Total pages in book: 86
Estimated words: 94489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 94489 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 472(@200wpm)___ 378(@250wpm)___ 315(@300wpm)
"I'm sure I would," Vanessa says.
Opal squeals ohmygod does that mean you're in love? Together forever? Having babies? "You'd have cute babies."
"I'm sure we would," Vanessa says. "But we're still…"
"It's rude to ask other people about their reproductive choices," I say.
Opal bats the air psh. "I didn't ask. I offered commentary. And it's family."
"Still," I say.
"Okay, I won't ask Vanessa if she wants kids," Opal says. "But we all know you do. And she knows you do. So if you two are as serious as you look… I think Opal is a really great name for a girl."
Vanessa's eyes meet mine.
This time, I know exactly what they're saying: Yes.
I want a future with you.
I see the possibility and I like it.
We linger at the table for a long time. Opal and Vanessa carry the conversation. Mostly Opal asking for every detail of Vanessa's life.
Attending our elite private school. Going to college in Paris. Meeting cute French guys. Spending summers traveling Europe.
The two years she worked at other nonprofits. The MBA training. Starting a company from scratch.
What she does for fun. How she manages to run thirty miles a week when running is truly the worst activity of all time.
She hangs on every one of Vanessa's words.
I listen, but I don't catch everything. Only the feeling of my two favorite people interacting.
Opal wants Vanessa in her life. In our lives.
They talk through a second round of coffee. As we clean up, walk around the park, take in the beautiful, blue day.
The second Opal eyes the subway, she snaps her fingers. "Damn. I'm meeting friends from my art class for lunch," Opal says. "I totally forgot."
"Did you?" Vanessa laughs at the obvious setup.
"Yep. And you two have that gala tonight, right?" Opal asks. "I'll be back around six. If you need help with your dress. Or your makeup."
"You do makeup?" Vanessa asks.
Opal tosses her long hair behind her shoulder. Motions to her lips. "Subtle, huh?"
"It is, actually." Vanessa smiles. "Most girls your age don't have that restraint."
"I do natural. I do punk rock. I do glam. Whatever you desire." She pulls Vanessa into a hug. "I have a thousand palettes. So don't worry about color. Anything you need, I'm there."
"I appreciate that." Vanessa squeezes back.
"I'll text when I'm on my way," Opal says. "Just in case." She releases Vanessa and hugs me goodbye. "Don't fuck it up."
"I'll try," I say.
"Don't try. Do." She pats my shoulder, spins on her heel, skips away.
Vanessa laughs. "She's a Pierce, huh?"
"Demanding and charming?"
"Very."
"Are we near your spot?"
"Nearish."
"Do you want to find it?" I ask.
"Please."
Fuck, that sounds good on her lips.
Chapter Thirty-Three
SIMON
Vanessa squeezes my hand as she leads me through the park.
We walk a winding path, taking in the bright sky, the lemon sun, the mix of tourists and locals.
We head north for fifteen blocks. Then she stops at the place where the path turns.
"It's not as private as the balcony," she says. "There's a real risk."
"You're nervous?"
She nods.
I pull her body into mine.
She shakes against me. Nervous. And turned on.
I want to give her everything. Everything.
But she's right. There's a real risk here.
More for her. It's always worse for women.
But I know the rules.
And I know—
"Do you trust me?" I ask.
"I do."
"This is still dangerous. But less."
"And you know the police commissioner?"
"Yes, we have secret meetings on the roof."
"You're Batman?"
"I thought you knew."
Her laugh breaks the tension in her shoulders. "How did I miss it?"
"We're all oblivious sometimes."
She turns and looks up at me, affection and desire in her eyes. "Simon, I… I really like you."
She doesn't give me a chance to respond. She rises to her tiptoes and presses her lips to mine.
Then she pulls back and leads me into the throng of trees.
We explore the space until we find a secluded spot. It's not private, but it's out of sight of the paths. We're shrouded by thicker, taller trees.
Vanessa presses her hand to my hip. Pushes me against the wood. "I hate to remove the most perfect article of clothing in existence." She slips her hand under my t-shirt. Runs her fingers over the line of my jeans.
"Then don't." I slide one arm around her. Slip the other between her legs.
She shudders as my fingers brush her thigh.
Higher and higher.
There.
She tugs at my belt as I rub her over her panties. "Simon."
I kiss her hard.
She kisses back with reckless abandon. Exploring my mouth, claiming some part of me, some part I'm desperate to give.
I rub her with slow circles.
Again and again, until she's groaning against my mouth.
Then I pull back. Press my lips to her jaw.
Her collarbone.
The neckline of her dress.
She knots her hand in my hair as I drop to my knees.
I duck under her skirt and roll her panties to her ankles.
She lifts her legs as I peel the fabric from her feet.