Fling (Wrong 2.5)

“Do not give me another hickey. I will kill you.”

He laughs, his lips vibrating against my skin.

“I’m serious. It’s not turtleneck weather anymore, Gabe. I cannot go to work with a hickey on my neck. I cannot. It’s unprofessional. Childish. And—” And I don’t get another word in because Gabe’s covered my lips with his.

“You know your tits blush too,” he tells me once he’s dragged his lips off of mine.

“Pervert.”

“Yet you love me.”

I do, but I roll my eyes and slip my hands out from under his, then tug his head off my chest. “We have to get ready for work.”

“Five more minutes,” he argues. I give in, because Gabe’s proven it’s worth my while to rush my morning routine.

Gabe drives us to the office, my car still in the parking garage from yesterday. I’ve learned to keep a few outfits at Gabe’s because “have dinner with me after work” turns into an impromptu sleepover at least once a week. We spend most weekends at his condo or my apartment. And last month he took me to Savannah to meet his parents. They just retired there and it was nice to get away. Gorgeous city, the live oak trees in Forsyth Park not something I’m likely to forget. The entire city was lovely, as were his parents. His mom could not contain the smiles whenever Gabe put his arm around me or took my hand.

We get to work and Gabe parks in the garage, then we head inside. We stopped at a Wawa on the way in so I could get a chai tea latte and an oatmeal to go, while Gabe got coffee and a breakfast burrito—and a blueberry muffin for Preston.

We part ways after we step off the elevator. Everyone knows we’re dating, or I should say everyone who cares to know knows. It’s not a secret and it’s not a big deal. My job is working with Sawyer, so I don’t have that much to do with Gabe on a day-to-day basis anyway.

I think Gabe was worried about what Sawyer’s reaction was going to be to us dating. He tried to prep me that weekend of Marissa’s wedding—that Sawyer might not react well come Monday. But Sawyer has been totally fine. He had a huge grin on his face, actually. Told Gabe not to fuck it up because he was on Team Sandra and that’s all that was said. I’m not sure why Gabe was so worried about it, but men are a mystery sometimes.

The quarterly meeting starts at ten, so I don’t have much time to get my morning routine of clearing voicemail and emails completed before the meeting. I buzz through everything that needs to be done as Preston plops himself on the edge of my desk, beaming.

“It’s your anniversary!” he sings.

“Oh, no, not you too,” I say, laughing.

“Did Gabe already make that joke today? Damn.” Preston slumps, his expression dejected.

“Sorry.”

“At least I got a blueberry muffin. You’re training him so well.”

“The muffin is all him. I think he’s had a sweet spot for you ever since you called him an idiot to his face.”

“Do go on.” Preston winks and I laugh again.

I check the time on my desk and, seeing that we have enough time, I suggest we take a run down to the employee cafeteria before the meeting starts. I like to be fully alert for meetings and I could use another jolt of caffeine before we go in.

A few hours later I realize the quarterly meeting is still dull, but it’s moving in the right direction. It’s only been three months since the last meeting, but Gabe’s already implemented a few changes to make it more useful for everyone. We don’t have any surveys to fill out today—thank goodness—so I’m taking my usual notes and following along. Even Preston is awake and paying attention. Sort of.

“I have to pee, Sandy. I’m not gonna make it till the lunch break,” Preston whispers. He’s been fidgeting for ten minutes. I wish he’d just go already.

“So go,” I say in a low whisper. “We’re not captives.”

“You know I hate doing the walk of shame during a meeting,” he whispers disdainfully.

I shake my head. “For the hundredth time, that is not what ‘walk of shame’ means.”

“No one should be ashamed of getting it on with a hot stranger, Sandy. That is not shameworthy.” He shakes his head in disgust. “People should high-five in the morning and go home with their heads held high.”

“What do you suggest it be called then? If we as a society should be proud of our one-night stands we need to have a term for it.”

“I’m trying to get ‘walk of satisfaction’ to catch on, but it’s hard to make something go viral.”

“Uh-huh.”

We break for lunch and Preston makes a break for the bathroom. The room empties and I head to the elevators to wait for Preston. I’m standing there when Gabe walks up with Sawyer and hits the down button for the elevator, then sticks his hands in his pockets and rocks back on his feet while giving a quick glance in my direction.

“Cute ponytail, Miss Adams,” Gabe comments quietly.

I give him a silent nod. We keep it pretty professional at work because we’re professional people.

“Were you in a hurry this morning?”

“What?” My eyes widen as I glance around to see if anyone heard him. There’s only a few people standing nearby and they’re not paying us any attention. I remind myself that he hasn’t really said anything, but I know what he’s implying so I feel my face turn red nonetheless. He knows exactly why I was in a hurry this morning.

I move my eyes back to Gabe’s to give him a look that implies shush, but I find him biting his lip to keep from laughing at me, so I narrow my eyes into a glare instead. Watching me blush just never gets old for him.

The elevator arrives and he steps inside, shooting me a wink as the doors close. And yes, it still gives me butterflies.

Preston arrives a moment later and we grab the next elevator, making our way to the cafeteria. Preston just returned from a week in St. Thomas with his husband, so he tells me all about their trip over lunch, complete with his disappointment at not being able to steal a baby dolphin.

We arrive back at the conference room just a few minutes early and take our seats, the same ones as always—two rows behind and one seat over from Gabe.