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“What about the friendship pact?” he asked.
“Friends live together. I lived with your sister.”
“If we do this and you find you’re at all uncomfortable, say the word and I’ll relocate.”
“I’m sure I won’t.”
“If you’re certain.”
I was. More, I was relieved. While I’d been the one to suggest we have a platonic relationship, not seeing Brand on a regular basis would’ve been the worst part of it. After only a couple of days together, I would miss not being with him. Just like I’d missed him when he left New York to move to Italy and then again while he was in prison. “It’s settled,” I said, and he nodded.
10
MICHELANGELO
Iarranged for us to take the red-eye flight from Los Angeles to JFK that evening in order to have time to get settled before our first meeting with Sundance. According to a message I received from Merrigan, Felice aka Flick would also be in the city, answering the question as to whether we’d have to travel to the UK to meet with her. At least initially.
When we walked up to check in and drop our luggage, the agent looked at my ID, then up at me.
“Happy birthday, Mr. Ripa.”
“Many thanks,” I muttered. Other than her, the only person who’d acknowledged the significance of the day was my mum. Honestly, she was the only person I anticipated would. If she ever forgot, it wouldn’t bother me in the slightest. But, like clockwork, I received a text from her at five in the morning, which she swore was the exact time I took my first breath outside of the womb.
Neither Penelope nor I said anything more about it until we were on our way to security and she rested her hand on my arm. “You must think I’m the worst friend ever. I can’t believe I forgot your birthday.”
“I doubt you knew it to begin with. It isn’t something I tend to acknowledge, let alone celebrate.”
“First, of course I knew it. I just didn’t remember. Second, we will be celebrating tomorrow night.”
“Completely unnecessary. Tell you what. We’ll toast with a drink on the plane, and that will be that.”
“With free drinks in first class? Not on your life.”
I wanted to put my arm around her, pull her close, and tell her the only thing I’d wanted for this or any other birthday since I was eighteen was to spend it with her. And that this was the first time my wish had been granted. But if I said those words, I’d also want to kiss her. Since a chaste peck on the cheek wouldn’t suffice, I kept my hands to myself.
“I’ll make dinner.”
I smiled and shook my head. “Again, not necessary.”
“Since you’ll be at the town house with me anyway, you’ll be forced to participate. I’ll even make a cake.”
While I’d willingly agreed—maybe reluctantly was a better word—to this friends edict, it was already proving harder than I’d thought it would be. Now that I knew the feeling of Pen’s naked body pressed against mine, her taste, her scent, and how the color of her nipples changed when I suckled them, it was all I could think about. What I had to ensure, though, was that she had no inkling of my thoughts.
Once on the plane, I was thankful for the immovable barrier between her seat and mine, given on the flight here, we’d put the armrest up and she was able to sleep with her head on my shoulder.
Presently, any touch from her instantly made me hard as stone. Perhaps with time, I’d be able to mitigate my body’s response to hers. Lessen it somewhat. It seemed hardly fair that my excitement was visible. Not that hers was entirely undetectable.
It was easy to sense when she crossed her legs and squeezed her thighs together. That, coupled with the scent of her desire, made her feelings perfectly obvious. To me, anyway. On the other hand, the evidence of my hunger for her was apparent to anyone whose gaze happened to land somewhere around my midsection.
“When are we meeting with Sundance and Flick?” she asked.
“I’m not entirely sure. I said I’d make contact once we land and are settled.”
Curious as to what Penelope was doing on her phone, I leaned over just slightly.
“Hey, no peeking.
“Butterfly, promise me you’re not going to do anything extravagant.”