Page 31 of Mr. North
Eight
Beth
“H e kissed you. And then you left.” Thalia says this slowly, as if she’s struggling to process the information. “He kissed you?” I haven’t told her what happened in that small room after the kiss. I haven’t explained why I’m struggling to sit down comfortably today and I can’t stop fidgeting.
“Yes, Thalia. He kissed me. Thanks for sounding so disbelieving. I have work to do. I’m not even supposed to be on my phone in here.” I survey the library, looking for Henrietta, the head librarian. If she even catches me with a piece of technology in my hands, I’m done for.
Thalia doesn’t care that I’m at work, though. All she cares about is what happened with Raphael last night, and how he is doing. “He emailed me, y’know,” she says. “He told me to ask you if London was everything you’d hoped it would be.”
“He has my phone number. He knows how to use it. Tell him if he wants to know, he can message me and find out for himself.”
“What kind of friend are you?” Thalia groans into the phone. “We’re meant to gossip about this stuff. We’re meant to pore over every single detail, overanalyzing every single move he made.”
“He’s your friend, Thalia. It’s different.”
“Damn straight it’s different. I have a vested interest in both of you. Now tell me what happened on your damn date!”
“I didn’t go on a date last night. I went to a pre-arranged…god, I don’t even know what it was, but it was not a date. I wasn’t expecting him to do that. I wasn’t ready for him to do that. You’re gonna have to excuse me if I’m not bubbling over with excitement.” A jolt of pleasure hits me out of the blue, right between my legs. Raphael didn’t even touch my pussy last night, but he might as well have. I keep experiencing flashbacks of his hand connecting with my bare ass, and it’s all I can do to stop myself from running to the bathroom so I can masturbate.
“Regardless of what you were expecting or what you were ready for, it’d still be okay if you were excited, Beth,” Thalia says. “I mean, come on. I know every line of that man’s face. He’s insanely handsome. Like Greek God handsome. You can’t tell me you’re not attracted to him.”
I sigh heavily, sliding a book back onto the shelf from the cart of returns I’m wheeling around the stacks. “I can’t tell you that,” I agree. “But there’s something about him, Thalia. Something broken. He’s a nuclear bomb and his wiring’s all fucked up. At some point, a circuit is going to short and he’s going to blow. The fallout will be devastating. If I allow him properly into my life, it’ll only be a matter of time. Something’ll happen. Something awful will happen. He’ll lose his mind or he’ll break my damn heart, and I can’t do that right now. I am five months away from taking the bar. So are you for that matter. I think we both just need to concentrate on our workloads and passing so we can get proper jobs.”
“What, and then maybe you’ll be in the market to have your heart broken?”
“Maybe. Who knows?”
“You’re being ridiculous.”
“I’m being a realist . I’m protecting myself and everything I’ve worked so hard toward for the better part of my adult life.”
Another book goes back on the shelf. Thalia is quiet for a moment. She sounds disappointed when she speaks again. “All right. Fine. If that’s how it is, then that’s how it is, I suppose. I won’t hassle you about it again. Just know…I think you’re making a mistake.”
I don’t know why it’s so important to her that I connect with Raphael. On paper, her insistent need to know what’s going on with him and how he’s faring seems odd. I’d normally assume she has feelings for him herself, but I know my friend. There’s something else. Another reason she’s so desperate to know every tiny detail of Raphael’s life, and it’s kind of worrying that I can’t figure out what it is.
“Let me know if you want to get dinner later,” Thalia says.
“Ahh, I don’t know. I don’t think I can handle any more Raphael North talk.”
“I won’t even mention his name, I swear,” she tells me. “Cross my heart and hope to die.”
I know she’s lying, though. She won’t be able to help herself. She’ll manage to hold off for thirty minutes, an hour max, and then she won’t be able to contain it. Every other word out of her mouth will be Raph related, and I don’t think I can take it. The man’s taken over my every waking moment as it is. Spending the night talking about him will only allow him to consume me further.
And right now, I’m beginning to wonder what will be left of me by the time Raphael has finished claiming me.
* * *
T here’sa small café in the front of the library building that sells toasted paninis and snacks, but I want something fresh for lunch today. Something green and healthy. I’m heading in the direction of a salad bar I sometimes hit up a couple of blocks away when I feel my cell phone vibrate in my purse. It’s him. I know it’s him. I’ve been waiting for a message or some kind of contact from Raph since I walked out of the penthouse. I already know he’s not the kind of guy to bombard a woman with a million text messages, but I witnessed the look in his eyes when he saw me to the glass door of the penthouse last night. He’s not going to leave this alone. He’s not going to walk away from it.
I leave my phone exactly where it is in the bottom of my bag. Whatever he’s sent to me will either ruin my day or make it incredible. I’m still trying to figure out what I’m feeling. I was furious last night. I wanted to punch him directly in the dick for being so presumptuous. Then I wanted to feel his body on mine more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life. And then I was so angry with myself on the drive home that I teared up on the subway. I can’t believe I allowed him to sweep me away in a moment like that. I mean, I let him spank me for crying out loud. Who does that? It was crazy. It was pure madness. But…I also felt insanely happy for a moment. I was so drawn to him. The kiss inside the VR simulation was magical. His body pressed up against me, his hold on me firm yet gentle… I was immediately pulled in so many different directions that I couldn’t process what was happening. And bent over his knee with my dress pulled up around my waist, my bare buttocks on display for him…
I flush as I walk down the street, clearing my throat, hitching my bag strap higher on my shoulder. I have to look around to make sure no one’s noticed just how flustered I am. Can they tell I’m turned on just by looking at me? It must be so fucking obvious.
There’s a line at the salad bar. A huge one. I groan as I join the back of it. Too late to walk somewhere else now; I only have another forty-five minutes to grab food and get back to the library. If I’m late, I’ll be stuck with all the shitty jobs Henrietta’s been hoarding to dole out as punishments whenever she sees fit.
My phone feels like a block of C4, a looming threat at the bottom of my bag. Don’t look at it. Don’t look at it. Do not fucking look at your phone, Elizabeth Marie Dreymon. I repeat this over and over again as a mantra while the line slowly creeps forward.
“Excuse me? Beth, isn’t it?”
