do what you think is best.” Angel glanced down at our still-joined hands and squeezed. “You know what you deserve.”
“Fuck. I know.”
I let him go and ran my hands through my hair, stressing over the potential conversation. In all actuality, I knew exactly what to say, and I knew how I wanted to say it. The problem was that employers tended to respond a lot differently to me being direct and speaking my mind than when men did. And I knew if Scott had the wrong response, my mental seesawing over whether I should find another job would weigh more heavily on the side of leaving.
Angel wrapped his arms around me, squeezing me just enough for me to relax against him. He kissed my forehead, one hand rubbing my back. “You got this, nena. These cats wax on about how amazing you are. How you’re a leader, and you know everything about everything.”
I looked up at him, and saw the same pride in his face that I’d felt after watching everyone fawn over him. The satisfaction of everyone knowing that the person you cared for was wonderful and deserving of praise.
Something in me cracked, and the splinters widened when he ran his fingers along the side of my face. I’d known him for so long, and had wanted him for so long, but for the first time, my heart thrummed in my chest, the vibrations spelling out very clearly that I loved him.
Angel’s brow puckered. “What’s wrong?”
I closed my eyes and took a deep shuddering breath. “Angel . . .” He waited quietly, and his hands slid away from my arms. One look at him showed the clouds forming over the brilliance of his smile. He knew me so well that just by my tone, he could predict what I was about to say. “Baby,” I said, trying again.
“Don’t call me that.” The gates had slammed shut, and his affection was gone. I hated how his face hardened, how his eyes went blank. “There’s no need to say anything else, Steph.”
He started away, and I grabbed his wrist. “Please, just listen.”
“Why do I have to listen to you reject me? I know what you’re gonna say.”
“No, you don’t,” I hissed, moving closer until I was crowding him.
“So, you weren’t going to tell me we need to ease up on acting like a couple because you’re worried I’m getting the wrong idea?” Angel raised his eyebrows, making a smart-ass face at my pause. “Yeah, that’s what I thought.”
My chest constricted, but I couldn’t find the words to explain how I felt in a way that wouldn’t hurt him. And the hurt was so clear even as he defaulted to his tough-guy expression—his mouth set hard and that dead-eyed stare. It was such a harsh punishing difference from the way he’d gazed down at me moments ago.
“Can we talk after all of this shit is done for the day?”
He shrugged, already looking past me. “I don’t see what there is to talk about. I’m not gonna screw you up here. I’ll stick to my role in front of everyone else.”
I squeezed my hands into fists. “And when we’re alone?”
Angel’s gaze flicked down to me. “I won’t bother you until you want me to make you come.”
It was a punch straight through my chest, so painful that I had to turn away or else he’d see the wound he’d just inflicted. It wasn’t even the words. It was the fact that he’d said them deliberately to make me feel like shit.
“Go talk to your boss, Stephanie.” His voice came out scratchy and hoarse. “He won’t let you go without a fight.”
My eyes narrowed, and I jerked around as accusations filled my head and my mouth. Was he trying to say Scott wouldn’t let me go, but he would? I couldn’t help but think he wanted me to react to the statement. So I didn’t.
“We’re really fucking shitty at this, Angel,” I said, voice clogging.
“At what?” he demanded, defensive again.
I jerked a hand between us so sharply I nearly hit him. “Everything.”
His cheek clenched. “No, nena. We’re fucking shitty because we both know what we want from each other and won’t let ourselves have it.”
“You don’t understand,” I said. “You never have.”
Angel scoffed. “Believe me, I get it.”
He walked away without saying anything more, and I wanted to scream into the fucking mountains until my voice echoed. The worst part was that I couldn’t chase him. Couldn’t demand he listen, or that he use his goddamn words and speak. Really speak. Stop skittering away when faced directly with this conflict, or bowing out of a fight before it began. But then again, maybe he wasn’t willing to. I wasn’t even sure if I could blame him.
For the next thirty minutes I sat in one of the large arm chairs in the living room and stared outside. We were supposed to be getting ready for a hike, and I was already trying to figure out how to get out of it. The idea of being stuck around everyone for an extended period while having to be “on,” as I was internally screaming, would make me want to dash myself down to the rocks.
To prep for my inevitable plea to not go on the trek, I told Marisol that I wasn’t feeling well, and she didn’t press me too hard. The mood of everyone coming out of their meeting with Scott and Melanie was light, but I couldn’t focus enough to plan what I’d say. My thoughts were scattered, and I was frayed.
All of this had been such a bad idea.
I felt Angel’s eyes on me when I walked into the library to meet with Scott and Melanie, but I ignored him. Maybe that would be how I’d get through the next night and day.
I schooled my face into calm neutrality and joined them at the circle of soft arm chairs and couches in the corner.
“I think it’s great you guys are doing this,” I said. “It feels more valuable than a feedback ticket put in a box on your door.”
“We want you to feel heard,” Melanie said. “It’s important to us that the staff here looks at Berger & DeFrancis as a home.”
I nodded, looking between them. “Why?”
They blinked at me. Scott flushed a bit, obviously not having prepared an answer to something that should seem obvious.
“We value a consistent team,” Melanie said. “And we want to keep the team we have for the long run.”
I nodded slowly, sitting up straighter. “That makes sense.”
Melanie looked at me, waiting, like she knew I had a lot more to say.
“I love working for you both,” I said, surprised at how honest it felt to say. “I love what you do—what we do—and every time one of our doctors gets their H1-B, or the rare time we get an O-1, I feel like I’ve accomplished something. And it feels good to believe I played a part in positively impacting someone’s future.”
A slight smile danced on Scott’s face before he smoothed it away.
“I know that sounds idealistic, but for me to have continued working in a place with such a low glass ceiling, those feelings were important to me.”
Scott frowned. Melanie did not.
“Why do you see it that way?” Scott asked finally, rumbling in his Long Island accent.
“Because despite the praise I do get for my work—which I’ll add is important because other bosses I’ve had never acknowledged their employees . . .” I rolled the words around in my head, “it’s been made clear that my skill and work ethic won’t allow me to advance salary-wise, and that’s a difficult pill to swallow. So while I love the fact that you acknowledge our work, and you organized this trip, and your desire for longevity, I can’t really pay my bills with those things.”
The words fell into the room and were met with a stilted silence. They looked at each other, then Scott said, “Thank you for letting us know.”
For the second time, I wanted to Fucking. Scream.
“I want to work here,” I said. “That wasn’t a subtle hint that I’m looking at other jobs, or a heads-up to start seeking a replacement. You wanted me to share my thoughts, and I did. And actually, I have more.”
“By all means,” Scott drawled.
I didn’t want to turn on him, but his tone was tipping me in that direction. “I can’t help but think that you’d be responding differently if it were Kip in here discussing this. And I trained him.” Inhaling through my nose and then exhaling slowly, I looked them square in the face and word vomited all over them. “I can’t help but wonder sometimes if you don’t consider my salary, or my hard work, as seriously as the people with spouses and families, because you assume a woman my age, who’s single, would be more willing to put up with being underpaid. Maybe you even assume that single women aren’t worth as much investment because we’re less tied down and therefore less predictable because you think we might pick up one day and relocate for some man once we get hitched. It’s partially why I said Angel and I were engaged.”
At last, they responded with real emotion, even if it was nothing more than Scott looking at me sideways, and Melanie doing a double take.
“So, you’re not . . .”
“We’re involved,” I confirmed. “But I exaggerated because the culture in your firm is very geared toward men or married women with families, and I felt like I needed to belong to get ahead. And I want to get ahead here, which is why I made that choice.”
Scott was looking like he’d just swallowed a handful of nails, but understanding had fallen over Melanie’s face like a curtain.
“I’m sorry you felt that way, Stephanie,” she said. “You’d be considered an equal part of the team regardless of your relationship status or orientation.”
It sounded like something straight out of an HR manual, but I knew Melanie. If she hadn’t meant it, she wouldn’t have said it at all. She’d just have denied, denied, denied.
“We’ll be discussing raises as the busy season draws to a close,” Scott put in gruffly. “So don’t start looking for other jobs just yet.”
“Like I said—I’m not.”
A yet hung in the air, but I felt positive about the meeting once I walked out. I let the feeling, and my relief that my thoughts and desires were finally in the open, bolster me. Maybe I’d go on the hike after all.
I packed a tent and a sleeping bag because I intended to spend the night in the campgrounds that ran along the trail instead of at the lodge. I’d already wanted to do it, but the desire had grown over the course of the afternoon. Regrets and bitter thoughts were running riot in my head, and I needed to clear them out. To be away from all the people, Kip and Dee especially, and maybe get some space from Stephanie.
Except, of course, as soon as I planned to do it alone, I began imagining how dope it would be to lay out at night and look at the stars with her. To kiss her under the moonlight. Make love to her with no one around to leer at us the next day, because I was still mindful that these people were her coworkers. It wasn’t us fucking in one bed while T-Bone and Chris slept a few feet away on a cruise ship.
We started out the hike not talking to each other, and attached ourselves to different groups to avoid even walking together. We didn’t go very far or hike for very long, but after a while, the feel of being outside and not forced into a room with a bunch of people eased my nerves. Everything uncluttered, and I replayed my conversation with Stephanie, and thought I’d been an asshole to get so uptight.
It was plain as day to anyone that I adored her, and she’d likely been about to remind me that this was all an act. And you know what? She was right. It was some purely selfish shit to be resentful over my feelings expanding due to all the supposed playacting while hers didn’t. She didn’t owe me anything, and it was stupid to think this retreat would change her mind.
My eyes drew to her as we walked, and the way she was staying off to the side instead of with the rest of her colleagues. She was unreadable, which was normal when Stephanie was in a bad mood. The first time I’d realized she was good at shielding herself that way had been when she’d come to my house for dinner when we were sixteen and had flatly told my mom that her own parents had left, and she didn’t know when or if they were coming back.
My mother had freaked the hell out, and had even offered to let Stephanie stay with us instead of having an “aunt” look after them—a claim that was mad suspect since I’d thought her only functional relatives had moved away. There had been a fragment of a moment where Steph had looked at us in astonishment, and hope, before she’d realized my mother’s invitation had not extended to Victor. The shutters had slammed down on her expression again.
The memory of her shutting down right before my eyes, and me being powerless, clung to me. It also prompted me to catch up with her quick, long-legged strides.
“Hey.”
She glanced at me. “Hi.”
“Can we talk a sec?”
“About what?”
I tried to smile. “How I acted like a dumb fuck?”
Stephanie drew to a stop, letting the rest of the group get farther ahead of us. Only when their voices faded did she turn to me fully, her fingers wrapped around the straps of her book bag.
“Why do you say that?”
“I got mad because you were about to remind me this was just a game, and I shouldn’t have.” I chewed on the inside of my cheek, watching her watch me, and hoping her mask would crack. “And I said some fucked-up shit.”
“Yeah, you did.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “That little comment about how you’ll just stick to making me come or whatever? We don’t have to fuck anymore at all if you’re going to think and say shit like that. Don’t try to imply I’m using you for your glorious cock.”
I cringed and looked away. “I’m sorry. Really. I never meant it that way. I was just being a little bitch.”
“Okay, but that doesn’t answer my question. Do you feel that I’m just using you for dick, and that is hurtful? Because if so, we can one hundred percent go back to being strictly friends.”
“Is that what you want?”
“Angel.” Stephanie grabbed my chin, forcing me to look at her. “Stop trying to act like some prince, always making it about me and my wishes and you pleasing me whether it’s in bed or otherwise. I want to know what you want.”
I sighed slowly, but didn’t pull my face away from her tightening grasp. “Stephanie, sometimes I would rather be single for the rest of my life if it meant I’d still get to touch you even once a month. There has never been anyone for me but you, anyway. Every woman I was ever with knew that. Even in high school.” Her hand dropped. I didn’t look away. “I know that makes me sound like a loser, because it’s been so long and I’m no closer to getting over you.”
She didn’t immediately respond, and I swore softly under my breath.
“This is why I keep my mouth shut. It just turns into me dropping some desperate shit on you, and making you feel all pressured. I don’t mean to do it, but you have to understand, nena, I’ve loved you forever. I know you don’t feel the same way, and I’m not mad about it. Fuck, sometimes I wish I’d fall for someone else just so this could—”
Stephanie grabbed the back of my neck and dragged me into a kiss. I didn’t think twice before slanting my mouth and deepening it. Maybe a day would come when this desperate ache for her would fade, and I wouldn’t rush into trying to satisfy it so constantly, but that wasn’t today. During times like this, I didn’t think I would ever stop needing her. Even after all these years.
“Angel,” she said, pulling away just enough to breathe against my mouth. “I meant what I said that day. Three years ago in August.”
I pulled back farther, searching her face. “We said a lot of things that day.”
“I know. But I said I loved you, and at the time I didn’t mean it romantically, but . . .” She dropped her gaze to the ground between us, hands balling into fists. “I do love you. For the past year, I felt like I couldn’t admit it to myself without feeling like I was betraying my principles. But I do. And that’s me being honest.”
There was an unspoken challenge in her voice, a now it’s your turn to be honest, but I could barely process it. I was too busy struggling with her confession. The idea of her loving me the way I loved her. Of what that could mean but might not mean, because of course my fucked-up brain was immediately cycling things through the gray scale of cynicism.
I took a deep breath, put my hands on her shoulders, and said, “Anything I say right now is going to be over-the-top mush that might scare you off this fucking hike, so . . . how do you feel about camping with me tonight? Just us with no one to witness our conversation but the moon and stars.”
Stephanie’s gaze shot up to me again, and she barked out a laugh. “God, you are ridiculously romantic sometimes. You’ll make some girl really happy someday.”
After only a second of hesitating, I grabbed her hand and started walking again. “Maybe someday it will be you.”