“What about Jagger?”

  “He’ll come visit me when he can, or I’ll go there whenever possible. Or we’ll meet midway.”

  “Have you talked to him?”

  I slowly shake my head.

  “It’s not his decision,” I say, softly. “He hasn’t done anything wrong, and I hope he’ll understand that I owe this to myself. That’s the thing I wanted the most when I got out of my marriage, and that’s precisely what I forgot about when I got swept away, tormented by my feelings for him. I said I didn’t want a conventional relationship and it was fine by him, but in these last few months I have found myself in one. I was home waiting for him. Sure, I could’ve traveled with him, but that’s not what I wanted. I want my life as much as he wants his.”

  She studies my eyes.

  “Well, you know better,” she says, disappointment threading through her voice. “Do you have a place to live?”

  “I’ll find something,” I say.

  “You can stay at my place. It’s empty anyway, and you don’t have to lock yourself in a long-term lease.

  “Violet?!”

  The man’s voice drops in the middle of the table, making us flick our eyes in his direction. It sounds familiar, but I can’t place it for a moment. I tip my head up to the well-dressed man who stands next to our table.

  “Mr. Parker?!”

  Liv shifts her gaze to Jagger’s dad, her eyes brimming with curiosity.

  I make the introductions, my eyes darting back and forth as I expect any moment to catch sight of his wife.

  Smiling, he registers the direction of my gaze and looks away just as my dear old friend Anja, exits the ladies room. He cuts his eyes back to me.

  “How’s Jagger?” he asks somewhat rushed as if he wants to finish the conversation before his lady friend joins him.

  “Good.”

  “Braxton?” he asks, grinning mysteriously, and I’m about to vaporize as a blush rolls on my face.

  I dip my gaze to Liv, trying to figure out if she’s caught the nuance.

  She looks at us seemingly unaware.

  “He’s good, too,” I say, and his eyes narrow with another smile.

  “Take good care of them,” he says, his hand resting on my shoulder for a moment.

  I never thought I’d be so happy seeing Anja strutting to us. She flashes a charming smile as he curls his arm around her waist.

  “Violet. What a pleasant surprise,” she chirps. “David told me you live in Spain now with Braxton and Jagger.”

  My face burns so hard, I’m surprised my skin doesn’t fall off my bones. Did she just say that? I wish I could turn my head to Liv, gauge her reaction, but my neck is stiff as a piece of marble. Being the fine observer that he is, David grasps my turmoil and swiftly says goodbye to us, pulling Anja away.

  “Wow,” Liv mutters.

  “That’s not Jagger’s mom,” she says, stating the obvious.

  I really need a moment... or a drink.

  “No, no. Of course, not.”

  “But the man is his father, isn’t it?”

  “Yes, he is.”

  “So, who is she?”

  I roll my eyes suggestively.

  She lets out a soft chuckle.

  “Oh, okay...”

  “It’s a long story. Her ex-husband used to do business with him,” I say.

  “And now, she does...” she says, amused.

  “Something like that.”

  “And who’s Braxton?” she asks.

  “His best friend. It’s not... We’re not living together. The place we live in is Braxton’s house, but he’s in London at school,” I say rushed, keen to clarify. “So anyway... I’m interested,” I mumble, switching to a different topic. “In both. Doing consulting work for Rapt, and using your place. Let me know when I can move,” I say, and her smile vanishes from her face.

  9

  JAGGER

  IBIZA, Spain

  Cold air sneaks into the room as a door opens and closes, unsettling the fire. My eyes stay rooted on the shadows dancing on the wall as I wait for him to get in the bed.

  He lifts up the cover and slides in next to me, the scent of mint and aftershave rolling over me.

  “It’s dark outside. What time is it?” I mutter, sprawled on my stomach, my face turned away from him.

  “It’s almost ten. It’s cloudy.”

  “What time do you have to leave?”

  “In a couple of hours.”

  “I’m gonna miss you,” I say, my eyes glued to the trembling shadows.

  He pulls close to me, his leg brushing the back of my thigh, his palm sliding down my back.

  “I’m gonna miss you too,” he murmurs in the back of my hair, his lips touching me.

  He starts kissing my neck, his palm sliding down my body, his knee slipping between my thighs. I open my legs, hard underneath.

  “You love it...” he says, his hard cock pressing against my hip.

  “So do you,” I say, smiling.

  He slides his hand between my legs, massaging my balls and the root of my erection. I roll my hips. Quietly, he growls.

  “You’re killing me,” he says.

  He pulls his hand away from me and then I hear the sound of the drawer opening, and moments later, I feel his fingers wet with lube between my butt cheeks.

  “One last time. Who knows when I’m gonna see you again,” he says laughing softly.

  “Go fuck yourself!” I mutter, jokingly.

  His cold, slippery finger enters me. He moves slowly, his lips trailing my neck, his knees opening my legs again.

  He starts rolling his hips, grinding his erection against me. I’m getting a hammer between my legs.

  “I’m gonna drill a hole into the mattress,” I say, and he slides his finger deeper, massaging me, the build-up making my body tense.

  I move against his hand.

  “How does it feel?” he murmurs in my ear.

  I flick my head to him, and his eyes sparkle in the dim light, brimming with lust. He keeps thrusting his finger into me, and I begin to lose focus, my eyes locked with his.

  “This feels so fucking good,” I say, and then I feel the bead of pre-cum on my skin.

  “For you, too...” I say, and his eyes narrow with a smile.

  He tilts his head down, and slips his tongue between my lips, so hungry for me, turning me on so badly.

  Out of breath, he breaks the kiss, and hovering over my back, he lodges himself between my legs, presses the head of his cock against me, and slowly eases himself in.

  A grunt explodes in his chest. He stills, hard and pulsing, half way in, and I clench my butt.

  He leans on me, his hand going in my hair, his teeth grazing my shoulder.

  “I love to fuck you,” he murmurs as he waves his body, driving his dick in and out of me.

  I’m hard like stone, a wave of pleasure rising. He starts kissing my neck, his teeth scraping my corded muscles, and I jerk under him.

  His hand curls around my neck as he shoves his cock into me, gradually increasing the pace, his groans growing louder behind me.

  The sheet crumples in my fists.

  We both grunt, hitting that high at the same time, blasting our loads. A puddle forms beneath me, his own release wet between my legs.

  He rolls off me and sprawls on his back, his chest heaving, his eyes filled with pleasure and unexpected sadness.

  “What is it?”

  “This cannot end well,” he says quietly.

  “What are you talking about?” I ask, suddenly tense.

  “I don’t know. It’s just a feeling.”

  “It’s because you have to leave?”

  “Yes. That’s one thing.”

  “You’ll be back.”

  He smiles bitterly.

  “Maybe.”

  I jerk up to my elbows.

  “There’s no fucking maybe, Braxton. Don’t fucking do that to me, man.”

  “It’s not up to me,” he says.

  “You’ll be back,” I say firmly.

  “We’ll see.”

  I grab his neck.

  “It’s not optional, Braxton.”

  He grins.

  “Listen... All I want is you, Jagger,” he says.

  I look at him, baffled.

  “What do you mean me?”

  He avoids my eyes.

  “Braxton? What the hell do you mean? You mean no Violet?”

  He shakes his head, still not looking at me.

  “I didn’t say that.”

  “Then what the fuck are you saying?”

  He tips his face to me. His eyes are cloudy and misty like the weather outside.

  “She’s your woman, Jagger, and sooner or later she’ll ask you to act like her man.”

  I pull away from him, and he grabs my arm.

  I push him, and he pins me down with his weight.

  “Don’t play this game with me, Braxton!” I growl through my teeth, trying to push him off me. “You know how much I hate it. I loathe it when she does it but not as much as when you do it. You have no fucking excuse. You know me, and I know you, and we’ve never played this push and pull. If we fuck, it’s not so you can pull away from me.”

  “I’m not pulling away, Jagger.”

  “You already have, once, and now all you talk is about Violet. This is not what we planned. Remember?”

  He presses his chest against me, his eyes washed with light. He smiles, his grin so sad it rips my heart apart.

  “When we planned that, you weren’t falling for me so hard,” he says, and my fist swings to him faster than I can draw a breath.

  It hits his shoulder, and his body rolls completely off me. I dart off the bed and pace to the bathroom. He comes after me, his fist thudding against the door.

  “Go the fuck away, Braxton. I don’t need to hear your crap.”

  He gives up after a few minutes, and I hear the door of the second bathroom closing, and then I dash out, storm into the closet, throw a pair of jeans and a T-shirt on me, and run out the door.

  JAGGER

  Ibiza Spain

  I wish he were wrong, but I am falling for him. Badly. As bad as he did for me. And it’s not only the sex, although it’s fucking great. It’s also this bond we’ve always had.

  I was fond of him since I can remember. As we grew up the fondness for each other turned into fascination and then into sheer attraction, and that was a mix hard to fight or ignore.

  He was my friend when we were little, and then he was my buddy, and then he was my fuck buddy, and that’s when things took a turn and entered a different realm.

  We know each other, and we trust each other. And it’s like sharing a heart. Growing feelings on that soil is powerful and inescapable.

  I love everything about him, and I know he feels the same way about me, and it’s the trust and comfort with each other that makes our bond so strong.

  Despite what he just said to me, I never thought that falling for him would be a problem. I never thought that giving him what he’d been craving for so long would make him pull away from me, for fear of crushing Violet or me.

  I pay for my lunch and linger on the terrace, absently sweeping my phone with my thumb.

  He must be on his plane by now, and Violet must’ve landed in Barcelona. A few more hours, and she’ll be here. I call her and leave her a message, and then I look at the sea.

  The weather cleared out nicely. In the end, it turned out to be a beautiful day as if he’s dragged the gray clouds away with him when he left for England.

  I slide my finger on my phone screen and pull up pictures of him. Snapshots I took this week. A couple of shots have captured his eyes.

  I zoom in and search those sapphire irises. Narrowed, and drinking me in, his eyes have a soft, nostalgic smile sleeping in them.

  I stare at him, feeling him close to me. Warm and tender, playful and brimming with feelings for me. I run my finger over his picture.

  The man I love.

  The phone rings, and Violet’s name flashes on the screen, my mood instantly shifting.

  “Hey, baby. Where are you?” I ask.

  Grinning, I push out of the chair, and stroll toward the beach.

  There’s silence at the other end, and I look at the screen, not sure if I’m still connected to her.

  “Violet?”

  I hear a noise at the other end and then her voice, the moment she opens her mouth and speaks, a guillotine of panic falls on me.

  “Hi,” she says with so much delay and so much coldness, it feels as if the sun slipped behind the clouds.

  “What happened?” I murmur, a shiver going down my back. “Where are you?” I ask again, dreading the answer.

  “I’m in New York,” she says, and stops as if she wants me to draw my own conclusion before she says the actual words.

  “Why?” I ask, knowing exactly why.

  “I’m not coming back Jagger,” she says slowly, the words barely pulling out of her mouth.

  “What do you mean you’re not coming back?” I ask, my heart screaming in my chest.

  “I need some time. By myself...” she says, and her words cut through me like shards of glass.

  “Okay. Is it something that I’ve done?”

  “No. It doesn’t have anything to do with you,” she says, and a weight falls on my chest.

  It’s worse than I thought.

  “What are you saying?”

  “I need some time to figure out my life. I should’ve done this a long time ago.”

  “If it’s the fact that you have to live here with me, I can move back to the States,” I say, hating myself for not being able to rein in my panic.

  “No. I don’t want you to come here,” she says, and her words sound like a life sentence.

  My chest tightens, my lips starting to tremble.

  “Are you sure?” I ask with a strained voice.

  “Yes, I’m sure.”

  “Is this the end, Violet?”

  She pauses, and I almost taste my tears on my lips.

  “I have no idea, Jagger... I really don’t know,” she says, and it’s the first time I hear a sliver of emotion in her voice, and it makes everything worse because it gives me hope.

  “Okay then... I guess we’ll talk,” I say.

  “Yes, we will,” she says softly and ends the call.

  My hand goes to my face, hiding my tears.

  10

  VIOLET, New York

  “Elan, this is Violet, our newest consultant,” Jonas says, and the man stretches his hand out to me.

  “Nice to meet you,” he says.

  “Elan is a friend and also a potential buyer,” Jonas adds, and the man flashes a smile.

  Somewhere in his mid-thirties, Elan has short hair, dark eyes, sharp features and a body that fills his suit tightly, the kind of frame maintained with an intense regimen in the gym.

  A bulky ring graces his finger, a grin clinging to his lips.

  He shifts his eyes away from me, and for the next forty minutes or so we go over Rapt’s stats and projected revenue.

  By the end of the second hour, the two men engage in a conversation regarding the financials while Liv, and I, review the website traffic numbers.

  I swing my gaze to the window as Liv checks the time. It’s already dark outside.

  “All right then,” Jonas says, concluding his conversation with Elan and turning to us. “What about dinner?”

  He looks in my direction, and I’m pretty sure he means Elan and me in addition to Liv.

  “Violet?”

  “Sure.”

  “Elan. Do you have other plans?”

  “No. I can come.”

  Jonas pulls his phone out and makes a reservation.

  One hour later, we sit around a table in a Greek restaurant on Eastside. We finish dinner, and a half hour later, we enter a bar downtown. Elan and Jonas step outside to smoke, while Liv and I sip on our drinks.

  “So that’s your life...” I say.

  She looks at me, somewhat guarded.

  “Pretty much.”

  From her voice, I glean it’s not bad, but doesn’t sound great either.

  “Have you met his family?” I ask.

  “His mom. She’s a lovely lady.”

  “What does your mom say?”

  She tips her head to the side and gives me a smile.

  “She loves him.”

  “What’s not to love about him?”

  “There’s nothing indeed,” she says, and I notice a hint of disappointment in her voice.

  “What’s the problem, Liv? He really seems like a nice guy.”

  “He is. That’s the problem.”

  “Since when is that a problem?”

  She leans close to me.

  “There’s nothing wrong with him. It’s just that there are no sparks between us. No butterflies, no sinking feeling in my stomach, no fluttering in my chest,” she says, and sadness hovers over me.

  That’s how I used to be with Brad.

  I lean back in my chair and empty my glass in one gulp, hoping that the alcohol will kill the bad feeling crawling up on me.

  “Why did you do it, Violet?” she asks, and my heart flips in my chest. “Why did you pull away from Jagger and his friend?”

  A wave of blood comes to my face.

  “It’s because you really missed this?” she asks and points around us. “Or New York? Your old work place?”

  “No, no... It’s not that.”

  “You fell in love with him,” she says, her eyes glistening with emotion.

  “I still love him,” I say, my chest tight, my chin quivering. “But it takes more than that.”

  She looks down at her glass and smiles bitterly.

  “You know... You do realize we are caught in a life riddle. I have a man like Jonas and everything that comes with him. And you have a man like Jagger, and whatever comes with him...” she says and smiles softly. “And here we are, both of us missing something, although if you ask me, I would opt for real love any day instead of what I have right now.”

  “You’re set to be married.”

  She raises her eyes.