Page 33 of Unraveling with You

“Oh,” I mutter. Glancing at my boots, my heart hurts.

“Fuck. Sorry. I hurt your feelings.” Remington rubs my shoulders, but I shrug.

“No, I– I knew I tried too hard to fit in. I haven’t had a chance to wear this in a while–”

“Fuck, yep, you owned this outfit already. I shouldn’t have assumed you weren’t walking around like a badass every day. Way to be big-headed and make it all about yourself, Remington.” With every passing word, Remington’s sentences race faster. “Actually, I should’ve known you’d look like this. You look sicker than me, and you aren’t even inked. God, I sounded like such a dope. You think you don’t fit in here? No, you could own the goddamn club–”

Sputtering out a laugh, I give his arm a squeeze. “Remington, it’s okay!”

He groans, playfully rocking me back and forth by the shoulders. “No, no, it’s not. I just– I brought my own baggage to that comment and fucked up our greeting. Let’s try again. Stay right here.”

Before I can speak, Remington flips away from me and speedwalks down the sidewalk. My feet beg me to chase after him, but I remember he told me to stay put just in time, halting myself in place. I laugh when he glances over his shoulder, pretending to catch sight of me with an over-exaggerated, gaping jaw.

“Lilibeth Norris?! Is that you?”

A genuine laugh rises from me as multiple strangers turn to watch us reunite on the sidewalk. Opening my arms, I allow Remington to crash against my chest. Except he comes barreling faster than I expect, glomping onto me heavily enough to nearly take me out. I shriek through laughter, clinging to his back as he steadies me on my feet.

When he pulls back with his sly half-grin, I beam at him. Our noses are just an inch from brushing each other. I hadn’t realized we lingered this closely until his quick, huffing laugh tickles my lips, flipping my stomach upside down.

“You’re cute,” he whispers.

“You’re goofy,” I mutter. “In a cute way.”

Remington stares for a second too long. Except that second extends into another. And another. I’m still in his arms, but neither of us moves to let go. A tremendous pressure in my chest begs me to lean in and kiss him for the first time. But I’ve never done something so daring. Or been the first one to kiss a man. Would he be okay with it?

But as excitement ignites behind Remington’s soulful, jet-black eyes, I suddenly feel like I’m about to be attacked by a golden retriever. My mouth pulls into an even wider smile.

Then I’m forced to blink.

“Boop.” Remington pokes the tip of my nose. Then he whips away from me. “Alright, now that you’ve been booped, you’ve been granted official entry into Club X. You’re welcome here, you belong here, and no one can argue with it.”

He puts his arm around me, guiding us straight for Club X, and my heart flips. I thought I’d be terrified entering these doors, but instead, I’m laughing.

Club X sucks us into a moody, electric dimension, hot pink LEDs lining the ceilings with not much else to light our way. Faces form as blurry shadows while my eyes adjust to the darkness, but Remington nods at everyone we pass, chatting up a few of them. They’re eyeing me; I’m tucked against the Dungeon Monitor’s side. But I’d rather stick close to Remington. There are far more people here than I anticipated for a slow Tuesday.

A sweaty man in only leather short-shorts and boots passes close by us. His back has been patched with gauze, but blood still seeps through. My stomach plunges. I’m not sure I’d be into anything like that.

Music drowns out the party that appears to be raging at the hallway’s end: the dungeon. Even after all my mental preparation, I’m not sure I’m ready to see what’s behind those steel, crackle-painted black doors. I grip Remington tighter.

But he veers us to a short hall on our left. At the end of the hall, a few people chat on a tufted couch. They’re in each other’s laps, cuddling in a playful chat. One woman, clad in leather, catches sight of us. The second I see her commanding, sharp stare through her mask, I know she’s a dominatrix.

But before I can worry that I’m disturbing her happy place, she cheerily waves to us, giving me a sweet smile. My shoulders settle, and I brightly wave back.

As Remington opens the door to a private room, he leans in to whisper in my ear. “Holy shit, you got a smile out of Miss X.”

“Oh. No wonder I feel like I’ve been blessed,” I mumble.

Remington’s sharp, abrupt laugh echoes into the private room, hardly muffled by the emerald green tufted couch or cushy bed in the corner. I bite back my smile, unable to fully relax as the door shuts behind us; that “cushy” bed also has icy metal cuffs hanging from all four corners. The dresser beside it must be full of flogging toys.

The sudden silence brings my pounding heartbeat into focus. I track Remington as he fluffs pillows, plopping himself on one end of the couch. Trailing after him, I drop my purse on the matching emerald ottoman, sitting as close to Remington as my heart can manage. We’re just sitting side by side, but now that I have him all to myself, even leaving 6 inches between us feels startlingly intimate.

I know it’s obvious I’m nervous. Remington chatters away with me, shaking off the nerves as we discuss his job at Club X and how my shifts at Salucci’s were this week.

Once we’re settled in, Remington’s lowering voice rumbles across the walls. “Before we jump into our formal talk, I have a bit of a difficult question for you.”

My heart flips. Is this when Remington admits he’s not sure I can handle this?

Remington glances at me, clasping his hands in different directions in a nervous fidget. “What makes you interested in doing this with me?” Anxiety spirals throughout my body, but Remington rubs his thumb joint. “Sorry, I– I know it’s a big question. And I know we like each other. That’s no secret. But I guess I’m trying to ask, why me? Like is the end goal in this mainly sex, or...?”

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