She treasures the ones she does and I'm on that list. Risking what we have scares the hell out of her. Truth be told, it scares me too.
"Did you take care of business?" she asks with her eyes closed.
"For now." I take a seat on the lounger next to her, impatience causing my shoulders to tighten. I want to ask her when we'll talk about what happened in my apartment, but she's relaxing at the moment; something that's been in short supply in her life in recent months.
She works herself to the bone for a salary that she can barely live on. She used to talk incessantly about going back to school to become a veterinarian but I've noticed in recent months that it's not a subject she willingly brings up. If someone else does, she seamlessly navigates the discussion in another direction.
I've asked her point blank if she's still interested in being Dr. York, she assures me she is.
"Why do you work so much?" She looks over at me. "You're super rich. Isn't there a point where enough is enough?"
It's never been about the money to me. My drive to succeed has a lot more to do with ego than it does wealth. I never wanted the silver spoon in my mouth. I spit it out as soon as I was able to; branching out on my own to build a life that wasn't bound to my family.
Unfortunately, I still own a stake in their business. If it weren't for my mom, I would have sold it for pennies on the dollar years ago just to free myself of the burden of the twice yearly board meetings and back-and-forth bitterness between shareholders.
"I like the work," I admit as I drop my sunglasses on the small circular table between our loungers. "It's an adrenaline rush for me."
That answer doesn’t satisfy her. Her brow furrows. "Don't you have enough excitement in your life outside of work? You don't have to chase the high by spending ninety percent of your time juggling the five hundred different businesses you run."
I laugh. "There's not nearly that many, Ad. I'm not a fucking robot."
"I know. Robots don't have hearts." She rests her hand in the middle of her chest between those two beautiful round globes of flesh I want to sink my teeth into.
"You think I have a heart?" I ask because it's a gateway to the discussion I've been ready to have since she walked through the door yesterday.
She looks down before her head turns toward the ocean. "You said you'd take me to the water when you were done with your call. That was five hours ago."
The subtle dig about my time spent on the crisis at the Matiz boutique in Los Angeles isn't lost on me. I had no intention of spending that much time in the office I set up in Lark's old bedroom. I made over thirty calls trying to track down a shipment that had gone astray.
Customers were waiting in line at the boutique this morning anticipating a new lipstick and nail color combo. The manager didn't think to reach out to report that the shipment was M.I.A. until she unlocked the door of the store this morning.
I could have easily handed off the matter to someone at head office in New York to deal with but I welcomed the distraction. Spending time with Adley while we're not actively discussing where our relationship stands is becoming harder and harder for me to do.
"Do you think I have a heart, Ad?"
She swings her legs over the side of the lounger, so she's sitting and facing me directly. "Of course you have a heart."
I stare at her body remembering what it looked like on my sofa, lush and curvy; her skin smooth and creamy. "I know the last few days have been hell for you. They have been for me too."
Tilting her head, she studies my face. "What do you want, Crew?"
To strip you bare and fuck you until every cell in your body craves my touch.
"You know what I want, Ad." I stretch my legs, crossing them at the ankles. "I want you."
"You want to fuck me." It's not a question because we're beyond that. Nothing has changed for me since I kissed her. The driving need to be inside of her never lessens.
"Very badly."
Her eyelashes flutter as she drops her gaze. "If we did that, nothing between us would ever be the same again."
She's right. It would be impossible to go back to being just friends, but I'm well beyond that point already. I left my platonic feelings for her behind months ago.
"Is that such a bad thing?" I ask honestly. "We're adults, Ad. We can have sex and see where it goes from there."
"I know where it will go," she challenges, her hands fisting together in her lap. "We both know where it will go."
"Enlighten me." I stare at her. "Tell me where it will go."