Page 29 of Saint Céline
His mouth curved. “Always so graceful.”
Graceful. That was what people called you when they liked the way you suffered without making them uncomfortable. After dinner, his parents kissed the air beside my cheeks and told me they were praying for Katherine’s family. Mr. Rodriguez shook Thad’s hand before they left, which told me more about their relationship than any family story ever could.
The valet brought Thad’s car around. Rain silvered the windshield. “You don’t have to come over tonight,” Thad said once we were inside, though he had already started driving toward his apartment.
“I know.”
“You sure you want to?”
I turned my face toward the window. The harbour lights smeared across the glass.
“Yes, of course.”
Sophia and Anya were at a charity gala tonight. I did not want to be alone. I did not want to be with him either, but I took my losses.
Thad’s apartment overlooked the marina from the top floor of a restored brick building that used to be some kind of warehouse before rich people discovered exposed beams. Everything inside stayed clean, masculine, and expensive. Leather sofa. Framed vineyard photographs. Bar cart arranged more carefully than his bookshelves. He poured us both a drink neither of us needed. I took mine anyway.
“You were amazing tonight,” he said, loosening his tie. “My mom loves you.”
“She’s very kind.”
“She’s impossible, but she likes you.” He smiled. “That matters more than you think.”
I knew it mattered. That was why I had worked so hard. He came up behind me near the window and wrapped his arms around my waist. His chin rested briefly on my shoulder. “You know,” he said, “once all of this settles down, we should think about coming to Napa for a few weeks. Get you away from Bellamont. Dad’s been talking about expanding the hospitality side, and honestly, you’d be incredible at that. People listen to you.”
People listened because I knew what they wanted to hear.
“Maybe,” I said. His mouth brushed my neck.
“Maybe?” He asked.
I leaned back into him because that was what I was supposed to do.
“After the semester,” I said.
His hands moved over my waist, following the familiar path, applying the familiar pressure. “You’re always thinking three steps ahead.”
Someone had to.
His bedroom stayed dark except for the marina lights coming through the windows. When he kissed me, I kissed him back. When he touched me, I let myself respond the way he expected. It was easier that way. Easier to become warm and soft and willing. Easier to let the room blur into breath and skin and the faint smell of his cologne on his sheets.
Thad was not entirely selfish in bed. He tried. He asked the right questions sometimes. Touched me with the earnest confidence of a man who believed effort and success were naturally related.
I gave him the sounds that made him feel generous. I arched when he slid inside me, slow and steady, his body warm and heavy over mine. I wrapped my legs around his waist and whispered his name like he was my God. He moved deeper, hips rolling in the rhythm he liked, one hand braced beside my head, the other sliding between us to touch me where he thought I needed it. I let my breath quicken. I let my nails press into his back. I let my body tighten around him exactly when he wanted it.
“Come on, babe,” he murmured against my neck, voice rough with effort.
“Let go for me.”
I faked it beautifully. I clenched around him, moaned low and broken, let my thighs tremble the way they would if it were real. I dug my fingers into his shoulders and gasped his name again, louder this time, the way he liked. He groaned and finished a moment later into a condom, hips stuttering, body heavy as he collapsed against me. He kissed my shoulder, whispered something sweet about how perfect I was. He fellasleep within minutes of discarding the condom, arm slung across my waist, breathing deep and untroubled.
I lay awake beside him. The room had gone quiet. Rain tapped against the windows. It was always raining in Blackwater.
Somewhere below a boat creaked against its mooring. Thad’s breathing deepened beside me, steady and untroubled. I stared at the ceiling.
You are dating Thad because he gives you a future that looks safe from the outside.
Vincent’s voice would not leave me. I turned onto my side and pulled the sheet higher over my chest. Thad slept on his stomach, one arm thrown across the pillow, face half turned away from me. In sleep, he looked younger. Kinder too. I wondered what he would do if he knew the truth about me. Not the whole truth, of course.
