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Mistakenly, I assume he's planning to run back home. It's what would be normal. Instead we both fall back to the sofa with a simultaneous groan, sitting closer than I would deem usual for the anti-social creature.
I feel strangely casual about the close proximity.
'He's given you a pay rise?' he summaries, delicately. 'After he asked for your number?'
His voice is holding that annoyingly gentle tone. It's a tone I'm not sure I like. It's not condescending per se, not even patronising, it's more like... worry. A worry that I'd prefer he to keep concealed.
My head falls into a nod as I pass him the cell; the evidence bright on the screen like a warning. He grimaces, placing his right hand to his mouth.
Oh God.
'You don't think it's some sort of...' he hesitates, watch downcast as he takes in my awkward seating. I fight to correct it. '... bribery do you?'
'Or blackmail.' I whisper. Like an idiot, I don't think he's listening much but he catches my words like a hawk to its prey and shifts till he's got me held to his direction.
'Did something happen?' he breathes, the undivided attention making me wish I was both deaf and dumb... and possibly even dead, too.
'No.'
Pay rises are good. I got a pay rise. That's good? Right? I don't even believe me so I can't see how he does.
He takes another steady breath.
'You don't have to stay there if he's making you uncomfortable?' He murmurs slowly.
He knows it's the sort of sentence to piss me off because it does exactly that.
Does he not get it? Is he really that naive he doesn't understand I need this job?! I won't let myself be a burden. Not now. Not ever.
'Of course I do.' I'm not yelling even if I'm upset enough to show I'm furious. Maybe not at him directly except I can't help but accidentally give him the brunt of it. 'If I get fired- if I quit, I've got fuck all. No money. No college. No future-'
Lacking money is the big thing. If I don't have money, I don't have a chance with anything else.
'Hey,' he says softly. He reaches out towards me though as my cold shoulder, returns to his own space maybe a little rejected. 'If you're short, you know we can cover you.'
Pfft, 'we'.
'I won't be short, I'll be broke!' I cry out. All these opportunities- shot down by my own fucking body…
'Like I said, I can cover you!' He insists brushing a hand through his hair. He looks stressed. Unlike me, apparently, his eyes do not change colour.
'Not for long. Not for months or years. That's ridiculous!'
I can't expect a bunch of students to support a student. I guess I won't be a student. I'll be nothing. I'll have no one. I can't go back home. I won't ever go back home.
'For as long as you need to, Esme.' He repeats. 'I can support you.'
The words are stupid and it makes me angry that he tries to get me to believe them.
'Why don't you understand I won't live like that.' I can feel the ache reach into my hands, slipping through the fingers like silk. 'I'm not going to take away from you.'
The important thing to remember is that there are kids in bed and my emotional snapping isn't helping them sleep any better.
'Money is just money.' He dismisses, eagerly to lighten the atmosphere with an awkward smile. I don't even realise the TV is still on and sitting on the table is a drawn diagram in his neat ink.
'To you. I'm not clever like you, I didn't get a scholarship.'
He wants to argue though something stops him. His features pause.
'That's a point. You could apply for the scholarship, again?' He sounds so hopeful. He didn't even listen.
'Did you not hear me? I'm not talented enough! Besides, I've already started this degree. I like it!'
It's not exactly a lie so much as an exaggeration of the truth. A large exaggeration. As mentioned, I had half thrown myself into it without consideration of what I needed. Architecture had been my dream but I knew I wasn't ready for it. How could I begin to build things when I knew nothing of my world.
What good was space when you didn't know what to fill it with?
'You are more than talented enough. Besides, there's got to be grants specific to your focus? Not even the scholarship- the extended kind perhaps?'
He's officially gone mad. I'm trying to not get angry with him except he's so stupidly polite and infuriating and optimistic that in the act of being polite, he's crushing my soul.
I applied for an Interior Design Scholarship before the end of graduation. Obviously I was declined, again. Just as I was declined every-time I applied. Hence why I'm now juggling so many jobs. It'd break my ego when they decline me again. And again. And again. Not to mention how my own poverty would lead to the crippling indecency of loneliness. Not just with Cullen. Alice, too. And Emmett.
I'd lose them all.
'How about drinks?' they might suggest. 'Sorry, All. I'm currently too poor to even afford a roof over my head, let alone bread.'
No camping trips or indoor sports or weekends away or coffee... It wasn't exactly the best way to keep a friendship alive.
'I'm not good enough.' I repeat, shifting away from him so that we're not seated too near each other. I don't want to look at those deceiving eyes. It's disappointing he has too much misplaced faith in me. That and he's too persuasive.
He looks a little annoyed too. Unlocking his jaw, he sighs, rearranges his sentences before letting their honesty sting my wounded pride.
'Believe me, Esme. You are more than. Please. Just trust me?'
That one hurts.
In this moment I have made my decision. The job is all I have to fund my education, my future. I've got to do whatever I can to keep the system rolling. Like I said before, sex is good? I can just close my eyes if I don't like it. It's only for a few more years. And it's not like I haven't done that before anyway.
What the fuck am I saying? It's not going to come to that.
'What harm can it do?' He asks, referencing my silence.
I shoot daggers at him. 'All the harm in the world! You've got what you need. You're a Doctor! I'm not within a second's grasp of-'
He stands up so that we're face to face, as if strangely determined not to back down for once. I'm trying not to throw something at him, words, hands, mugs. Part of me is starting to miss the times when we're were brief flatmates. In the last two days we've shot up into some weird kind of early marriage.
'If you don't apply, you'll never forgive yourself and I won't forgive you either!'
I do throw something at him. A cushion I think but that's not the point.
'Just fuck off will you?! If you're going to make me feel this awful about all this, just fuck-off!'
I let myself tumble to the floor. Swearing to myself, my hands come up to knead the roots of my hair, threatening to yank out the curls. My head is pounding, my heart doing double the damage and the whole lower half of my body, feat the addition of a bandaged wrist, is inflamed with hot, agonising pain.
Never in my wildest dreams did I see myself yelling at Cullen.
There's a moment when I think he's gone, that he has actually done as I asked though I look up to see his pained face, an open hand held out towards me. With a reserved kind of smirk, he pulls me to my feet before indicating for me to lie on the sofa. He waits till I'm seated with the blanket over my legs before he silently slips to the floor. Whatever the act means, it means enough.
He hates arguing.
'I'm sorry.' I murmur, curbing the defensive tone. Now no longer faced with the intensity of his gaze, I comb the back of his hair. It's sticking up at the back, almost looking like there's some kind of dried blood stuck in it which I pick out with my nails.
Selfishly, I'd yet again forgotten about his bad day.
'No more than me.' He promises, eyes to the TV, dropping ever so slightly in the pressure of my hand. It's somewhat weird. Then again, it's weird I'm touching him. Or maybe it's not. As of recent, everything about him just feels comfortable.
The next thing I'm aware of is a key in the door because I've apparently fallen asleep.
'Hey, Sweet! Oh Carlisle?' While she didn't expect him, the greeting is soft. 'How are you, My Love?'
He's forced himself up into a standing position and even with my sleep filled eyes, I can see that he didn't rest well. His posture is shockingly bad…
'How was your holiday?' He asks, still polite, still smiling despite his aching back. He was awake before me and had been sitting on the arm chair when they came in. Mr Walderman is happy to see him though and they make some conversation about the stock markets doing well this week.
Yet again Cullen didn't bloody wake me! What's his obsession with that this week?!
I greet them as calmly as I can considering I am half-asleep, relay the events of the evening and put the sofa-bedding away. Mrs Walderman is ever so sweet and so I offer to help her unpack her suitcase in an attempt to avoid any trouble I'll be in for accidentally having Cullen 'stay-round'. As typical, she's in a fluster and her husband is still talking to my Flatmate so she accepts the offer without hesitation.
'Carlisle looks like he's doing well,' she notes once we're in her bedroom. The kids are still fast asleep and she's helping me flit between the piles of clean and dirty clothing.
The reference makes me blush.
'Yeah, sorry.' I say guiltily. I didn't exactly ask for their permission to have him round…it just escalated. Err…not in that sense… 'I should have asked, I just didn't think and then he was watching Johnathan while I was with Serena and-' I'm starting to sound panicky…which isn't usual for me.
'Oh, Esme, dear. Don't be silly.' She says, placing a hand on my good arm. She squeezes it before giving a similar smile, her eyes crinkling at the edges.
I'm starting to wonder if she also thinks we're a thing and I don't know how to make myself believable when I say that we're one-hundred percent not.
'He's a good buddy…' I add clumsily.
I don't really like having the word 'buddy' associated with him. A buddy would be Emmett. Annoying as hell but still fun, like a juvenile big brother. At a push, Jasper could fit into that title too. Carlisle was not a 'buddy'. He wasn't a 'lad' or a 'guy' or a 'dude'… and flatmate wasn't exactly fitting either… Oh God. He's just…we're just… friends?
Good friends, though.
Is that worse?
She makes a face before forcing a smile and turning to me.
'Oh? Oh my mistake, I thought you were…' Up go those heavily-plucked eyebrows and with it, my embarrassment.
'No, no, no. No. ' I correct, hiding my flushed face in my task... 'No. No. Not at all No. Nope.…'
Stop thinking about his body, you slut.
'You just seem so close? I'm sorry for making presumptions-' she giggles, sounding so high pitched it's more suited to Alice than her. It's really weird.
I shake my head, dismissing the comment. There's a quiet moment before we both laugh a little relieved. Close. That would've been a better description. Not friends or flatmates. We're just close.
'You do look good together, though,' she teases, winking at me like she's my age and I'm hers…
With Cullen?! Ew. No. No, no, no…no matter how good (correction: Great) his body is or how charmingly sweet he is at the moment (?), we would be just wrong together. Him so innocent, me so not...
Yuck.
It's in silence that I finish helping her out before muttering that I have to leave for class. With a polite 'Good Morning,' Cullen follows me out looking unusually pleased, if not pink in the face.
It makes me suspicious.
I count the money and they've overpaid me by a fucking fortune.
'Oh no you don't!' I mutter, turning around on the spot and storming back to the door I've walked through.
It's only now that I remember I'm in pajamas and slippers in the middle of the street. He on the other hand is in comfy tracksuits so while he can feign casual gear, I look like a street psycho. I decide I must have got hit by a car or something and may be having some awkward dream because Cullen wraps an arm around my waist to stop me and I enjoy it.
Let me just repeat this; Nerd boy, of whom I only see on rare occasions and is so stuck in his Victorian, Edwardian mind-set that he couldn't possibly tell you where the vagina was on the body, let alone touch it willingly- he, he touches my waist.
Voluntarily.
I mean, he doesn't just full on seatbelt me, either. It's like a scene from Swan Lake when his lunges towards me, an arm bent like a diamond's edge to catch a hold of my waist.
And my heart flutters?! What is wrong with me?! Did he overdose me on some weirdo drugs?
Maybe I'm having a heart attack?
'If you go back, you're only going to embarrass them.' He says nobly.
He loosens the perfect hold of his arm, deciding that he shouldn't have touched me without my say-so and therefore commences to freaking out. His freaking out in turn, calms me down immensely. For a moment there, I thought he'd gone all cocky on my ass.
That doesn't sound right. Particularly when I'm in love with the suggestion. I can't be dealing with this shit. Either he's going to be confident as hell or he's going to be shy. I can't handle it two ways, I'm confused enough as it is.
He's blushing.
Ugh.
'It's insulting!' I argue, blaming him for it all because he's meddling with my brain and heart and other things that I am sooooo not going to even validate right now.
'You did your job, Esme. That's what they paid you for.'
This sounds like a dig. Why is he suddenly so Republican?! Hoarding funds wasn't in his moral code?! I find myself lost for words (another weird thing) so storm back into our own house where I throw my pays on the side as a 'quit my job fund'.
The third of our trio is obviously still in bed so I attempt to steal the bathroom first despite the fact that Carlisle has work very soon and if I continue in the speed I'm going at, I'm going to make him late. Still, I can't help but slow into some stunted pace while I brush my teeth.
I think I'm finally alone and I relax a little, taking large a breath.
'Es, without being rude, you really do have to hurry up!' He says through the door.
Like I said, strange mood, so I open the door stay sat by the sink and swear at him while vigorously cleaning my fangs. He's a little stunted at first, perhaps amused and doesn't know what to do till I raise my hand at him in question.
I.e. 'I'm not moving, take your pick'
He probably wants the shower but because I'm grumpy I make no intention to move… so he grabs his toothbrush. Then the fucker won't stop staring at me. Those delicate blue eyes are on my face, back to the mirror at my reflection and then my mouth again.
'D'you mind?' he asks gently, indicating to his top. He's taken the words right from my brain. He's going to get undressed except he's being polite first.
Yes. I do mind….or do I?
He thinks the fall of my head is a nod and so strips off his t-shirt in one flourished movement and rustles about in the bathroom cupboard with only a well-toned back on show. The fall of my head was confusion, I was just simply following my jaw so I didn't stare open mouthed at the guy.
I've stopped brushing my teeth.
Now I'm the stalker…
My eyes are glued to him and his body and his back and his shoulders. Damn, those shoulders. In fact, my neck is getting hot. He's rushing about a bit but for me, everything is relatively slow. He reaches in front of me to turn on the shower and I'm still wiping the bristles along my incisors though I don't really need to. They're perfectly clean.
I look at him weakly just because he's in my eye line; I've clearly forgotten my own name as well as the act of breathing because he's just talking but there's no way I'm listening. The reflection did him no justice at all yesterday.
My eyes are melting as they run down his chest, eyebrow raised, taking him all in. The smooth bumps of hard work, the fine hair trailing from his naval and below… There's more to see than yesterday because his pants are loose. Not too loose but loose enough that I see the pelvic muscles. I'm more than warm now, I'm completely flustered. My mouth is watering. I'm hot in my underwear, which kinda hurts but not necessarily in a bad way…
He is outrageously attractive.
Apparently his mouth keeps opening and closing. His impatient face needing an answer. He's still rushing about around me and because I'm in a daze, I only just realise in time what he is asking. He fits a flat hand into waistband as warning.
My knees are going weak.
Blue eyes look sheepishly to me, muttering more words I don't note. And as I realise where I am… down comes his joggers.
Oh hell no!
I throw my toothbrush in frustration and storm past him, knocking his shoulder with mine. My heart is going wild but that is too far. Flatmate or no flatmate, marbled God or not, there is no way I will ever be able to face him if I see his dick.
What the heck is wrong with the man?!
Boundaries!
I send Alice a text and then with a mind as blank as a clean canvas, I automatically start getting ready for my lecture.
The class is okay… I don't listen as much as I should because I'm thinking about what Cullen said about the scholarship. I'd still be attending the same college. Longer hours, less days. I'd be painting all the time, writing essays, selling my work, being happy. If I got in… Art functions and gallery's and posh parties and snobby art connoisseurs. It was a dream. A dream that could only ever be a dream.
Alice is a lot more friendly today and she greets me with such a large hug that I wonder what she's done wrong.
She looks pretty, her dark hair is spiky at her chin and her coat long and blue. She looks like a cat walk model…except she'd barely reach the hips of a real life star.
'How you doing?' She asks enthusiastically, pushing my drink towards me. She offered to pay and because I'm not an asshole, I order something relatively cheap. She's definitely up to something.
'Yeah, eventful weekend.' I say.
I think I'm hilarious. Though thinking to all my war wounds, I really shouldn't be. Thank fuck I'm doped up on aspirin right now other wise I would be in an unnameable amount of pain.
'Carlisle mentioned.' She says quickly, mirroring my smile.
Give me a break.
'He did?' I ask nervously. I've half thrown myself across the table and now need to pull myself back with nonchalance. 'What did he say?'
Well there goes that plan. Why do I sound like the girl scout who's got her first crush?
'All he said was that he had an 'eventful' weekend?'
She's watching me with cat eyes. My tongue sweeps along my teeth. I'm thinking.
'So when did you two get so chatty?' I try to tease, taking a careful sip of my drink. The only problem is that my teasing, yet again, has a displeasing sound to it. I sound pissed off. More like when did he get so chatty. Eurgh what is with him recently?!
'Since he and Jasper started hanging out. And since my best friend started to live with him.'
I roll my eyes as she goes on to tell me the boys have a shared interest in history and philosophy. It's hurting my head, I'm thinking I should just come clean, bear it all. I can't deal with this weirdo confusion going on with my brain at the moment. Do I tell her?! Do I keep quiet?! Why is he messing with my system?!
'Cullen has been acting really weird lately….' I say eventually.
Mainly because I can't bear to keep it to myself. I say lately like it's a gradual turn of events. It's not. It's BAM; meet Carlisle Cullen, after four years, he's no longer as shy as you thought. Crazy, huh? And I'm apparently supposed to be totally cool with it.
'He has?' She's not too convincing at first but somehow she manages to persuade me that she knows nothing. I take a big deep breath in.
'I think I freaked him out when I asked him to check my vagina.'
Clearly not my best choice of wording. Her jaw falls open.
'You did what?!'
I so don't need her anger right now. It's not like I'm attracted to the guy…not much. That only makes me think I'm going crazy and her face suggests that perhaps I am actually really stupid. She's staring at me, open mouthed.
'Long story short, I've torn my vagina, he remedied it but was really weird after…' I'm starting to feel really insecure from the way she's looking at me.
'You don't think it could be due to the fact he had his hand up his Flatmate?!' She squeaks.
I narrow my eyes, suspiciously.
'Funny… that's just what he said?' Hmm odd. She's still looking about herself though, not giving my news the consideration it deserves. 'Just tell me will you- I know you're up to something!' I say exasperated.
The bell on the coffee shop door rings, I'm only paying attention to Alice randomly standing up in front of me.
'I've invited the girls,' she says quickly.
And all of a sudden they're here. The girls? When did they become the girls?! We are not 'the girls' type of people. That's not who we are!
Bella is looking shy still though she smiles nevertheless. Blondie offers a tight attempt. I'll take what I can get. Alice greets them both as if they're her sisters. Goddamn Alice and her good nature.
'You were saying?' She says innocently, sitting down so that we're now in a four. She's immediately relaxed.
'Does it matter?' I mumble quickly. Blondie is grinning, clearly intrigued to my misery, the sadist bitch.
'Anything we can help you with?' She says it nicely thought it sounds like she's setting me up to hurt myself. Trust me, I so don't need your help right now.
'Nope.' I say it too fast. Bella is sounding interested too.
'Are you sure? You sound stressed?'
Of course I'm sure! Do you really think I'm going to depend on the aid of three girls who wouldn't even go to the toilet on their own? No. Go to your boring Mother's meetings and leave the debauchery to me.
'Yeah of course, I better head off anyway…I've got a seminar...'
Alice's sad eyes follow me as I say my goodbyes and hurry out the shop. Now I'm in a dilemma…for the moment I really thought Alice might be able to help me out and she's pretty much my only friend- .
Without a second's hesitation, I drive to Emmett's.
He's still in bed so Jasper opens the door, clearly surprised as he lets me storm past him.
'Hi?' He greets looking a little alarmed, his dark blonde eyebrows inching closer towards his eyes. 'Carlisle isn't-'
I almost barge in. Almost, I'm not that rude.
'Is Emmett still in bed?' I interrupt, ever the impatient one. I'm courteous enough to now turn around to face him as if it suggest I am not completely up to something.
'Normally doesn't get up until evening.' He says smiling.
'Call this an early wake-up call then!'
It's on throwing open the bedroom door that I am suddenly crazy grateful for living with Edward instead. Emmett's room is disturbingly foul and even from the smell of boy, I feel sick. Pushing through it, I refuse to breath through my nose.
'Oi.' I say, kicking his rib with my painted toes. He's lucky I went for sandals today, I had been thinking about the sneakers with the hard rim.
Usual Emmett, more talk than action; he groans but doesn't move.
'Em, come on, I need your help…'
'Nrr.'
I roll my eyes and push on his rib again a little harder.
Now Emmett is your typical lad. He works out, very hard and his body tells you that. He is very muscular and incredibly well built so that he'll tower over anyone but unlike some people, he knows how to have fun and eats and drinks what he shouldn't.
Unlike some people, he doesn't have a natural good compassionate patience and loyalty overdosed with the finest art of male specimen my experienced eyes have had the luck to pour over. Well, at least the majority of it anyway.
The point is sure, Emmett is hot but he only wishes he could be like the Goody-Two-Shoes.
Hurriedly, I try and shake the image away.
'Emmett!' I growl. This is the part where I emphasise how impatient I am. He buries his head further into the pillows so that I can only see his curls of brown. I kick him again, enough to leave a mark this time.
'Whaaat?!' He says finally, turning over so he's looking at me. Again, unlike Carlisle, he sleeps naked which is a totally natural boy thing to do. Carlisle wouldn't sleep naked if he was on a desert and burning up. We could torch his clothes and he'd find a way to cover his modesty.
'I need your help.' I repeat, folding my arms over my chest. I've got to be quick, I've got work soon seeing as the bastards called me in early.
'What is it?' He complains, sitting up so the blanket falls and I see his morning glory…oh God. I turn around hurriedly and in turning around I spot something that could be very useful.
For a moment I'm distracted. How many times had I woken up in Carlisle's bed and how many times had he had a morning glory?! He was a guy right? I'm sure he's said so but I have never seen the guy even slightly turned on. Not even by nature? I mean, he ran for fuck sake? Don't you get a stiffy afterwards?
It's good I've spotted what I've spotted. This'll help.
'Can I borrow these?' I ask excitedly, probably not the best thing to sound while holding the DVDs but nevertheless, I have a plan. A dodgy and frankly disturbingly weird plan. But I've had enough of this Saintly bullshit. This whole act is about to be destroyed.
He's looking at me, eyebrows raised as he tries to read my obscure thoughts.
'You really are one of your own kind aren't you?' He says grinning.
I roll my eyes. 'It's not for me, dumbass. It's for Cullen.'
If I needed the damn DVDs, I wouldn't go to Emmett, yuck.
'You're giving porn to Cullen?!' I'm annoyed he's copying Alice's confusion in it all. If anyone, he should be the first to support me.
'Yeah, it might reinstall a bit of confidence in him, you know. Bring a bit of motivation to the dormant sex drive.' I say, trying to act like it means nothing. It means everything, I am destroying an era.
'Isn't that...' His large grin transforms into a crooked but nevertheless entertained, smile.
'Isn't it what?' The reason I sound bored is because I wanted more endearing support from the guy.
'Morally wrong?'
'For fuck sake, Emmett. He's not a priest.' He's a young lad who needs to get L-A-I-D. He burst out into laughter before carefully pulling out one of the DVDs from the stack in my hand. It's black with labelled warning signs on it.
'Not that one…' He says with a smile. 'Don't want to haunt the poor guy.'
'You're sick.' I say . I don't really need Emmett's help anymore seeing as I've now stolen his collection so I go to leave but he stops me, hand poised in the air.
'No, hold on. I've got to know. Es, why in the sane-heck of all that is normal in the world, are you giving porn to Cullen?'
Damn. I don't really wanna say anything more than I have to.
'Like I said, dormant sex drive.' I say offhandedly. He smirks, but unusually, he seems not to believe me.
'You live with the guy, why would you want to make him the slag that you are?'
I glare at him.
'No offence,' he adds.
I sigh. 'Consider it a favour.'
'For you or him?'
'To him. Obviously. He doesn't get out enough. If he becomes the raging slut that I am then I don't have to feel guilty about anything.' I explain, smiling.
It's a poor excuse but it's kind of true. It's also true that the weird kind of innocent-come badboy act is doing something really weird for me and becoming a bit of a turn-on in itself. I need to stop that. And whats more unattractive than anything else in the world? A bigheaded, confident, cocky bastard who is dying to sleep with anyone they see.
I'm a goddamn genius.
'Wait till you walk in on him jacking off, then you'll regret it.' He says humourously, head thrown back as he laughs at his own joke.
'Hardly. He wouldn't masturbate if we glued his hands to his cock and forced porn into his eyes.'
... Hmmm.
Emmett laughs again, loudly before guesting towards the door so I leave him to sleep…If that's really what he's going to do... Why did I have to say that?
Jasper is in his armchair when I come back down the stairs, looking like he's watching TV but he's laughing despite the fact the news is on. The news is never funny to a history fanatic.
'Why do you want to corrupt him?' He asks, trying with great failure to hide the smile. The guy isn't an idiot and I left the door open in Emmett's room while speaking to him... I'm also not exactly hiding the collection of porn in my hands…he would've seen it anyway.
'Everyone needs a little corruption some time.'
He chuckles loudly this time, shaking his head. 'You are so bad.'
'I know.' I say grinning, heading towards the front door. I'm going to stop off at the lingerie store downtown. Not for me, I don't want to think about that at all, not with work so soon. Though I've been clever today by wearing thick underwear, totally unflattering, totally unsexy. Safe. Good.
'Jaz?'
'Hmm?' His eyes don't leave the TV.
'Err, don't tell Alice about this…she'd only be pissed off.'
She'll be 'pissed off' because I'm totally destroying that fucking fake Saint shit. If he's going to undress in front of me he can say goodbye to the whole innocence routine and go and shag someone before I do something I regret.
Jasper chuckles. 'Secrets safe…good luck.'
My plan is already laid out in my head and after searching around in the adult store, I finally find the toy section. I grab the guy his own collection of lube because he needs it then a pair of fluffy handcuffs (only because they don't have normal ones) and another raunchy DVD or so, including one with a doctor and a nurse role-playing on it because I'm a fucking comedienne. They don't cost much. Enough that I'm a fucking idiot for buying it when I have to save for funding my whole life, but also enough that it'll save us both loads of money for the therapy we'll need if I do accidentally jump on his dick.
With that, I chuck them in the boot of my car without a second glance and with a distracted mind, head to work.