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For this moment right here, I will happily spend the rest of the day commando in yesterday’s clothes.
Chapter Eleven
Sophie
Exhausted, deliciously sore, and with a body marred by the dirty mouth of a southern gentleman, I can’t keep the smile from my face as I stride off the elevator and into my office, a few minutes late for work, but close enough.
I mean, who’s counting anyway? It’s not like my boss pays much attention—he certainly never did when we were dating—and Lisa has literally never arrived to work before me, so I’m good to sneak into my office and pretend everything is normal.
Of course, I probably won’t walk right for a week, so normal is relative. But every minute I spent with Dawson last night was worth every ache, pain, and bite mark today.
A giggle slips past my lips and I cover my mouth.
“That good, huh?”
I whip my head up and freeze. Lisa’s already in my office, settled behind my desk as she reviews the stack of twenty-three men we chose yesterday afternoon.
Forcing a smile, I say, “Hey.”
“Hey?” She tilts her head, biting back her own smile as she looks me over.
And shit, if I don’t want to shrink beneath her knowing gaze.
Setting my purse atop my desk, I feign nonchalance. “You’re in early today.”
Lisa’s eyes narrow. “How do you manage to do that?”
“What?”
“Look like you got a full eight hours of sleep when I can tell by that hickey on your neck and the fact that you’re still wearing yesterday’s clothes that you definitely did not.”
My eyes widen and my hand flies to my neck—
But which side?
Could be both. Shit.
Lisa snorts. “Jesusssssss, Sophia. How old are you? Who gets hickeys at our age?” She waves her hand toward me and laughs. “Stop freaking out. I was kidding… but now I know I was right.” Lisa pushes the chair back and stands, eyes narrowing as she circles the desk and comes to stand in front of me, leaning her bottom against the edge of the desktop. Holding my gaze, she crosses her arms over her chest. “So, that begs the question… exactly where do you have hickeys?”
The better question is where do I not have hickeys, but I’m not about to say that out loud.
“Sophia,” Lisa whispers, “tell me everything, you dirty bird.”
I grin and give her a shrug. “You’ll have to wine and dine me first.” Stepping past her, I walk behind the desk and sit down. “Speaking of dirty birds, how’s Max?”
Lisa grins, then fans herself. “Oomph. That boy.” She plops into a seat across from me and winks. “Why I ever dated men our age, I have no idea. The young ones have way more stamina.”
“Oh my God.” I shake my head, gaze flicking to the open door, then back to Lisa. “What do you think?” I motion to the stack of twenty-three men we picked yesterday, just in case she thought I wanted details about her night with bartender Max. “Was that a fever dream, or did we really decide on these guys?”
“We did.” She nods. “And we did a good job. They all seem perfect, Soph.”
My chest swelled with pride at her words and I found myself nodding, but unable to speak. This was it.
Lisa’s next task will be to call them all, give them the good news, and then instruct each finalist to meet us at the hotel downtown where the next part of the casting process will take place. By the end of today, if all goes well, we’ll have our thirteen finalists. Our baker’s dozen.
“Holy shit,” I whisper. “Is this really happening?”
“Yeah, buddy.” Lisa grins and reaches for the stack. “Ready?”
