They were heavy thoughts.
But we were suddenly in my house. And Luis was opening up a bottle of red. I was stripping a few layers off. Krissy was putting on some dancing music, and pulling me off the couch to move around with her.
Things were light.
There would be time for heavier thoughts tomorrow.
An hour later, even more buzzed than before, but cool, happy, I fell back onto the couch, letting out a happy laugh as Luis pulled Krissy to his chest to show off his tango skills despite the music being DMX barking from the stereo.
What was I thinking right then?
Not about work.
Not about the situation with Michael.
No.
I was thinking how nice it might be to have someone there with me right then.
That someone immediately took the form of a certain grumpy somebody.
And I couldn't help but wonder if it was possible to get a man like that to dance with you.
Though, right then, I would settle for a chest to lay on and hands to stroke through my hair.
I hadn't given the opposite sex any consideration in a very long time. There was no denying I was giving it thought now, though.
And I couldn't help but wonder what the next Sunday had in store for me, what it would be like to be someone's--and maybe this particular someone's--girlfriend. Even if it was only for pretend.
Pretty quickly, though, I wouldn't have to wonder anymore.
Because Sunday came slowly and then all at once.
Then he was there again, looking even better than I remembered, making me want to yank him into my office and rip that suit off of him.
It was going to be an interesting night.SIXNixonI was nervous.
Which was fucking ridiculous.
She was only doing it because I'd conned her into it.
This was not - in any way shape or form--a real date.
Yet all I could do was keep picturing the picture that had been sent to my phone much later the night she'd been out drinking with Krissy. And her brother. Who happened to be the guy from all the Facebook photos.
It had been taken by someone other than Reagan, clearly, as she was completely in the picture, half the room away, dancing with Krissy, who was wearing a black dress that fit like a second skin.
I barely spared her a glance, though, since my gaze was fixed elsewhere. On the woman next to her. With her hands thrown up in the air, making the white tank she was wearing slide up to expose her skin several inches above her belly button. Flat and smooth, though not toned, showing off a gentle flare of hip.
Krissy had been right.
She stripped when she was drunk.
There was no way she had gone out in a tank without a bra. And, well, her pants were missing. Which only served to show off her long legs. She had on fancy panties in a rosy pink silk and white lace pattern that was soft and delicate and sweet. And made me itch to rip them off her body.
Her brother must have taken the picture and sent it, likely in cahoots with Krissy, both deeming Reagan a little too rigid. Though, I was pretty sure most people would look rigid alongside Krissy.
I'd been counting down the days until the next Sunday dinner. Not because of the spread of food that was both delicious and over-the-top, but because I actually wanted to see her again.
So, yeah, while the rational side of my brain understood this was more of a transaction than anything, the other part was nervous.
That feeling stuck with me as I let myself into the building, made my way up the stairs, this time hearing the bustle of office life, but interrupted by the bass of a stereo playing some early two-thousands pop song that hadn't even charted long enough for me to remember a title or artist.
I moved into the space, immediately spotting Krissy sitting off the side of a desk, bare foot tapping along to the beat in the air.
There was clicking coming from the desk in the back that was completely blocked off from view.
And there were two figures to the far back, faces turned away.
"Look who it is!" Krissy declared, smile immediately beaming as she hopped off her desk. "I knew that picture would work. I made Luis snap it when she wasn't looking, then totally used her finger after she fell asleep to override her password to send it to you. And here you are!"
Yeah. That sounded like something one of my brothers would do to me.
"We actually had this set up before then," I told her, watching as her eyes slit small.
"That lying whore," she said affectionately, tsking her tongue. "She lied right to my face about you. Well, yay, you're here. Are you taking our Reagan somewhere fun, or just going right back to your place to fuck?"