#The idea that Camila felt like she had to/was forced to straighten her hair in order to fit in better is a very very sad one
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Something I noticed upon rewatching Thanks to Them...
Look at the trashcan in Camila's room!
There's a hair straightener in it! That would explain why Camila's hair is starting to look so wavy/curly as of this episode.
I can't help but wonder if she started to straighten her hair in order to "conform" to what everyone else wanted. Much like she had to do growing up it seems, and much like Luz was pressured to do so....
That's probably also why Luz's hair is starting to get curly/wavy too.
#the owl house#The Owl House Spoilers#ToH#ToH spoilers#ToH Thanks to Them#ToH Camila#The Owl House Camila#The Owl House Thanks To Them#The idea that Camila felt like she had to/was forced to straighten her hair in order to fit in better is a very very sad one#Like....her curlier/wavier hair is so cute....
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Chapter 17
I pushed to my feet in a rush.
“Don’t,” she warned in a dark purr. “You’re not running yet. We’re not done.”
“You don’t know what you’re talking about.” Being under someone else’s thumb—losing my right to say no!—was never going to happen again. “You know what I went through. I need control as much as you do.”
“Sit down, Camila.”
I stayed on my feet, just to prove my point.
Her smile widened and my insides melted. “Do you have any idea how crazy I am about you?” She murmured.
“You’re crazy all right, if you think I’m going to put up with being ordered around, especially sexually.”
“Come on, Camila. You know I don’t want to beat you, punish you, hurt you, demean you, or order you around like a pet. Those aren’t needs either of us has.” Straightening, Lauren leaned forward and placed her elbows on the desktop. “You’re the most important thing in my life. I treasure you. I want to protect you and make you feel safe. That’s why we’re talking about this.”
God. How could she be so wonderful and so insane at the same time? “I don’t need to be dominated!”
“What you need is someone to trust—No. Close your mouth, Camila. You’ll wait until I’m finished.”
My protest spluttered into silence.
“You’ve asked me to reacquaint your body with acts previously used to hurt and terrorize you. I can’t tell you what your trust means to me or what it would do to me if I broke that trust. I can’t risk it, Camila. We have to do this right.”
I crossed my arms. “I guess I’m dumber than bricks. I thought our sex life was rockin’.”
Setting her glass down, Lauren kept going as if I hadn’t spoken. “You asked me to meet a need of yours today and I agreed. Now we need to—”
“If I’m not what you want, just spit it out!” I set the picture frame and my glass down before I did something with them I’d regret. “Don’t try and pretty it up with—”
she was around the desk and on me before I could stumble back more than a couple steps. Her mouth sealed over mine, her arms caged me. As she’d done earlier, she carried me to a wall and restrained me against it, her hands banding my wrists and lifting them high above my head.
Trapped, I could nothing as she bent her knees and stroked my cleft with the rigid length of her erection. Once, twice. Silk rasped against my swollen clit. The bite of her teeth on my covered nipple sent a shiver through me, while the clean scent of her warm skin intoxicated me. With a gasp, I sagged into her embrace.
“See how easily you submit when I take over?” Her lips followed the arch of my brow. “And it feels good doesn’t it? It feels right.”
“That’s not fair.” I stared up at her. How could she expect me to respond any differently? As disturbed and confounded as I was, I was helplessly drawn to her.
“Of course it is. It’s also true.”
My gaze roamed over that glorious mane of inky hair and the chiseled lines of her incomparable face. The longing I felt was so acute it was painful. The hidden damage inside her only made me love her more. There were times when I felt like I’d found the other half of myself in her.
“I can’t help it that you turn me on,” I muttered, “My body is physiologically supposed to soften and relax, so you can shove that big cock inside me.”
“Camila. Let’s be honest. You want me to have total control. It’s important to you that you can trust me to take care of you. There’s nothing wrong with that. The reverse is true for me—I need you to trust me enough to give up that control.”
I couldn’t think when she was pressed up against me, my body achingly aware of every hard inch of her. “I am not submissive.”
“You are with me. If you look back, you’ll see you’ve been yielding to me all along.”
“You’re good in bed! And have more experience. Of course I let you do what you want to me.” I bit my lower lip to stop it from quivering. “I’m sorry I haven’t been as exciting for you.”
“Bullshit, Camila. You know how much I enjoy making love to you. If I could get away with it, I’d do nothing else. We’re not talking about games that get me off.”
“Then we’re talking about what gets me off? Is that what this is?”
“Yes. I thought so.” she frowned. “You’re upset. I didn’t mean—Damn it. I thought discussing this would help us.”
“Lauren.” My eyes stung, then flooded with tears. she looked as wounded and confused as I felt. “You’re breaking my heart.”
Releasing my wrists, she stepped back and swept me up in her arms, carrying me out of her office and down the hallway to a closed door. “Turn the knob,” she said quietly.
We entered a candlelit room that still smelled faintly of new paint. For a few seconds I was disoriented, unable to comprehend how we’d stepped out of Lauren’s apartment and into my bedroom.
“I don’t understand.” A serious understatement, but my brain was still trying to get past the feeling of being teleported from one residence to another. “You…moved me in with you?”
“Not quite.” she set me down, but kept an arm around me. “I recreated your room based on the photo I took of you sleeping.”
“Why?”
What the hell? Who did something like that? Was this all to keep me from witnessing her nightmares?
The thought shattered my heart further. I felt like Lauren and I were drifting further away from each other by the moment.
Her hands sifted through my damp hair, which only increased my agitation. I felt like batting her touch away and putting at least the length of the room between us. Maybe two rooms.
“If you feel the need to run,” she said softly, “you can come in here and shut the door. I promise not to bother you until you’re ready. This way, you have your safe place and I know that you haven’t left me.”
A million questions and speculations roared through my mind, but the one thing that stuck out was, “Are we still going to share a bed when we’re sleeping?”
“Every night.” Lauren’s lips touched my forehead. “How could you think otherwise? Talk to me, Camila. What’s going through that beautiful head of yours?”
“What’s going through my head?” I snapped. “What the fuck is going on in yours? What happened to you in the four days we were broken up?”
Her jaw tightened. “We never broke up, Camila.”
The phone rang in the other room. I cursed under my breath. I wanted us to talk and I wanted her to go away, both at the same time.
she squeezed my shoulders, and then let me go. “That’s our dinner.”
I didn’t follow her when she left, feeling too unsettled to eat. Instead, I crawled onto the bed that was exactly like my own and curled around a pillow, closing my eyes. I didn’t hear Lauren come back, but I felt her as he drew to a stop at the edge of the bed.
“Please don’t make me eat alone,” she said to my rigid back.
“Why don’t you just order me to eat with you?”
she sighed, and then slid onto the bed to spoon behind me. Her warmth was welcome, chasing away the chill that had brought goose bumps to my skin. she didn’t say anything for a long while, just gave me the comfort of having her close. Or maybe she was taking comfort in me.
“Camila.” Her fingers caressed the length of my silk-clad arm. “I can’t stand you being unhappy. Talk to me.”
“I don’t know what to say. I thought we were finally coming to a point where things would smooth out between us.” I hugged the pillow tighter.
“Don’t tense up, Camila. It hurts when you pull away from me.”
I felt like she was pushing me away.
Rolling, I shoved her to her back; then I mounted her, my robe parting as I straddled her hips. I ran the palms of my hands over her powerful chest and raked the tanned flesh with my nails. My hips undulated over her, stroking my bare cleft over her cock. Through the thin silk of her pants, I could feel every ridge and thick vein. From the way her eyes darkened and her sculpted mouth parted on quickened breaths, I knew she could feel the outline and damp heat of me as well.
“Is this so awful for you?” I asked, rocking my hips. “Are you lying there thinking you’re not giving me what I want because I’m in charge?”
Lauren set her hands on my thighs. Even that innocuous touch seemed dominating.
The edginess and sharpened focus I’d detected not long ago abruptly made sense to me—she wasn’t restraining her force of will anymore.
The tremendous power coiled inside her was now directed at me like a blast of heat.
“I’ve told you before,” she said huskily. “I’ll take you however I can get you.”
“Whatever. Don’t think I don’t know you’re topping from the bottom.”
Her mouth curved with unapologetic amusement.
Sliding down, I teased the flat disk of her nipple with the tip of my tongue. I blanketed her as she’d done to me in the past, stretching my body over her hips and legs, my hands shoving beneath her gorgeous ass to squeeze the firm flesh and hold her tight against me. Her cock was a thick column against my belly, renewing my fierce appetite for her.
“Are you going to punish me with pleasure?” She asked quietly. “Because you can. You can bring me to my knees, Camila.”
My forehead dropped to her chest and the air left my lungs in an audible rush. “I wish.”
“Please don’t be so worried. We’ll get through this along with everything else.”
“You’re so positive you’re right.” My gaze narrowed. “You’re trying to prove a point.”
“And you might prove yours.” Lauren licked her lower lip and my sex clenched in silent demand.
There was a brilliant depth of emotion in her eyes. Whatever else was going on in our relationship, there was no doubt we were seriously twisted up over each other.
And I was about to demonstrate that in the flesh.
Lauren’s neck arched as my mouth moved over her torso. “Oh, Camila.”
“Your world’s about to be rocked, Miss. Jauregui.”
It was. I made sure of it.
Feeling goofy with feminine triumph, I sat at Lauren’s dining table and remembered her as she’d been just a short time ago—damp with sweat and panting, cursing as I took my time savoring her luscious body.
she swallowed a bite of her steak, which had been kept hot courtesy of a warming drawer, and said calmly, “You’re insatiable.”
“Well, duh. You’re gorgeous, sexy, and very well-hung.”
“I’m glad you approve. I’m also extremely wealthy.”
I waved one hand carelessly, encompassing the whole of what had to be a fifty-million-dollar apartment. “Who cares about that?”
“Well, I do, actually.” Her mouth curved.
I stabbed my fork into a German fried potato, thinking that Peter Luger food was almost as good as sex. Almost. “I’m interested in your money only if it means you can afford to stop working in favor of lounging around naked as my sex slave.”
“I could afford to financially, yes. But you’d get bored and dump me, then where would I be?” Her look was warmly amused. “Think you proved your point, do you?”
I chewed, and then said, “Should I prove it again?”
“The fact that you’re still horny enough to want to proves my point.”
“Hmm.” I drank my wine. “Are you projecting?”
she shot me a look and casually chewed another bite of the tenderest steak I’d ever had.
Restless and worried, I took a deep breath and asked, “Would you tell me if our sex life didn’t satisfy you?”
“Don’t be ridiculous, Camila.”
What else could have prompted her to bring this up after our four-day breakup? “I’m sure it doesn’t help that I’m not the type you usually go for. And we haven’t used any of those toys you had in the hotel—”
“Stop talking.”
“Excuse me?”
Lauren set her utensils down. “I’m not going to listen to you shred your self-esteem.”
“What? You’re the only one who gets to do all the talking?”
“You can pick a fight with me, Camila, but it’s still not going to get you fucked.”
“Who said—” I shut up when she glared. she was right. I still wanted her. I wanted her on top of me, explosively lustful, completely in control of both my pleasure and her.
Pushing away from the table, she said curtly, “Wait here.”
When she returned a moment later, she set a black leather ring box beside my plate and resumed her seat. The sight of it hit me like a physical blow. Fear struck me first, icy cold. Followed swiftly by a longing that was white-hot.
My hands shook in my lap. I clasped my fingers together and realized my whole body was shaking. Lost, I lifted my gaze to Lauren’s face.
The feel of her fingertips brushing down my cheek soothed much of the vibrating anxiety inside me, leaving behind the terrible yearning.
“It’s not that ring,” she murmured gently. “Not yet. You’re not ready.”
Something inside me wilted. Then relief flooded me. It was too soon. Neither of us was ready. But if I’d ever wondered how deeply I had fallen in love with Lauren, now I knew.
I nodded.
“Open it,” she said.
With cautious fingers, I pulled the box closer and thumbed open the lid. “Oh.”
Nestled inside the black leather and velvet was a ring like no other. Gold rope-like bands were intertwined and decorated with Xs covered in diamonds.
“Bonds,” I murmured, “secured by crosses.” Lauren Jauregui. Crossfire.
“Not quite. I see the ropes as representative of the many threads of you, not bondage. But yes, the Xs are me holding on to you. By my fingernails, it feels like.” she finished her glass of wine and refilled both our glasses.
I sat unmoving, stunned, trying to take it all in. Everything she’d done in the time we’d been apart—the photos, the ring, Dr. Petersen, the replicated bedroom, and whoever had been following me around—told me I’d never been far from her mind, if I’d even left it at all.
“You gave me my keys back,” I whispered, still remembering the pain.
Her hand reached out and covered mine. “There are a lot of reasons why I did that. You left me wearing nothing but a robe, Camila, and without your keys. I can’t stand thinking about what could’ve happened if Cary hadn’t been home to let you in right away.”
Lifting her hand to my mouth, I kissed the back; then released her and closed the lid of the ring box. “It’s beautiful, Lauren. Thank you. It means a lot to me.”
“But you won’t wear it.” It wasn’t a question.
“After the conversation we’ve had tonight, it feels like a collar.”
After a moment, she nodded. “You’re not altogether wrong.”
My brain hurt and my heart ached. Four nights of restless sleeping didn’t help. I couldn’t understand why she felt I was so necessary, even though I felt that way about her. There were thousands of women in New York alone who could replace me in her life, but there was only one Lauren Jauregui.
“I feel like I’m disappointing you, Lauren. After everything we’ve talked about tonight…I feel like this is the beginning of the end.”
Pushing her chair back, she angled toward me and touched my cheek. “It’s not.”
“When do we see Dr. Petersen?”
“I’ll go alone on Tuesdays. After you talk to him and agree to couples counseling, we can go together on Thursdays.”
“Two hours of your week, every week. Not including the travel back and forth. That’s a big commitment.” I reached up and brushed the hair back from her cheek. “Thank you.”
Lauren caught my hand and kissed the palm. “It’s no sacrifice, Camila.”
she went into her office to work a bit before bed and I carried the ring box into the master bathroom with me. I studied it further while I brushed my teeth and hair.
There was a soft hum of need beneath my skin, a persistent level of arousal that shouldn’t have been possible considering the number of orgasms I’d already had over the course of the day. It was an emotionally driven need to connect to Lauren, to reassure myself that we were okay.
Clutching the ring box in my hand, I went to my side of Lauren’s bed and set it on the nightstand. I wanted it where I’d see it first thing in the morning, after a good night’s sleep.
With a sigh, I draped my beautiful new robe over the footboard and crawled into bed. After tossing and turning for a long while, I finally crashed.
I woke sometime in the middle of the night to a racing pulse and quick, shallow breathing. Disoriented, I lay still for a moment, gathering my bearings and remembering where I was. I tensed when it sank in, my ears straining to hear if Lauren was having another nightmare. When I discovered her lying quietly beside me, her breathing deep and even, I relaxed with a sigh.
What time had she finally come to bed? After the days we’d spent apart, it worried me that she might have felt a need to be alone.
Then it hit me. I was aroused. Painfully so.
My breasts were full and heavy, my nipples furled and tight. My core was aching and my cleft wet. As I lay there in the moonlit darkness, I realized that my own body had woken me with its demands. Had I dreamed something erotic? Or was it enough that Lauren was lying beside me?
Pushing up onto my elbows, I looked at her. The sheet and comforter clung to her waist, leaving her sculpted chest and biceps bared. Her right arm was tossed over her head, framing the fall of dark hair around her lavishly handsome face. Her left arm lay between us on the blankets, the hand fisted and bringing to relief the network of thick veins that coursed up her forearms. Even in repose she looked fierce and powerful.
I became more aware of the tension inside me, the sense that I was drawn to her by the silent exertion of her formidable will. It wasn’t possible that she could demand my surrender while she was sleeping, yet it felt that way, felt like that invisible rope between us was pulling me to her.
The throbbing between my legs grew unbearable and I pressed one hand against the violent pulsing, hoping to dull the ache. The pressure worsened it instead.
I couldn’t stay still. Throwing the covers off, I slid my legs off the side of the mattress and thought about trying a glass of warm milk with the brandy Lauren had given me earlier. Abruptly, I paused, riveted by the moonlight gleaming off the leather of the ring box on the nightstand. I thought of the jewelry inside it and my desire surged. At that moment, the thought of being collared by Lauren filled me with heated yearning.
You’re just horny, I scolded myself.
One of the girls in group had talked about how her “master” could use her body any time and in any way he wanted, for his pleasure alone. There was nothing about that I’d found sexy…until I put Lauren in the picture. I loved getting her off. I loved making her come. Just because.
My fingers brushed over the lid of the tiny box. Exhaling a shaky breath, I picked it up and opened it. A moment later I was sliding the cool band onto the ring finger of my right hand.
“Do you like it, Camila?”
A shiver moved through me at the sound of Lauren’s voice, deeper and rougher than I’d ever heard it. she’d been awake, watching me.
How long had she been conscious? Was she as attuned to me while sleeping as I seemed to be to her?
“I love it.” I love you.
Setting the box aside, I turned my head to find her sitting up. Her eyes glittered in a way that made me impossibly more aroused, but also sent a bite of fear through me. It was an unguarded look, like the one that had literally knocked me on my ass when we met—scorching and possessive, filled with dark threats of ecstasy. Her gorgeous face was harsh in the shadows, her jaw taut as she lifted my right hand to her mouth and kissed the ring she’d given me.
I moved to kneel on the bed and draped my arms around her neck. “Take me. Carte blanche.”
she cupped my butt and squeezed. “How does it feel to say that?”
“Almost as good as the orgasms you’re going to give me.”
“Ah, a challenge.” The tip of her tongue teased the seam of my lips, tempting me with the promise of a kiss she deliberately withheld.
“Lauren!”
“Lay back, angel, and grip your pillow with both hands.” Her mouth curved in a wicked smile. “Don’t let go for any reason. Understand?”
Swallowing hard, I did as I was told, so turned on I thought I might come from just the relentless spasming of my needy sex.
she kicked the covers down to the footboard. “Spread your legs and pull up your knees.”
My breath caught audibly as my nipples hardened further, causing a deep ache in my breasts. God, Lauren was hot as hell like this. I was panting with excitement, my mind spinning with the possibilities. The flesh between my legs trembled with want.
“Oh, Camila,” she crooned, running her index finger through my slick cleft. “Look how greedy you are for me. It’s a full-time job keeping this sweet little cunt satisfied.”
That single rigid finger pushed into me, parting the swollen tissues. I tightened around her, so close to coming I could taste it. she withdrew and lifted her hand to her mouth, licking my flavor from her skin. My hips arched without volition, my body straining toward her.
“Your fault I’m so hot for you,” I gasped. “You slacked on the job for days.”
“Then I better make up for lost time.” Sliding down into a prone position, she settled her shoulders beneath my thighs and rimmed the quivering entrance to my body with the tip of her tongue. Around and around. Ignoring my clit and refraining from fucking me even when I begged.
“Lauren, please.”
“Shh. I have to get you ready first.”
“I’m ready. I was ready before you woke up.”
“Then you should’ve woken me earlier. I’ll always take care of you, Camila. I live for it.”
Whimpering in distress, I rocked my hips into that teasing tongue. Only when I was soaked with my own arousal, creaming desperately for the feel of any part of her I could get inside me, did she crawl over me and settle between my spread thighs, placing her forearms flat on the bed.
she held my gaze. Her cock, feverishly hot and hard as stone, lay against the lips of my sex. I wanted it inside me more than I wanted to breathe. “Now,” I gasped. “Now.”
With a practiced shift of her hips, she rammed deep into me, shoving me up the bed.
“Ah, God,” I gasped, convulsing ecstatically around the thick column of flesh that possessed me. This was what I’d needed since we’d talked in her home office, what I’d craved as I rode up and down her steely erection before dinner, what I’d needed even as I climaxed around her thick length.
“Don’t come,” she murmured in my ear, cupping my breasts in her hands and rolling my nipples between her thumb and forefingers.
“What?” I was pretty sure if she’d just take a deep breath I’d go off.
“And don’t let go of the pillow.”
Lauren began to move in a slow, lazy rhythm. “You’re going to want to,” she murmured, nuzzling the sensitive spot beneath my ear. “You love to grab my hair and rake your nails down my back. And when you’re close to coming, you like to squeeze my ass and yank me deeper. Makes me so damn hard when you go wild like that, when you show me how much you love how I feel inside you.”
“No fair,” I moaned, knowing she was deliberately provoking me. The cadence of her raspy voice was perfectly timed with the relentless surging of her hips. “You’re torturing me.”
“Good things come to those who wait.” Her tongue traced the shell of my ear, and then dipped inside at the same moment she tugged on my nipples.
I bucked into her next thrust and nearly came. Lauren knew my body so well, knew all its secrets and erogenous zones. she was expertly stroking her cock inside me, rubbing over and over the tender bundle of nerves that quivered in delight.
Rolling her hips, she screwed into me, exploiting other spots. I made a plaintive sound, on fire for her, desperately infatuated. My fingers cramped with the grip I had on my pillow, my head thrashing against the driving need to orgasm. she could get me there just by rubbing inside me, the only person who’d ever been skilled enough to give me an intense vaginal orgasm.
“Don’t come,” she repeated, her voice hoarse. “Make it last.”
“I c-can’t. It feels too good. God, Lauren…” Tears leaked out of the corners of my eyes. “I…I’m lost in you.”
I cried softly, afraid to say the other L-word too soon and risk upsetting the delicate balance between us.
“Oh, Camila.” she rubbed her cheek against my damp face. “I must’ve wished for you so hard and so often you had no choice but to come true.”
“Please,” I begged softly. “Slow down.”
Lauren lifted her head to look at me, choosing that moment to pinch my nipples with just enough force to inflict a hint of pain. The tender muscles inside me clenched down so hard that her next thrust caused her to groan.
“Please,” I pled again, trembling with the effort to stave off my building climax. “I’m going to come if you don’t slow down.”
Her gaze was hot on my face, her hips still lunging in a measured tempo that was slowly stealing my sanity. “Don’t you want to come, Camila?” She purred in that voice that could lure me into hell with a dreamy smile. “Isn’t that what you’ve been working toward all night?”
My neck arched as her lips drifted across my throat. “Only when you say I can,” I gasped. “Only…when you say.”
“Angel.” One hand moved to my face, brushing back the strands of hair that clung to the perspiration on my skin. she kissed me deeply, reverently, licking deep into my mouth.
Yes…
“Come for me,” she coaxed, quickening her pace. “Come, Camila.”
On command, the orgasm struck me like a blow, shocking my system with an overload of sensation. Wave after wave of pulsing heat rolled through me, contracting my sex and tightening my core. I cried out, first with an inarticulate sound of agonized pleasure, then with her name. Chanting it over and over as she drove her beautiful cock into me, prolonging my climax, before pushing me into another one.
“Touch me,” she rasped, as I fell apart beneath her. “Hold me.”
Freed from her command to hold the pillow, I bound her to my sweat-slick body with arms and legs. she pounded deep and hard, driving strenuously toward her climax.
she came with a growl, her head thrown back as she spurted into me for long minutes. I held her until our bodies cooled and our breathing evened.
When Lauren finally rolled off me, she didn’t go far. she wrapped herself around my back and whispered, “Sleep now.”
I don’t remember if I stayed awake long enough to reply.
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Carnival: Trial by Fire
This story was written for @vic-kovac for the @b99fandomevents Fall 2019 Fic Exchange. Vic-kovac, I was SO EXCITED to get you as my prompter because I love your writing so much and your prompts were all fantastic (in fact, there may be a second story coming along...). I hope you like this!
Thank you to my always amazing beta, @fezzle. I don’t want to think about what I’d do without you, Z.
The prompt I chose: The Santiagos have an annual family tradition and Amy takes Jake along (fluff, early established relationship). To the story! (Or read on A03!)
Part 1: Amy
Jake had splurged on express delivery but the new mattress still wasn’t scheduled to arrive until the weekend, so they were at Amy’s apartment, in Amy’s bed, under Amy’s floral comforter when she dropped the bomb.
“I talked to my mom today,” Amy said, casual-like, her nose in a crossword puzzle. Maybe too casual-like.
“Hm,” Jake said. He was playing a game on his phone. Amy peeped over his shoulder at the screen. It looked like it involved harvesting pumpkins, which was season-appropriate, at least.
“I told her about us.”
Jake gave her a side glance, then set his phone in his lap. “You did?”
“I did.”
Jake waited while Amy pretended to return to her puzzle, tapping the cap of her pen against her lower lip. Finally he chuckled and tore the paper out of her hands.
“Jake-”
“What did she say? Are we in the clear or is this going to be a Romeo and Juliet situation?”
“For the last time, we’re never going to be a Romeo and Juliet situation.” Amy said, scowling at him. “Do you still not remember how that play ends?”
“No, and stop trying to avoid the question.”
“Jake, it’s a double suici-” But she noted the stormy look on Jake’s face and caved. “She’s happy for me – for us. She’s only disappointed that she can’t be here for Thanksgiving so my dad’s going to get to meet you before she does.”
Jake chuckled. “Is everything in your family a competition?”
“Yes.”
Jake gave her a slow nod at that, the look on his face part bemused, part concerned – Amy figured she was going to see a lot more of that when it came to her family – but then he smiled. And it was a smile that made his whole face go soft, his eyes wide and warm, and she couldn’t resist leaning in to kiss his mouth.
“Thank you,” Jake said, gentle and sincere, when she’d pulled away.
“You’re welcome,” Amy said.
They both sat back against the headboard again, phone and puzzle in hands. Amy bit her lip and glanced at his profile. He looked so relaxed, so content, that she almost felt bad.
“Mom also said this means you have to come to the annual carnival.”
Jake hummed his acknowledgment again, then his brows knit in bemusement and he said, “What now?”
“It’s a Santiago tradition,” Amy said. “You’re going to love it.”
In truth, she thought he might hate it. There was a slim but real chance their relationship might not survive it.
“A carnival,” Jake said. He nodded to himself and then grinned at her. “Sounds fun, babe.”
She did not correct him.
Part 2: Nick
The carnival was really more of a neighborhood block party, started by Victor Santiago back when he was a sergeant in the 103rd precinct. The Santiago children had been enlisted as volunteers since the very first carnival, when it was just a barbecue and some folding chairs and kids kicking rotten Halloween pumpkins in the street. Over the years it had become a neighborhood institution, with hundreds of people turning out over the afternoon and into the evening – it was a way for families old and new to reconnect, for residents to take pride in their community, and for the local cops to show their soft underbellies and let kids throw pies in their faces.
Victor and Camila had moved away years ago, but the Santiago siblings by unspoken agreement had kept up their participation. Though the Santiagos no longer organized the event and none of them lived in the neighborhood anymore, they always attended, along with a growing cadre of Amy’s nieces and nephews and associated girlfriends and boyfriends and in-laws. Not one sibling had missed a single carnival – not Amy when she’d been sick with pneumonia, or Ivan when his wife had given birth two days before, or David, who had turned down a commendation from the mayor so he could attend the 2012 fair. (He got the medal anyway, in a private ceremony at the mayor’s own home. Bruce Willis had been there. It was a long story. Amy planned to never tell Jake.)
Some might say it had become a competition among Amy and her brothers to see who would attend the most carnivals. Amy just called it a nice family tradition.
As she walked hand in hand with Jake up the subway stairs, she could hear the screeches of small children and the familiar strains of Cuban salsa coming from above. The exit deposited them half a block from the carnival, which was just getting started, volunteers hustling around with arms full of raffle tickets and platters of meat to be barbecued even as the first families with young children began meandering among the booths. Autumn-colored streamers were strung between tents and someone had dusted the ground with straw to add to the seasonal effect. Amy could already smell the odd but intoxicating aroma of roasting meat and pumpkin spice.
She insisted on paying the $5 entry for each of them, then paused to take a deep breath and smile at the familiarity of it all. She turned to Jake to ask what he thought, and his eyes were warm and bright as he took it in. She took his left arm in both her hands and snuggled in close to him, suddenly so happy to have him here in this place like home.
And then he was tugged right out of her hands and she looked up to find Nick with an arm slung around Jake’s shoulders – or more like his neck – in a fairly aggressive way.
“Nick!”
“Sorry, sis, this is Jake, right? I need to borrow him for a minute. Jake, I’m Nick, Amy’s favorite little brother.”
“Uh-” Jake said.
As he was dragged away, Jake looked back over his shoulder at Amy, all the warmth from just a moment before replaced by wide-eyed fear. Amy waved at him and called after Nick, “You’d better not break him! Nick!”
An hour later, after helping one of the neighborhood abuelitas sell raffle tickets, Amy excused herself and went hunting for her boyfriend. She found him in a booth amid the snack tents. He was grinning madly as he handed an enormous pile of cotton candy, wound precariously atop a cardboard stick, to a girl who couldn’t have been older than 5, and whose mother looked horrified. The spun sugar was bright pink and larger than the child’s head.
Jake saw Amy and his eyes went wide and he frantically looked all around the tent, then mouthed “help me.” He had wisps of pink and blue sugar in his hair and the wild-eyed look of a man who’d been eating samples of pure sugar for an hour. Amy grabbed his sticky hand and hissed, “come with me,” and snuck him out the back, right under Nick’s nose.
Part 3: Omar
She took him to one of the family restrooms to wash up, though there wasn’t much they could do for his hair – the sugar seemed to have embedded itself in his curls. Amy had only the faintest memories of eating cotton candy as a child, of the way it melted on her tongue like something ephemeral and unnatural, not entirely of this world. She was afraid that some kind of chemical reaction had taken place on Jake’s head.
“I’m sorry about that. I don’t know what Nick was thinking putting you on cotton candy duty right out of the gate,” Amy said, as they left the bathroom, Jake still scrubbing his hair with a paper towel.
He shrugged and smiled at her easily enough. “I love cotton, and I love candy, I just had no idea that when you put them together things got so…sticky.”
“You know that cotton candy isn’t cotton.”
“You’re so cute when you’re wrong,” Jake said, and kissed her on the forehead. “Anyway, Nick was nice.”
“Nice? Nick?”
“Sure,” Jake said, shooting her a bemused look. “Is he not nice?”
“He’s not not-nice,” Amy said, which seemed to confuse Jake even more. “He’s just-”
But then Omar sprung up between them, as if out of thin air, and slid his arms around both of their shoulders.
“Amy! I can’t believe you haven’t introduced me yet!”
Amy rolled her eyes and said to Jake, “Jake, this is my brother Omar. Omar, Jake.”
“Much better. Now off you go, Amy. Mrs. Hernandes was asking for you over at the cake walk,” Omar said, and began to push Amy away, definitely with more force than a cake walk required.
She reached for Jake’s hand, but Omar batted her away. “I’ve got your boy,” he said. “Jake, you look like a man who knows a thing or two about ring tossing…” And they faded into the crowd.
When Mrs. Hernandes released her from the cake walk – “Uptown Funk” was going to be playing in her head for the rest of her life – Amy wandered back over to the game booths, and found Jake easily enough. The ring toss was surrounded by kids five or six deep, and when she squirmed her way to the front she couldn’t even manage surprise at what she saw. Jake and Omar stood side by side, fire in their eyes and plastic rings in hand as a bedraggled looking volunteer straightened the lines of two-liter bottles they would be aiming for.
“Best of ten tosses,” Omar said.
Jake narrowed his eyes and smirked, and Amy instantly recognized his game face. “I win, I get to date your sister.”
“Hey!” Amy said.
“Oh hey, babe,” Jake said cheerfully, grinning at her before returning his stony stare to Omar.
Omar glowered and said, “I win, you still get to date my sister and you have to play Santa Claus at my kids’ Christmas pageant.”
They shook on it, and Amy honestly was so embarrassed for both of them that she couldn’t bear to watch.
“The trophy is going to see if they need any help with the puppet show,” Amy said, and squeezed her way back through the crowd. She rolled her eyes as the kids erupted into cheers when someone scored a point.
Part 4: Ivan
Amy ate lunch with a few of her old neighbors, laughing over plates of carnitas as she got caught up on all the gossip on the kids she’d grown up with. After, she figured it was about time to hunt down Jake again and make sure he hadn’t been handcuffed to a lamppost by one of her brothers as a prank. She shivered at the recollection of the Carnival ‘03 Incident.
She’d gone two circuits of the carnival, and was starting to get concerned that he’d been smuggled off-site, before she found him – and did an immediate double-take. He was in the face-painting booth, eyes narrowed as he carefully traced the delicate, unmistakable lines of a butterfly wing on the cheek of a little boy. Jake was intensely focused, his tongue stuck in one corner of his mouth, hand holding the child’s head in place while he worked. It was sweet to see him so attentive, but that wasn’t what had caught Amy’s eye.
It was the pink unicorn painted on one of Jake’s cheeks, with a rainbow of poop shooting out of its butt and across his forehead.
Amy smacked her hand over her mouth to keep from laughing out loud. Her only option was a hasty retreat. She backed up a few steps, careful not to draw his attention, then spun on her heel and prepared to make a run for it. Only she ran smack into Ivan, the tallest and widest of her brothers. He caught her around the forearms and steadied her when she bounced right of his chest.
“Whoa, where you off to so fast?” Ivan said.
Amy looked back over her shoulder at Jake, but he was still working on his butterfly. Her eyes watered from the effort of not laughing.
“I have to help with the, uh, thing,” Amy said, waving her hand vaguely. She was glad Ivan was not the brightest of her brothers.
“Okay, just look where you’re going,” he said, and Amy nodded vigorously.
She started to walk away, but turned after a moment and said, “Ivan, what do you think about Jake?”
Ivan looked back into the tent at Jake, and shrugged. “Seems like a good guy. He’s kind of a shitty face painter, though.”
Part 5: Tony
“Amy! Hey, Amy! Santiago!”
Amy looked up from the table where she was making beaded friendship bracelets with a group of 9-year-old girls. Tony was poking his head through the back of the craft tent.
“What’s up?”
“Your boyfriend, does he have any allergies?”
Amy frowned and narrowed her eyes at him. “Bees,” she said.
“Okay, but no, like, food allergies?”
“Not that I know of,” Amy said.
“Does he have a heart condition?” Amy shook her head. “What about phobias? Fear of heights? Enclosed spaces? How is he with spiders?”
“Tony-”
“Oh! There he is. Later, sis!”
Tony disappeared and Amy wondered if she should follow him.
“I think your boyfriend might be in trouble,” one of the 9-year-olds said.
Amy propped her chin in her hand and nodded.
“Do you think he’ll break up with you if he gets bit by a spider?” another 9-year-old said.
“No, he’d probably think that’s really cool,” Amy said.
The girls all nodded sagely.
“Boys,” one said.
“Men,” Amy said, and knotted a new bracelet for Jake.
Part 6: Eddie
She wasn’t dumb or naïve. She’d expected her brothers to run Jake through the gauntlet at the annual carnival. She just hadn’t expected to see him sitting atop a pony that her 3-year-old nephew was pulling along by a rope.
“Isn’t he a little big for the pony?” Amy said to Eddie, who was leaning against the fenced enclosure and chewing on a blade of hay.
“Mason was scared so Jake offered to show him it was no big deal,” Eddie said.
Amy nodded and hoped that Mason didn’t noticed the white-knuckled grip Jake had on the saddle horn. At least it was a large pony – she thought it might actually be a small horse – so Jake probably wasn’t going to break its back. That would really freak out the children. Amy dug her phone out of her jacket pocket and debated briefly over whether to take photos or video, before deciding on both.
“Jake’s all right,” Eddie said, after the pony had trotted a few loops.
Amy slipped her phone back in her pocket and crossed her arms over the top of the fence, and hummed her agreement. Jake was the first boyfriend she’d brought to one of these carnivals, and though she’d been nervous for him because her brothers were all competitive jerks (she loved them, really), she hadn’t doubted for a second that they would like him. Her parents were going to be the real test.
When Mason finally called the pony to a stop with a very firm “whoa,” Jake slid off the animal’s back and walked a bit bow-legged to where they were watching.
“Nice riding, cowboy,” Amy said, grinning up at him. The pooping unicorn paint-job was still in remarkably good shape.
Jake kissed her on the cheek and tilted his head to one side to say in her ear, “If you tell anyone-”
“I already sent the photos to Gina.”
She kissed the corner of his mouth and backed up with a little wave.
“You’re a demon!” Jake called after her. “A harvest demon! That’s a thing!”
Amy blew him a kiss as Eddie threw an arm over his shoulder and pulled him back to the ponies.
Part 7: David
Amy was sipping Mexican hot chocolate, watching the older couples dancing as the sun started to set and everything was turning golden and a little fuzzy around the edges, when Manny sidled up next to her and gave her a one-armed hug. She knew they were both thinking about their parents, and how they’d always closed down the carnival dancing, until they were the only couple left on the floor. When Amy was a child, the carnival wasn’t over until Victor dipped Camila and kissed her in front of everyone, and all the old men and women whistled and cheered and the kids groaned, and finally the last of the colored lights strung up and down the blocks were turned off.
“Where’s Jake?” she said to Manny, after they’d watched in silence for a while.
Manny fumbled in his jeans pocket and pulled out his phone. “According to the group text, he’s in the first aid tent with David.”
“Group text?” Amy said with a frown. “I haven’t had anything on the group text all day.”
“Oh, right.” Manny scratched the back of his neck, looking sheepish. “Uh-”
“Oh my god. I’m not on this group text,” Amy said, a cold realization washing over her. “You guys really are trying to break my boyfriend.”
“Not break!” Manny said, throwing his hands up. “Just, you know, bend. A little.”
Amy groaned and rolled her eyes. “You guys are aware that it’s 2015 and I’m in my 30s and basically half of you are younger than me, right?”
“Yeah, we know-”
“Also, Jake can handle whatever you losers throw at him so bring it,” Amy said, and downed the rest of her hot chocolate. “And yes, I know I’m being a hypocrite but I’ve got the moral high ground here.”
She gave Manny a quick hug and punched him – hard – in the shoulder and took off for the first aid tent. Though David was probably the least likely of her brothers to cause physical damage to Jake, she was still deeply unsettled by the idea of them spending time alone together. Amy knew she was being just a little bit hysterical, but still: What if Jake liked David more than he liked her?
As Amy neared the back of the tent, she heard David before she saw him. “And now you peel off the plastic strip – no, not both sides at once! Wait, here, let me-”
“I know how to put on a Band-Aid,” said Jake.
“But there’s the correct way and there’s the way that lets flesh-eating bacteria fester,” said David.
The sudden loud sob of a child cut off the rest of their conversation. Amy smirked to herself and poked her head into a break between tent flaps. Jake was crouched beside a chair, and a curly-haired little boy was clinging to him like a monkey, face buried in Jake’s shoulder. David stood over them, cleaning his hands with a disinfectant wipe.
“I’ll radio the on-duty officers and see if they’ve had any luck finding his mom,” David said and headed toward the front of the tent.
“Yeah, you do that,” Jake muttered. He stood with the child still hanging off him, then settled himself in the chair and arranged the kid so he was curled on his lap. The boy looked like he was 4 or 5, and he had a fresh bandage on one knee and tears smudging the tiger stripes painted on his face.
“What’s flesh-eating bacteria?” the boy said with a hiccup.
Jake stroked a palm over the boy’s hair and said, “It’s like cooties, but for adults. And don’t tell anyone, okay, but that guy? He’s covered in flesh-eating bacteria.”
“Is that why his face looks so stuck up?” the boy said. Amy had to stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from laughing out loud.
“Yep,” Jake said, patting the kid on top of the head. “You’ve got it.”
Jake and the kid made up a long, complicated, very detailed story about the origin of flesh-eating bacteria and how David got it. Amy watched them until the boy’s mom showed up, and he gave Jake a hug and made Jake kiss his knee. Both of her legs were asleep by the time she stood up and limped off to her next volunteer assignment. It was worth it.
Part 8: Manny
“There’s no way I can do this, Ames. I give up!”
“Oh- well, okay. You want to go home then?” Amy tried to keep the disappointment out of her voice. He’d been doing so well.
“What? No! I meant how am I supposed to pick a winner when they all look the same?” He gestured desperately at the costumed kids lining up on the parade route. “There are like 20 Jedi knights out there!”
“Oh yeah,” Amy said, peering over his shoulder.
Jake had been “randomly selected” as the sole judge of this year’s costume contest – the main event of the carnival for the neighborhood kids. (It was one of the holdovers from the earliest carnivals, which had always taken place around Halloween. The year they’d moved the carnival into mid-November they’d canceled the contest, and the kids had revolted. Nick, the youngest of the Santiagos and the only one still dressing up for Halloween, had led the riots.) Manny had told Jake that costume judge was a position of high honor as he placed the paper crown on Jake’s head. But Amy could tell Jake wasn’t buying it.
Indeed, it was a vastly unenviable job. There were three dozen eager, doe-eyed 3- to 10-year-olds vying for the prize. And 11 of them were Santiagos.
“You know, back when I was a kid we valued creativity,” Jake said, still staring down the Jedis.
“Oh yeah?” said Manny, who was half-heartedly trying to get the kids to line up by height. “And what’d you dress up for Halloween?”
“Are you sure you weren’t John McClane very year?” Amy said.
“I will give you ages 7 through 14,” Jake said.
“Fourteen?” Amy said, horrified.
“I meant 10,” Jake said. “Anyway. Before that I was a scarecrow-”
“Cute,” Amy said.
“E.T.”
“Adorable,” Manny said.
“Airline pilot.”
“Oh, that’s sad,” Amy said.
“Yeah. Then the next year I was George Michael.”
“Wait-” Amy said. “What?” Manny said.
“I was 6 and my mom was going through some stuff and listening to a lot of ‘Careless Whisper’ and you know what, never mind,” Jake said.
Someone blew a whistle then, loud enough to make a bunch of kids start crying. Amy wasn’t surprised to see David was the source – he was waving his arms wildly at Manny, clearly annoyed by the chaos on the parade line. Amy kissed Jake on the (non-unicorn) cheek and wished him good luck, and took her place with the rest of the volunteers wrangling kids. Jake sat alone on a folding chair that had been draped in fake orange velvet, with crepe-paper autumn leaves stapled all over. The costume judge was also deemed the carnival king (or queen), though Amy didn’t think anyone had told Jake that. They also probably hadn’t told him that when the judging was over he’d be manhandled to the official pie-throwing wall, which was sort of self-explanatory. Amy quickly checked her phone to make sure she had plenty of storage.
“Monster Mash” suddenly blasted out over the speakers mounted around the parade block and the first kids marched off in front of Jake. Amy stepped back and watched with a grin as Jake sat straight in his chair, the same focus in his eyes that she’d seen a hundred times when he was surveying a crime scene, not missing a thing. Manny came up on one side of her and Omar on the other, and she felt more than saw them make eye contact over the top of her head.
“Stop talking about me,” she said, nudging them both with her elbows.
“I’m just saying, if he doesn’t pick Matthew, your boy’s in trouble,” Omar said.
“Oh please,” Amy said, “that little Taylor Swift’s got it in the bag.”
Part 9: Amy
Amy toed off her sneakers and climbed through the flap of the bounce house. It was well past dark, but in the dim, checkered light cast by the streetlamps, she had no problem making out Jake, sprawled spread eagle in the middle of the plastic floor. His eyes were closed, and tufts of whipped cream still clung to his curls, and though most of the painted unicorn was long gone she could still make out a smudge of rainbow poop across his brow.
She smiled to herself and crawled toward him, the inflated structure squeaking and wobbling under her weight. She stretched out beside him, and rested her head against his chest. He smelled like ponies and apple cider and sweet-rotten pumpkin and barbecue – like all of her best childhood memories. When he lifted a hand to stroke back her hair, she saw that he had about a dozen friendship bracelets on his arm, and a gauze bandage wrapped carelessly around his palm.
“Did I pass?” he said, voice still a bit croaky after all the yelling during the pie-throwing.
“With flying colors,” Amy said, and snuggled deeper into his side. She took his hand and kissed the palm, not sure if she wanted to know what had happened there. “Are you okay?”
“Hm,” he hummed, and she glanced up to see that he was smiling.
Amy let them lie there for a while, listening to the faint, familiar strains of bossa nova and imagining the couples dancing under the fairy lights. Maybe one day she and Jake would be one of those old couples, closing down the carnival while their sleepy children watched quietly and drank the last of the hot chocolate. She knew she was getting way ahead of herself – they’d only been dating a couple of months, after all – but she let herself indulge in the fantasy, just for now.
When she finally started to get cold, and she could hear the calls of volunteers tearing down tents, she sat up slowly and kissed Jake on a clean spot on his forehead, and then again on the mouth. She couldn’t resist lingering there, lips parting without a thought. She felt his sigh as he opened his mouth to her, letting her in. She was just starting to get warmed up when she went to run her fingers through his hair and got caught in a sticky tangle of sugar-coated curls. Amy chuckled into his mouth and pulled away.
“Come on,” she said, wiping her hand on her jeans, “let’s go home.”
He groaned sleepily and said, “This bounce house is home, Ames. I live here now.”
Amy laughed and tugged on both of his hands until he reluctantly sat up. “That new mattress isn’t going to break itself in, you know.”
At that Jake ducked his head and laughed, and they both clambered awkwardly out of the house, and crouched to slide their shoes back on. Amy took his hand again and led him away from the lights and the noise of the clean-up crews – she figured they’d earned an early exit.
“Next year I think I’ll just stick with the ring toss. Maybe face-painting if I can get Ivan to teach me how to do a dragon,” Jake said.
“Next year?” Amy said.
“Yeah,” Jake said, looping his arm over her shoulders. “And next year, David is carnival king.”
THE END
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Tour// Youtuber!You/5H
Lol I couldn’t help but put that last one it is hilarious.
"Well hello internet, welcome back to Sunday Fun Day," you wave at the camera, sitting on your bed, "I know you're all probably wondering why I'm on my bed and not in my office and the answer is...well I was just too lazy to leave my room!"
You shrug, grinning at the camera, "I'm filming this on a Saturday because by the time you see this, it will be Sunday but I'll be too busy filming for my main channel to actually vlog. Things are about to get really crazy on that channel and I need to prepare everything in advance!"
You reach over and grab the black beanie sitting to your left with a grin, and put it on, "by the way, how cute is this fucking beanie? Lolo gave it to me yesterday before the girls left for tour," you pout at the camera, "I miss them already!"
With a sigh you get back to the point of the video, "so, as you guys already know, my beautiful, talented, sexy, amazing...what was I talking about again," you trail off, thinking about the girls.
"Oh, right! My girlfriends are starting girlfriend on Monday, and I'm gonna miss them so fucking much," you sigh, before grinning again, "or, I would be missing them if I wasn't going on tour with them! Soo...this is basically the big surprise I've been dying to tell you guys! My manager had to work a lot of stuff out, and then there was the whole travel situation and blah, blah, blah more adult stuff. But, everything was finalized last night, and I'll be catching a flight Sunday morning to meet them."
You bounce a little on the bed, your smile wide from happiness, "Just two more days and I get to cuddle with the hottest girls ever. It's ok, you're allowed to be jealous."
You grab the camera and start walking from your bedroom, "in the meantime, I'm gonna be hanging with a few Youtuber friends that are in town so you should enjoy that at least. I know you're all excited about seeing the girls and everything, so be sure to subscribe to my main channel and this channel for updates daily! Love you guys!"
You turn off the camera, and get put it in your office. After making sure you have everything set up for when people come over, you head upstairs to take a shower and get dressed. Since there was a chance you might be going out you decided on something casual but still pretty hot. You don't usually dress to impress, but when you do, you go all out!
In the end you decided on a white crop top that showed off the abs you spent countless hours in the gym to get, low ride black skinny jeans that showed off the V-line that had people drooling over you with a black and red flannel tied around your waist and some black combat boots. For your hair, you decided to leave it long and wavy, not wanting to spend an hour straightening it. To finish off the whole look, you decided to wear a red snapback Dinah gave you for your birthday. Glancing at yourself in your full sized mirror you gave yourself a nod of approval.
It was still odd to think that before you met the girls you were so insecure about your looks. Everything changed whwn they came along, and now you know you look good, but you're not cocky about it! You took a few selfies and picked the best one to post on Twitter.
@(Y/T/H): Baby I'm worth it
*insert selfie here*
Immediately people started retweeting and favoriting the picture, and you laughed when you saw that the girls had tweeted you about the picture.
@dinahjane97: DAAAAAMMMNNNNN @(Y/T/H) YOU LOOK HOT AS EFF
@NormaniKordei: That is so not fair @(Y/T/H)! Where was that outfit yesterday when you were with me?
@camilacabello97: Holy bananas! I call dibs on first kiss when @(Y/T/H) gets here!
@(Y/T/H): There's plenty of me to go around babe.
You closed the twitter app, laughing to yourself as you heard the front door. Scooting along the wooden floors on you socks, you oppened the door to see your favorite person ever Jenna Marbles.
"Jensters! Catch me," you yell, jumping into her arms with your legs wrapped around her waist.
Behind you, her boyfriend Juilen is filming you both with his phone, "see? Every time these two get together I know they're having a love affair. They don't even try to hide it!"
"You're just jealous because I gave your girlfriend lady wood," you grin at Juilen and stick your tongue out at his camera.
"It's so true," Jenna turns to face the camera, meaning that they can only see your back and ass as she holds you up, "I have the biggest boner right now. I mean look at dat ass!"
"It is a nice ass," Juilen agrees with a shrug, as you finally get down.
"Ok, I'm done. Jenna's dick was getting annoying while it poked me," you winked at the camera, before grabbing your own.
"Ok guys so Jenna and Juilen are here, and as you can see, they are both already being idiots," you turn the camera to show Jenna sitting on the couch with Juilen on his knees begging her for something.
"Please don't do this Jenna! I know (Y/N) is the hottest person alive, but don't leave me for her," He begs, holding her foot.
"I'm sorry Juilen, but no one gets my dick harder than (Y/N)," Jenna says dramatically, "It's not you, It's my dick."
"You said dick like a million times since you've been here," you turn the camera back to yourself, "which by the way is about 3 minutes."
"You know you like this girl," Jenna said with a fake thug accent, puckering her lips.
"Um....so anyway," you change the subject.
"OHHH REJECTED," Juilen yells, "IN YO FACE JENNA!"
"I'm surrounded by fools," I sigh, shaking my head.
You stopped filming for a while and soon after Lily Singh and Tyler Oakley showed up. You guys were all cuddled up on the couch, when Jenna decided it was a good idea to eat grapes out of your belly button after realizing it was the perfect size to hold a grape. Juilen took your camera and started filming you guys.
"So this is what happens when Youtubers get together," he points the camera at you, "Jenna is eating grapes out of (Y/N) belly button and Lily and Tyler are feeding her grapes like she's some Greek Goddes."
"Don't be jealous, Juilen, cuz I gets all the bitches!"
"You better not let your girlfriends hear you say that," Tyler laughs, taking your grape and eating it.
"Pfft they know I'm joking," you roll your eyes, going back to the movie.
A bit later, while everything had calmed down, you were all editing on your laptops and realized that you had enough footage left over to post this Vlog today and one for tomorrow and Monday. With a shrug, you finish editing and decide to post it tomorrow just in case you need the extra footage and went to sleep.
######
The next morning you woke to Jenna sitting on you, "wake the fuck up and look at this!"
"Fuck you," you mumbled, rolling over.
"I'm serious, look at this puppy it's so cute oh my god," she shoved the phone in your face.
"Jenna, please get your phone out of my face it smells like vegan bacon and it's making me sick," you grumble, turning away.
"Don't hate on the vegan bacon," she sassed, before shaking you again, "come on, we already put your bags in the car. Don't you wanna see your baes?"
"Yes," you pout, opening your eyes to look at her, "carry me?"
"Uh, no! Hurry up," she shoves you, getting up from the bed.
######
"Ok so I'm getting ready to head to the airport, and Jenna and Lily are gonna take me and then I'm letting them use my car and place while I'm gone," you yawn, getting into the passenger seat.
"Hey guys," Lily smiled from the back seat.
"I just texted the girls, and let them know I'm on the way," you grin, "we're gonna do a prank on Camila and tell her that my flight was delayed by 12 hours. I just texted her and she sent me crying banana emoji that I had no idea existed."
"Girl, she gonna kill you," Lily laughed, "film it!"
"Oh sure, I'll totally film my girlfriend murdering me. Totally."
"I'd watch it," Jenna smirked.
"You would," you glare at her, "anyway I'll see you guys later, love you!"
######
"Boo!"
You felt Dinah jump into your arms, and you immediately held onto her before she fell, "hi, baby."
"I missed you," she grinned, pulling you in for a kiss.
"You saw her yesterday," Lauren rolled her eyes, "now move so I can have my kiss."
"Be nice," you grinned, letting Dinah down so that you could give Lauren a kiss.
She wrapped her arms around your neck and pulled you down for a deep kiss. You groaned at the feel of her lips and pulled her body closer to yours. Before you could deepen the kiss, you felt something cold and wet being tossed on you. You pulled away with a gasp to see Ally flinging water on you from a bottle labeled 'Holy Water'.
"In the name of The Father, The Son and The Holy Spirit," she yelled, "forgive them for their sins for they know not what they do, Jesus!"
"Ally what the fuck," you ask, completely shocked.
"Dawg she got legit holy water," Dinah laughed, pointing at Ally as Normani held her up.
"Sorry?"
Ally bit her lip, batting her eyelashes at you as she gave you her best puppy dog eyes. You groan, looking away from her stare as you attempted to remain even a little angry. You failed, of course. It's Ally.
"I can't believe you did that! I just got my hair done," Lauren glared at her, and Ally hid behind Dinah, who was still laughing.
"Calm down, Lo. We'll get her back later," you promise, walking over to Normani and Dinah.
"Hey pretty girl," you lean in and give Normani a kiss, and drop a quick one on Ally's lips.
"Shit, I forgot to-"
"Guys, where did you all go- Baby?"
Everyone turns to see Camila enter the room, her eyes red and puffy, with the stuffed banana you gave her cuddled in her arms. Her eyes were wide as she realized that you were here, before she dropped the banana and jumped into your arms. She was more lightweight than Dinah, but the force of her slamming into you nearly made you fall.
"I missed you, I missed you, I missed you," she mumbled over and over, placing kisses all over your face.
"Hey, I'm here now. I'm not going anywhere," you give her a proper kiss, "why were you crying?"
"Because you said you weren't gonna be here until basically tomorrow! You lied to me, you puta!"
She playfully smacked your arm, glaring at you. Behind you, you see Normani filming everything with her phone, which makes you smile. She knows that you like to vlog everything and you still haven't taken your camera from it's bag yet.
"I'm sorry, it was a prank! It was Dinah's idea," you blame everything on Dinah, who glares at you.
"Bitch what," she glares, crossing her arms.
"Language!"
She turns her glare on to Ally, who is still hiding behind her. Ally offers her a sheepish grin, kissing her cheek in apology.
"You betta run, (Y/N)," Normani cautions, as she sees Dinah glaring at you with Camila.
You take off running down the hall, laughing as you hear them following behind you.
######
"(Y/N) what the hell is this?"
"Lauren, watch your mouth-" Ally walks into the living area of the hotel, before looking at her laptop, "what the hell is this?!"
"What are you," you glance at the laptop and see a picture of you and Jenna in a very...compromising position, "oooh. That..."
"Oh that? What the fuck is this," Lauren glares at you.
"It's not what it looks like?"
"It looks like I'm gonna have to give Jenna a Poly Beatdown for putting her lips on my girl's body," Dinah comes into the room with a glare and her cellphone.
"She was just eating grapes out of my belly button," you defend yourself, "ok that sounds bad."
"Is that what you want," Camila questions, coming into the room with Normani, "is it because she likes grapes? I can't help my love for bananas, and I love you almost as much as I love bananas!"
"Mila, what...you know what, ignore her," Normani give Camila an odd look, "I'm more worried about that bitch putting her lips on my boo."
You look around, realizing you're surrounded, "fuck."
#5h imagines#fifth harmony imagine#lesbian imagines#BentDownSpoon#camila cabello#lauren jauregui#dinah jane imagines#dinah jane#Normani Kordei#jenna marbles#tyler oakley#celebrity imagine
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Chapter 2
Her tie was silver and her shirt brilliantly white, the stark absence of color emphasizing those amazing green irises. Standing there with her jacket open and her hands shoved casually into her pants’ pockets, the sight of her was like running smack into a wall I hadn’t known was there.
I jerked to a halt, my gaze riveted to the woman who was even more striking than I’d remembered. I had never seen hair that purely black. It was glossy and slightly long, the ends drifting over her shoulder. That sexy length was the crowning touch of bad boy hotness over the successful businessman, like whipped cream topping on a hot fudge brownie sundae. As my mother would say, only rogues and raiders had hair like that.
My hands clenched against the urge to touch it, to see if it felt like the rich silk it resembled.
The doors began to close. She took an easy step forward and pressed a button on the panel to hold them open. “There’s plenty of room for both of us, Camila.”
The sound of that smoky, implacable voice broke me out of my momentary daze. How did she know my name?
Then I remembered that she’d picked up my ID card when I’d dropped it in the lobby. For a second, I debated telling her I was waiting for someone so I could take another car down, but my brain lurched back into action.
What the hell was wrong with me? Clearly she worked in the Crossfire. I couldn’t avoid her every time I saw her and why should I? If I wanted to get to the point where I could look at her and take her hotness for granted, I needed to see her often enough that she became like furniture.
Ha! If only.
I stepped into the car. “Thank you.”
She released the button and stepped back again. The doors closed and the elevator began its descent.
I immediately regretted my decision to share the car with her.
Awareness of her prickled across my skin. She was a potent force in such a small enclosure, radiating a palpable energy and sexual magnetism that had me shifting restlessly on my feet. My breathing became as ragged as my heartbeat. I felt that inexplicable pull to her again, as if he exuded a silent demand that I was instinctively attuned to answering.
“Enjoy your first day?” she asked, startling me.
Her voice resonated, flowing over me in a seductive rhythm. How the hell did she know it was my first day?
“Yes, actually,” I answered evenly. “How was yours?”
I felt her gaze slide over my profile, but I kept my attention trained on the brushed aluminum elevator doors. My heart was racing in my chest, my stomach quivering madly. I felt jumbled and off my game.
“Well, it wasn’t my first,” she replied with a hint of amusement. “But it was successful. And getting better as it progresses.”
I nodded and managed a smile, having no idea what that was supposed to mean. The car slowed on the twelfth floor and a friendly group of three got on, talking excitedly among themselves. I stepped back to make room for them, retreating into the opposite corner of the elevator from Dark and Dangerous. Except she sidestepped along with me. We were suddenly closer than we’d been before.
she adjusted her perfectly knotted tie, her arm brushing against mine as she did so. I sucked in a deep breath, trying to ignore my acute awareness of her by concentrating on the conversation taking place in front of us. It was impossible. She was just so there. Right there. All perfect and gorgeous and smelling divine. My thoughts ran away from me, fantasizing about how hard her body might be beneath the suit, how it might feel against me, how well-endowed—or not—she might be…
When the car reached the lobby, I almost moaned in relief. I waited impatiently as the elevator emptied and the first chance I got, I took a step forward. Her hand settled firmly at the small of my back and she walked out beside me, steering me. The sensation of her touch on such a vulnerable place rippled through me.
We reached the turnstiles and her hand fell away, leaving me feeling oddly bereft. I glanced at her, trying to read her, but although she was looking at me, her face gave nothing away.
“Camila!”
The sight of Cary lounging casually against a marble column in the lobby shifted everything. He was wearing jeans that showcased his mile-long legs and an oversized sweater in soft green that emphasized his eyes. He easily drew the attention of everyone in the lobby. I slowed as I approached him and the sex god passed us, moving through the revolving door and sliding fluidly into the back of the chauffeured black Bentley SUV I’d seen at the curb the evening before.
Cary whistled as the car pulled away. “Well, well. From the way you were looking at her, that was the girl you told me about, right?”
“Oh, yeah. That was definitely her.”
“You work together?” Linking arms with me, Cary tugged me out to the street through the stationary door.
“No.” I stopped on the sidewalk to change into my walking flats, leaning into him as pedestrians flowed around us. “I don’t know who she is, but she asked me if I’d had a good first day, so I better figure it out.”
“Well…” He grinned and supported my elbow as I hopped awkwardly from one foot to the other. “No idea how anyone could get any work done around her. My brain sort of fried for a minute.”
“I’m sure that’s a universal effect.” I straightened. “Let’s go. I need a drink.”
The next morning arrived with a slight throbbing at the back of my skull that mocked me for having one too many glasses of wine. Still, as I rode the elevator up to the twentieth floor, I didn’t regret the hangover as much as I should have. My choices were either too much alcohol or a whirl with my vibrator, and I was damned if I’d have a battery-provided orgasm starring Dark and Dangerous. Not that she’d know or even care that she made me so horny I couldn’t see straight, but I’d know and I didn’t want to give the fantasy of her the satisfaction.
I dropped my stuff in the bottom drawer of my desk and when I saw that Mark wasn’t in yet, I grabbed a cup of coffee and returned to my cubicle to catch up on my new favorite ad-biz blogs.
“Camila!”
I jumped when he appeared beside me, his grin a flash of white against his smooth dark skin. “Good morning, Mark.”
“Is it ever. You’re my lucky charm, I think. Come into my office. Bring your tablet. Can you work late tonight?”
I followed him over, catching on to his excitement. “Sure.”
“I’d hoped you’d say that.” He sank into his chair.
I took the one I’d sat in the day before and quickly opened a notepad program.
“So,” he began, “we’ve received an RFP for Kingsman Vodka and they mentioned me by name. First time that’s ever happened.”
“Congratulations!”
“I appreciate that, but let’s save them for when we’ve actually landed the account. We’ll still have to bid, if we get past the request for proposal stage, and they want to meet with me tomorrow evening.”
“Wow. Is that timeline usual?”
“No. Usually they’d wait until we had the RFP finished before meeting with us, but Cross Industries recently acquired Kingsman and C.I. has dozens of subsidiaries. That’s good business if we can get it. They know it and they’re making us jump through hoops, the first of which is meeting with me.”
“Usually there would be a team, right?”
“Yes, we’d present as a group. But they’re familiar with the drill—they know they’ll get the pitch from a senior executive, then end up working with a junior like me—so they picked me out and now they want to vet me. But to be fair, the RFP provides a lot more information than it asks for in return. It’s as good as a brief, so I really can’t accuse them of being unreasonably demanding, just meticulous. Par for the course when dealing with Cross Industries.”
He ran a hand over his tight curls, betraying the pressure he felt. “What do you think of Kingsman vodka?”
“Uh…well…Honestly, I’ve never heard of it.”
Mark fell back in his chair and laughed. “Thank God. I thought I was the only one. Well, the plus side is there’s no bad press to get over. No news can be good news.”
“What can I do to help? Besides research vodka and stay late?”
His lips pursed a moment as he thought about it. “Jot this down…”
We worked straight through lunch and long after the office had emptied, going over some initial data from the strategists. It was a little after seven when Mark’s smartphone rang, startling me with its abrupt intrusion into the quiet.
Mark activated the speaker and kept working. “Hey, baby.”
“Have you fed that poor girl yet?” demanded a warm masculine voice over the line.
Glancing at me through his glass office wall, Mark said, “Ah…I forgot.”
I looked away quickly, biting my lower lip to hide my smile.
I looked away quickly, biting my lower lip to hide my smile.
A snort came clearly across the line. “Only two days on the job, and you’re already overworking her and starving her to death. She’s going to quit.”
“Shit. You’re right. Steve, honey—”
“Don’t ‘Steve honey’ me. Does she like Chinese?”
I gave Mark the thumbs-up.
He grinned. “Yes, she does.”
“All right. I’ll be there in twenty. Let security know I’m coming.”
Almost exactly twenty minutes later, I buzzed Steven Ellison through the waiting area doors. He was a juggernaut of a fellow, dressed in dark jeans, scuffed work boots, and a neatly pressed button-down shirt. Red-haired with laughing blue eyes, he was as good-looking as his partner was, just in a very different way. The three of us sat around Mark’s desk and dumped kung pao chicken and broccoli beef onto paper plates, added helpings of sticky white rice, and then dug in with chopsticks.
I discovered that Steven was a contractor, and that he and Mark had been a couple since college. I watched them interact and felt awe and a dash of envy. Their relationship was so beautifully functional that it was a joy to spend time with them.
“Damn, girl,” Steven said with a whistle, as I went for a third helping. “You can put it away. Where does it go?”
I shrugged. “To the gym with me. Maybe that helps…?”
“Don’t mind him,” Mark said, grinning. “Steven’s just jealous. He has to watch his girlish figure.”
“Hell.” Steven shot his partner a wry look. “I might have to take her out to lunch with the crew. I could win money betting on how much she can eat.”
I smiled. “That could be fun.”
“Ha. I knew you had a bit of a wild streak. It’s in your smile.”
Looking down at my food, I refused to let my mind wander into memories of just how wild I’d been in my rebellious, self-destructive phase.
Mark saved me. “Don’t harass my assistant. And what do you know about wild women anyway?”
“I know some of them like hanging out with gay men. They like our perspective.” His grin flashed. “I know a few other things, too. Hey…don’t look so shocked, you two. I wanted to see if hetero sex lived up to the hype.”
Clearly this was news to Mark, but from the twitching of his lips, he was secure enough in their relationship to find the whole exchange amusing. “Oh?”
“How’d that work out for you?” I asked bravely.
Steven shrugged. “I don’t want to say it’s overrated, ’cause clearly I’m the wrong demographic and I had a very limited sampling, but I can do without.”
I thought it was very telling that Steven could relate his story in terms Mark worked with. They shared their careers with each other and listened, even though their chosen fields were miles apart.
“Considering your present living arrangement,” Mark said to him, catching up a stem of broccoli with his chopsticks, “I’d say that’s a very good thing.”
By the time we finished eating, it was eight and the cleaning crew had arrived. Mark insisted on calling me a cab.
“Should I come in early tomorrow?” I asked.
Steven bumped shoulders with Mark. “You must’ve done something good in a past life to score this one.”
“I think putting up with you in this life qualifies,” Mark said dryly.
“Hey,” Steven protested, “I’m housebroken. I put the toilet seat down.”
Mark shot me an exasperated look that was warm with affection for his partner. “And that’s helpful how?”
Mark and I scrambled all day Thursday to get ready for his four o’clock with the team from Kingsman. We grabbed an information-packed lunch with the two creatives who would be participating in the pitch when it got to that point in the process; then we went over the notes on Kingsman’s Web presence and existing social media outreach.
I got a little nervous when three thirty rolled around because I knew traffic would be a bitch, but Mark kept working after I pointed out the time. It was quarter to four before he bounded out of his office with a broad smile, still shrugging into his jacket. “Join me, Camila.”
I blinked up at him from my desk. “Really?”
“Hey, you worked hard on helping me prep. Don't you want to see how it goes?”
“Yes, absolutely.” I pushed to my feet. Knowing my appearance would be a reflection on my boss, I smoothed my black pencil skirt and straightened the cuffs of my long-sleeved silk blouse. By a random twist of fate, my crimson shirt perfectly matched Mark’s tie. “Thank you.”
We headed out to the elevators and I was briefly startled when the car went up instead of down. When we reached the top floor, the waiting area we stepped into was considerably larger and more ornate than the one on the twentieth. Hanging baskets of ferns and lilies fragranced the air and a smoky glass security entrance was sandblasted with Cross Industries in a bold, masculine font.
We were buzzed in, and then asked to wait a moment. Both of us declined an offer of water or coffee, and less than five minutes after we arrived, we were directed to a closed conference room.
Mark looked at me with twinkling eyes as the receptionist reached for the door handle. “Ready?”
I smiled. “Ready.”
The door opened and I gestured in first. I made sure to smile brightly as I stepped inside…a smile that froze on my face at the sight of the woman rising to her feet at my entrance.
My abrupt stop bottlenecked the threshold and Mark ran into my back, sending me stumbling forward. Dark and Dangerous caught me by the waist, hauling me off my feet and directly into her chest. The air left my lungs in a rush, followed immediately by every bit of common sense I possessed. Even through the layers of clothing between us, her biceps were like stone beneath my palms, her stomach a hard slab of muscle against my own. When she sucked in a sharp breath, my nipples tightened, stimulated by the expansion of her chest.
Oh no. I was cursed. A rapid-fire series of images flashed through my mind, showcasing a thousand ways I could stumble, fall, trip, skid, or crash in front of the sex god over the days, weeks, and months ahead.
“Hello again,” she murmured, the vibration of her voice making me ache all over. “Always a pleasure running into you, Camila.”
I flushed with embarrassment and desire, unable to find the will to push away despite the two other people in the room with her. It didn’t help that her attention was solely on me, her hard body radiating that arresting impression of powerful demand.
“Miss, Jauregui,” Mark said behind me. “Sorry about the entrance.”
“Don’t be. It was a memorable one.”
I wobbled on my stilettos when Jauregui set me down, my knees weakened from the full body contact. She was dressed in black again, with both her shirt and tie in a soft gray. As always, she looked too good.
What would it be like to be that amazing looking? There was no way she could go anywhere without causing a disturbance.
Reaching out, Mark steadied me and eased me back gently.
Jauregis' gaze stayed focused on Mark’s hand at my elbow until I was released.
“Right. Okay then.” Mark pulled himself together. “This is my assistant,
Camila Cabello.”
“We’ve met.” Jauregui pulled out the chair next to hers. “Camila.”
I looked to Mark for guidance, still recovering from the moments I’d spent plastered against the sexual superconductor in Fioravante.
Jauregui leaned closer and ordered quietly, “Sit, Camila.”
Mark gave a brief nod, but I was already lowering into the chair at Jauregui’s command, my body obeying instinctively before my mind caught up and objected.
I tried not to fidget for the next hour as Mark was grilled by Jauergui and the two Kingsman directors, both of whom were attractive brunettes in elegant pantsuits. The one in raspberry was especially enthusiastic about garnering Jauregui’s attention, while the one in cream focused intently on my boss. All three seemed impressed by Mark’s ability to articulate how the agency’s work—and his facilitation of it with the client—created provable value for the client’s brand.
I admired how cool Mark remained under pressure—pressure exerted by Jauregui, who easily dominated the meeting.
“Well done, Mr. Garrity,” Jauregui praised lightly as they wrapped things up. “I look forward to going over the RFP when the time comes. What would entice you to try Kingsman, Camila?”
Startled, I blinked. “Excuse me?”
The intensity of her gaze was searing. It felt as if her entire focus was on me, which only reinforced my respect for Mark, who’d had to work under the weight of that stare for an hour.
Jauregui’s chair was set perpendicular to the length of the table, facing me head-on. Her right arm rested on the smooth wooden surface, her long elegant fingers stroking rhythmically along the top. I caught a glimpse of her wrist at the end of her cuff and for some crazy reason the sight of that small expanse of golden skin with its light dusting of dark hair made my clit throb for attention. she was just so…womanly.
“Which of Mark’s suggested concepts do you prefer?” she asked again.
“I think they’re all brilliant.”
Her beautiful face was impassive when she said, “I’ll clear the room to get your honest opinion, if that’s what it takes.”
My fingers curled around the ends of my chair’s armrests. “I just gave you my honest opinion, Miss. Jauregui, but if you must know, I think sexy luxury on a budget will appeal to the largest demographic. But I lack—”
“I agree.” Jauregui stood and buttoned her jacket. “You have a direction, Mr. Garrity. We’ll revisit next week.”
I sat for a moment, stunned by the breakneck pace of events. Then I looked at Mark, who seemed to be wavering between astonished joy and bewilderment.
Rising to my feet, I led the way to the door. I was hyperaware of Jauregui walking beside me. The way she moved, with animal grace and arrogant economy, was a major turn-on. I couldn’t imagine her not fucking well and being aggressive about it, taking what she wanted in a way that made a woman wild to give it to her.
Jauregui stayed with me all the way to the bank of elevators. She said a few things to Mark about sports, I think, but I was too focused on the way I was reacting to her to care about the small talk. When the car arrived, I breathed a sigh of relief and hastily stepped forward with Mark.
“A moment, Camila,” Jauergui said smoothly, holding me back with a hand at my elbow. “She’ll be right down,” she told Mark, as the elevator doors closed on my boss’s astonished face.
Jauregui said nothing until the car was on its way down; then she pushed the call button again and asked, “Are you sleeping with anyone?”
The question was asked so casually it took a second to process what she’d said.
I inhaled sharply. “Why is that any business of yours?”
She looked at me and I saw what I’d seen the first time we’d met—tremendous power and steely control. Both of which had me taking an involuntary step back. Again. At least I didn’t fall this time; I was making progress.
“Because I want to fuck you, Camila. I need to know what’s standing in my way, if anything.”
The sudden ache between my thighs had me reaching for the wall to maintain my balance. She reached out to steady me, but I held her at bay with an uplifted hand. “Maybe I’m just not interested, Miss, Jauregui.”
A ghost of a smile touched her lips and made her impossibly more handsome. Dear God…
The ding that signaled the approaching elevator made me jump, I was strung so tight. I’d never been so aroused. Never been so scorchingly attracted to another human being. Never been so offended by a person I lusted after.
I stepped into the elevator and faced her.
She smiled. “Until next time, Camila.”
The doors closed and I sagged into the brass handrail, trying to regain my bearings. I’d barely pulled myself together when the doors opened and revealed Mark pacing in the waiting area on our floor.
“Jesus, Camila,” Mark muttered, coming to an abrupt halt. “What the hell was that?”
“I have no freakin’ clue.” I exhaled in a rush, wishing I could share the confusing, irritating exchange I’d had with Jauregui, but well aware that my boss wasn’t the appropriate outlet. “Who cares? You know she’s going to give you the account.”
A grin chased away his frown. “I’m thinking she might.”
“As my roommate always says, you should celebrate. Should I make dinner reservations for you and Steven?”
“Why not? Pure Food and Wine at seven, if they can squeeze us in. If not, surprise us.”
We’d barely returned to Mark’s office when he was pounced on by the executives—Michael Waters, the CEO and president, and Christine Field and Walter Leaman, the executive chairman and vice chairman.
I skirted the four of them as quietly as possible and slid into my cubicle.
I called Pure Food and Wine and begged for a table for two. After some serious groveling and pleading, the hostess finally caved.
I left a message on Mark’s voice mail, “It’s definitely your lucky day. You’re booked for dinner at seven. Have fun!”
Then I clocked out, eager to get home.
“She said what?” Cary sat on the opposite end of our white sectional sofa and shook his head.
“I know, right?” I enjoyed another sip of my wine. It was a crisp and nicely chilled sauvignon blanc I’d picked up on the walk home. “That was my reaction, too. I’m still not sure I didn’t hallucinate the conversation while overdosing on her pheromones.”
“So?”
I tucked my legs beneath me on the couch and leaned into the corner. “So what?”
“You know what, Camila.” Grabbing his netbook off the coffee table, Cary propped it on his crossed legs. “Are you going to tap that or what?”
“I don’t even know her. I don’t even know her first name and she threw that curveball at me.”
“She knew yours.” He started typing on his keyboard. “And what about the thing with the vodka? Asking for your boss in particular?”
The hand I was running through my loose hair stilled. “Mark is very talented. If Jauregui has any sort of business sense at all, she’d pick up on that and exploit it.”
“I’d say she knows business.” Cary spun his netbook around and showed me the home page of Cross Industries, which boasted an awesome photo of the Crossfire. “That’s her building, Camila. Lauren jauregui owns it.”
Damn it. My eyes closed. Lauren Jauregui. I thought the name suited her. It was as sexy and elegantly masculine as the woman himself.
“She has people to handle marketing for her subsidiaries. Probably dozens of people to handle it.”
“Stop talking, Cary”
“She’s hot, rich, and wants to jump your bones. What’s the problem?”
I looked at him. “It’s going to be awkward running into her all the time. I’m hoping to hang on to my job for a long while. I really like it. I really like Mark. He’s totally involved me in the process and I’ve learned so much from him already.”
“Remember what Dr. Travis says about calculated risks? When your shrink tells you to take some, you should take some. You can deal with it. You and Jauregui are both adults.” He turned his attention back to his Internet search. “Wow. Did you know she doesn’t turn thirty for another two years? Think of the stamina.”
“Think of the rudeness. I’m offended by how she just threw it out there. I hate feeling like a vagina with legs.”
Cary paused and looked up at me, his eyes softening with sympathy. “I’m sorry, baby girl. You’re so strong, so much stronger than I am. I just don’t see you carrying around the baggage I do.”
“I don’t think I am, most of the time.” I looked away because I didn’t want to talk about what we’d been through in our pasts. “It’s not like I wanted her to ask me out on a date. But there has to be a better way to tell a woman you want to take her to bed.”
“You’re right. She’s an arrogant douche. Let her lust after you until she has blue balls. Serves her right.”
That made me smile. Cary could always do that. “I doubt that woman has ever had blue balls in her life, but it’s a fun fantasy.”
He shut his netbook with a decisive snap. “What should we do tonight?”
“I was thinking I’d like to go check out that Krav Maga studio in Brooklyn.” I’d done a little research after meeting Parker Smith during my workout at Equinox and as the week passed, the thought of having that kind of raw, physical outlet for stress seemed more and more ideal.
I knew it wouldn’t be anything close to banging the hell outta ofLauren jauregui, but I suspected it would be a lot less dangerous to my health.
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