“Hey, beautiful, what time should I pick you up tonight?”
Overthinking the question, every syllable took on some kind of hidden meaning. Key words pinged off a word meter in her brain. Hey, generally meant casual, but, why should he be casual, he’d seen her areola up close and personal. Did he really mean beautiful, as in the most glorious sight he’d ever seen. Don’t even get started on the should I pick you up tonight, was this some kind of menial hook-up, some weird means to an end?
“I don’t know, whatever time works for you.”
“I didn’t know how long it takes for you to get ready between work and home. You might want more time than I’m willing to wait.”
“I’d take my wine in a coffee cup, I’m not some kind of snob. It doesn’t take me hours to get ready for some simple night out.” Why the hell did she get so defensive with him? He’s gonna run for the hills for sure.
“Hey, hey, I’m just trying to plan our evening. Is something wrong?”
Yeah, everything’s wrong. I’ve got a seemingly wonderful guy giving me more than the time of day and I’m pushing him away like leftover fast food. I know he deserves better, why am I not giving it to him? “Look, I’m sorry, I’m being a brat. I’ve got some work stuff on my mind giving me fits, I’m afraid I’m on a one track mode this morning.” The contract still sat on her desk, she’d studied it several times even after Nixie did, trying to find the elusive loophole.
“I’ll make everything better in about ten hours, promise.”
Warmth squashed doubt as her loins warmed to a pleasantly comforting place of readiness. Remembering his lips upon her collar bone removed the temporary pissy mood. “I’m counting on it.”
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