Em wasn't an emotional person. She especially wasn't emotional in bed. And she was technically in bed right now, though she wasn't having sex. Which was actually even stranger, than she had a man in her bed and she wasn't fucking him. It was… new, and not necessarily bad. She'd always thought of Quentin as this prototypical rich guy, with fancy cars and expensive clothes. She'd had a few conversations with him about this or that, the silly things you talk about after a hookup, before you leave their house. Enjoy your night, shit like that. Up until tonight she hadn't known a single thing about him. A single real thing, anyway. She knew who he was and what he did, but not… him.
He had two brothers that he loved. He didn't like watching movies, but he did it anyway. It was strange. She'd never gotten to know a fuckbuddy before. Like, actually know them. This was how people started catching feelings. She decided she wasn't going to do this again. She wouldn't kick him out tonight, but if he asked again she'd be busy. She didn't want to get any closer to him than this. They couldn't be friends.
She didn't mean to fall asleep. She usually watched videos on her phone til she fell asleep, but the weight of her laptop usually kept her awake. But this time, her laptop was on Quentin's lap, and he was warm and somehow soft despite all those muscles, and she'd had a rough couple of days. She fell asleep.
This was the second time that she non-sexually slept with Quentin Blake. At least she hadn't embarrassed herself this time. She was still shocked he wanted to keep sleeping with her after than whole incident. It was a desperate sort of thing to do, and Quentin Blake was the last man in the world to be desperate. She felt sort of… proud? Must have been a really good lay. She almost laughed at that, but it would have woken Quentin up, and she wasn't sure what she was going to say when he did. He was still in his shirt and dress pants, which seemed uncomfortable to sleep in. It wasn't like he could change into something, though. It was sort of strange to see him in bed with clothes on. He'd been in this bed dozens of times, always naked. Always irresistable. Maybe that was the problem. This guy was too hot for her. She always knew she wasn't meant to be with someone like him, but she'd gotten an opportunity she couldn't say no to and now she couldn't let it go.
She had to, though.
She slipped out of bed and went into the kitchen. Quentin shifted, but he didn't look like he'd woken up, so she heated up some water to make a cup of tea. It was loose-leaf, pulled out of a tin container she'd had for years now. Somebody had given her this blend - she couldn't remember who. She didn't really know much about tea, but she liked the idea of it. She also enjoyed the act of pouring the water through the tea into the mug, watching it change colors as it flowed. She added sugar, but no milk, and took a sip. It was delicious, and it helped clear her mind.
She had to get the man out of her apartment. She might have made a mistake when she had him come over here in the first place, but she definitely wasn't going to his house and there wasn't anywhere else. She couldn't afford a hotel, definitely not at the frequency she and Quentin had slept together. Quentin probably could have, but letting him pay for a room every time they fucked was a slippery slope to becoming some kind of sugar baby, and she got enough disrespect at work at it was.
She pulled out her phone to check her messages, and realized with a shock that it was a Monday morning. She had to be at work in twenty minutes.
"Holy fuck," She ran to the bed and shook Quentin awake. He groaned.
"Em?"
"It's a fucking monday and we have to go right now. Fuck, fuck, fuck." She was already pulling off her pajamas and rifling through her closet for something to wear. She grabbed the first shirt she saw and a pencil skirt. She pulled on a black blazer over it and started digging around for her heels.
"It's okay. We'll be less than half an hour late." Quentin sat up, rubbing his eyes. "You don't have to rush, it's fine."
"It's fine for you, asshole. You're the goddamn CFO. And some of us have to take the bus."
"I'll give you a ride." Quentin said, coming off of the bed.
"I've already told you why that's a bad idea."
"My windows are tinted, and I can drop you off a few blocks away. No one will know." He grabbed her arm and turned her to look at him. "It will be okay, I promise." He looked straight into her eyes, and Em didn't know how to respond to the intensity there. She sighed, and went back to getting ready.
"Don't you need to go home and change first?"
"I have a suit in my office." Quentin dusted off his clothes, trying to straighten them out. It didn't do much, since he'd been wearing them all night."
"Won't people see you walking into the building?"
"I'll use the special elevator."
"You're kidding." Em paused.
"About what?"
"The 'special elevator?' That can't be real."
"Oh. It's real." Quentin shrugged. "It's not anything fancy, to be honest. It was originally a service elevator, but we set it up to go exclusively to the top floor and back when we bought the building."
"Aren't service elevators huge?"
"Oh yeah. We've got a couch in there." Quentin laughed. "I'm pretty sure Darius has slept in that elevator a couple times. Alisa has like, eight blankets in her desk drawers. She doesn't keep any supplies in there at all, it's just blankets. If she needs something she goes and gets it from her secretary."
"You all are actually friends, huh?" Em said. "I don't know why I thought you weren't."
"You thought it was just a publicity thing?"
"Yeah. I mean, who actually starts a super successful company with their college friends? That's something out of a movie."
"It still doesn't feel real, sometimes. I'll wake up and feel like I dreamt it all up. But then I go to work and it's all there, everything we built. I'm really lucky to have the company and to have my friends."
"I'm sure you worked really hard to get where you are."
"I did. But lots of people work hard, and not everyone gets where I am. Some people work much harder and end up with a lot less." Quentin headed to the door. "Are you ready to go?"
"... Yeah. Let's go."