Page 75 of Bid For Me
“You okay?” she asks softly.
I nod, though my chest feels tight. “Yeah. Just...a lot to process.”
Candy squeezes my arm gently. “Come on, let’s go get some food. I’m starving and I didn’t even do anything!” She laughs. “Maybe we can have a few cocktails and make our men come rescue us.”
She pauses, taking a look at my panic-stricken expression before pulling me into a fierce hug. “You’re going to be fine, Elle. You’ve got this.”
I want to believe her. But as we head back to the mansion to change for the evening, the weight of everything – this wedding, this life, this lie – feels heavier than ever.
By the time we step into the small, warmly lit cocktail bar Candy picked out, my head is spinning. The day had felt endless – an emotional gauntlet – made worse by Claudia’s insistence on treating me like a doll to be dressed. But here, in this cozy haven of exposed brick and golden light, I feel the tension begin to ease. The place is quiet for now, the hum of soft jazz weaving through the air, and it’s just what I need.
Candy orders us both a round of espresso martinis before I even sit down. “If ever there was a day for these, it’s today,” she declares, sliding into the booth across from me, and tossing her coat onto the seat beside her.
I sink into the leather cushions, resting my elbows on the polished wood table. “I don’t know what I’d have done without you today. Probably walked out halfway through the fitting.”
She laughs, brushing her blonde hair over her shoulder. “Oh, I know. But I wasn’t about to let you face all that alone. Besides, I had to make sure Claudia didn’t strong-arm you into wearing one of those gaudy princess gowns.” She gives an exaggerated shudder, and I can’t help but smile. Out of the two of us, Candy has never been into fashion, so her joke really makes me feel warm inside. There’s nothing this girl wouldn’t do for me, or I for her.
“It’s a beautiful dress,” I admit, though my voice is quiet. “I just...this whole thing – the wedding, this life – it’s like I’m playing a part in someone else’s story.”
Candy’s expression softens, and she reaches across the table to squeeze my hand. “It doesn’t have to stay that way, Elle. You’re allowed to make this yours. Even if it’s all for show, you can still find pieces of it that are real. Pieces that matter to you.”
The server arrives with our drinks, and Candy raises hers in a toast. “To getting through today without murdering a bridal consultant or committing credit card fraud.”
I laugh, clinking my glass against hers. “I’ll drink to that.”
The first sip is perfect – rich and bittersweet, cutting through the weight of the day like a balm. For a moment, we sit in companionable silence, letting the tension ebb away. But as the second drink arrives, Candy tilts her head, her gaze sharpening.
“Alright,” she says, setting her glass down with a determined look. “You’re brooding. Spill.”
I hesitate, but Candy doesn’t waver, her expression a mix of curiosity and concern. Finally, I sigh, leaning forward on my elbows. “I don’t know where to start.”
“How about you start with why you’re looking at me like you’ve got a secret that’s about to explode out of you?”
I laugh softly, but it fades quickly. “It’s just...everything. This fake engagement. Seb. The wedding. And now, the club.”
Candy raises a brow. “The club?”
I bite my lip, suddenly feeling exposed. But if there’s anyone I can talk to about this, it’s Candy. “I’ve been thinking about what I want. About...what I want to experience. Sexually. And I don’t even know where to start.”
Her expression shifts, her teasing giving way to something warmer, more serious. “You’re allowed to want things, Elle. You don’t have to justify them to anyone.”
“I know,” I say, though my voice is shaky. “It’s just that I’ve never...I’ve never done anything like this before. I don’t even know if Seb would—” I cut myself off, heat rising to my cheeks.
Candy leans forward, her tone conspiratorial. “If Seb wouldn’t, I’d be shocked. That man looks at you like he’s already imagining a hundred filthy things he wants to do to you. And of course, I’ve read his profile so I know all the kinky shit he’s into.” She winks to tell me she’s joking.
I laugh, covering my face with my hands, but her words spark something inside me. A flicker of courage, maybe.
“Alright,” Candy says, leaning back with a grin. “What’s on your list? If you could do anything at the club – anything at all – what would it be? I already think you and Seb are going to be fire together. Your chemistry is off the charts and I bet you’re compatible in your kinks too.”
I glance around the bar, as if someone might overhear, but the only other patrons are absorbed in their own conversations. Taking a deep breath, I lower my voice. “I think...I want to give up control. For once. I want to feel like someone else is completely in charge.”
Candy’s smile softens. “That’s not unusual, you know. A lot of people feel that way – especially if they’re used to being the one in control all the time.”
“It’s more than that,” I admit, my words coming out in a rush. “I want to feel...safe. Like I can let go without having to worry. Like I can just...trust someone to take care of me. But…”
“But…?” She prompts, a brow raised.
“I like pain. I know I need it to get off, but only with someone who I know I can trust, and who won’t take advantage. I feel like I’d need double the aftercare. For the pain and for the emotions.”