It’s stupid and reckless and indulgent—exactly the kind of thing I shouldn’t be doing. But I do it anyway.
“Megan?”
She’s by my side in an instant, in spite of the fact the small space is full of patrons. “Another slice?”
I chuckle, shaking my head. “No, but could I send a pie to Wisconsin please?”
She nods. “Give me a sec, and I’ll take the details.”
Ten minutes—and a few broken privacy laws and called in favors to find Xavier’s address—later and a GTFO apple pie has been ordered and will be with him in the next forty-eight hours.
What could possibly go wrong?
One more hour, that’s how long I’m going to give myself before I head home for a cold shower, a date with my hand, and leftovers from the fridge.
But the more I stare at the paperwork in front of me, the more the documents blur. My eyes keep stuttering over the same paragraph. My fingers won’t stop tapping the pen. The models don’t make sense. The numbers won’t add up.
And every time I close my eyes, I see Xavier’s lips saying“date him.”
My phone rings. It’s Apollo. Irritation needles at me like nails down a chalkboard. “What?”
“Hola to you too, Hermano.”
“I don’t have time for chit-chat, Pollo. What do you need?”
“Nothing when you’re like this.” The line goes dead, and I don’t even feel guilty for being a dick. I need time by myself.
I give up on work, and try schoolwork, with similar results, so I go for a brutal workout to punish the feeling off myself. Pain is clean. Wanting him isn’t. It’s been two weeks. How can someone still impact me like this from hundreds of miles away and after fourteen days?
When I’m finally relaxed enough to slide between my Egyptian cotton sheets, my phone buzzes again.
Apollo: Let me know if you need to talk. I’m worried about you.
Goal Daddy: Wanna hook up?
Every piece of me wants to hop in the car and drive to Wisconsin through the night to say yes. My keys are already in my hand before I realize it. But responsibility, the burden of command, the reminder of all the things I want to be and do with my life weigh heavily.
Artemis: No can do.
I don’t hit send. I delete it.
Artemis: We should stop.
Delete that too.
Artemis: Busy.
It’s not a lie, but it feels hollow.
The response is instantaneous.
Goal Daddy: All work and no play, makes the dark destroyer a dull dude, Honey Bun…
Once again, I find myself with a thumb itching to throw caution to the wind and jump into the fire with this man. Instead, I flip the phone face-down, like that could smother the part of me begging to say yes.
CHAPTER 14
Xavier
