Page 82 of Dr. Bad Boy

She searches my face. “Totally private?”

“You have my word.”

Another nod, this one more definitive. “Then I’ll be there.”

“Good.” I pull her in for another kiss, and my pager goes off.

She sighs and brushes her lips against mine. “Go away, Dr. Bad Boy. You’re needed elsewhere. And I have a holiday outfit to shop for now.”

I tell her that she only needs a festive thong, and after she gasps, I kiss her goodbye. Long and slow and not nearly satisfying enough.

But I like the new look in her eye. The naughty look that glints there now that we’re planning something a little outside the contractual box.

Maybe Violet might be ready to admit she’s my girlfriend after all.

My kinky, dirty, naughty girlfriend.

28

Violet

It’sall fun and games until someone decides to get serious.

Not that I’d decided that, exactly. But it was on my mind. And with Max’s Christmas party, it’s on my mind. He’s assured me it will be safe and private, but what if the next one is a bigger deal? What if he wants to take me to a club?

What ifIwant him to take me to a club?

Everything is spinning so fast and out-of-control for us, and I don’t want that to stop. At all. I want more, not just play weekends but late dinners mid-week, when we’re both exhausted but seeing each other is a balm that’s worth the extra hour or two.

I want to hit the Farmer’s Market together and get muffins again.

I want Max, all of Max, and I’m the reason why I can’t have him like that.

So I’m in a terrible mood when I get an email late Tuesday afternoon.

To: Violet Roberts

From: Ellie Montague

Subject: Free for coffee this week?

Hi Violet!

I was wondering if you wanted to grab coffee this week. I need to do some Christmas shopping, too, if you like that sort of thing.

Ellie

PS My roommate might come with, if that’s okay.

Shopping? Yes, please. I could use some serious retail therapy right now. I fire back my response, and we agree to meet after work the next day for shopping first, then food to refuel.

Imeetthem just inside the doors of the mall. Two not-so-subtle security guys lurk nearby, but they’re low-key enough that after a moment I can pretend this is a regular new girlfriend meet up. Ellie introduces her roommate, Sasha, a fellow grad student at U of O.

“At some point you’re going to have to admit you don’t live with me anymore,” Sasha teases.

Ellie shrugs. “Maybe after the wedding.”

Sasha laughs out loud. “You just don’t want to pack up and move.”

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