“It means we’re not seeing each other again until the weekend.”
“Because the hottest sex of your life doesn’t need to be repeated?”
“Because.” She hadn’t told Cara about Reid being virgin territory. It felt wrong to, and there was nothing Cara didn’t know about her life. She was Zarley’s only carry-over friend from her gymnastic days. Cara knew what it was like to have your body fail to deliver your dream. She would probably always be in pain from a simple fall, the kind Zarley had experienced multiple times with no ill effect. “Because it was all a little too hot, too fast, and you know, cooler heads.”
“You’re into him.”
Way too much. “He’s sexy, interesting and he takes instruction well. What’s not to like? And did I mention loaded?”
Cara laughed. “Got him saying, yes coach, how high, yet?”
Oh definitely. “It’s not like that.” But it was all too fast and she did need a cooler head and now she knew Reid was googleable it occurred that he’d Google her. Of course he would. What’s the chance he’d done it as soon as she cleared his foyer? “He’ll cyberstalk me.” He’d get all the sordid details.
“Did you pretend to be someone you’re not?”
She shook her head. “Replayed the train crash, pointed out all the bodies.”
Cara cut a long swath of fabric, the scissors making a screeching sound. “Then what do you care? He’s a fling, right?”
“Exactly.” Snick, snick. Tiny cuts. Like the ones Reid made around the walls of her resistance.
“Zarley, he’s a fling. Right?”
She looked up at Cara and grinned. “Depends on how good a dick pic he sends.”
Cara’s eyes popped. “I want to see that.” Her scissor-free hand went to her forehead. “Do I? Maybe. Gross, if it’s like hanging there. You actually asked for one?”
“I don’t think it will be hanging.”
Cara squealed. “I’m so glad there are no pins in my mouth.”
“It was a dare. I don’t think he’s going to do it. I’m supposed to provide stimulation.” She said the last word with an all-over shimmy that would’ve made her tits wobble, if she’d had the kind of tits that did that. Hers were more like a muscle-bound guy’s pecs, not that Reid seemed to mind.
“You’re going to sext him. Can you trust this guy?”
“If he’s such a big shot, he’s got more to lose than I do.”
Cara hummed. “Not sure about that.”
“Hey, what’s the worst that can happen? Some gossip website runs a pixelated shot of my bits. It’s not like I didn’t already let the nation down. I’m already old news.”
“But they could out you. Former Olympic has-been now strips for tips.”
“Nice. Maybe it’s time you had a new career. Gossip columnist.”
“Think it pays better than, hello, how may
I help you with your order?”
“Probably.” They said it together and Cara added, “Laptop is on, go search your hot and heavy, before you send him any saucy stuff.”
“He’s already seen all the saucy stuff, over and over and—”
“Okay, okay, okay. Hundred-year drought going on over here, limp a mile in my shoes.”
Zarley left Cara to her pattern cutting and spent the next half hour reading up on Reid McGrath, Founder and ex-CEO of one of the country’s most promising software companies. Now she knew exactly how loaded he was, because it was printed right on the screen, his net wealth. The guy had net wealth, which was an even wealthier way of saying he was seriously cashed up. She also knew he came from a nowhere town about the same size as hers, was its most famous son and was raised by a single mom. And at one time they were both homeless. Though Reid was quoted as saying he always thought it was just camping. But that was it for the personal. Reid McGrath was all business. He had no social media profile, there were no pictures of him squiring women to A-list functions or playing the handbag. All he’d ever done was work until he was asked to step down amid rumors that he wasn’t up to the job anymore.
He was like her, five years ago when all she’d ever done was aim for gold and failed.