I chuckled, wincing as pain shot through my spine. “You guys can sleep anywhere. I’m going to use manager privileges and make sure I always have a bed.”
“Sure you will.”
We both knew I was joking.
Lying back on the floor, Otis hooked an arm behind his head, his eyes shining in the low light.
“So. Tell me more about Tatum King.”
I flopped down beside him with a groan as my back screamed in relief.
What could I offer him? The concept of the getting-to-know-you discussion was always a benefit when you were finding out about a new acquaintance. Putting the shoe on the other foot? I couldn’t think of a single interesting thing about myself.
I didn’t really have hobbies or friends, other than Ruby. Until I was fired, I spent most of my time working as an accountant—not an “accountant”, although being an OF creator would definitely have made me more interesting—and drinking wine while I followed Ruby on her adventures. I wasn’t ready to go into the wholeDanny thing, and I’d already told him about Adam.
Staring up at the eggshell-white ceiling, it occurred to me that I’d stalled out in life a long time before Adam fucked me over. I was as bland as the paint choice above my head.
Before my existential crisis could really get the Tatum’s-a-fucking-bore train running, I blurted the first answer that came to mind.
“I’m a goal-oriented bitch who doesn’t know when to back down or give up, and I really, fucking really, need this job.”
Christ. Take out the swearing, and I sounded like I was back in the interview room. Which only made me feel more awkward as the seconds ticked by in silence.
Why was I like this? I couldn’t just be a normal “I like long walks on the beach and longer trips to the mall” type of girl, could I?
Definitely not. I hated shopping with a passion.
When that tangent threatened to send me down a mental rabbit hole of all my feminine failures, I dropped my head to the side to find Otis had rolled toward me. In the dim light, his golden eyes glinted, moving over my body in a way that made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so bad in the female department after all.
“I have a feeling you’ll do just fine.”
Was it hot in here? Or maybe it was just my face. His suggestive tone left me acutely aware of how close we lay together. How easily I could maneuver close enough to touch him.
As the thought entered my mind, I cast around for a distraction that would lead me back from the edge of my next terrible idea.
“Why? Because I’m as fucked up as the rest of you?” The words spilled unbidden from my mouth
That…was not it.
I slapped both hands over my eyes just in case I could either catch the words and drag them back…or sink through the floor and avoid further embarrassment.
Otis’s bark of laughter was unexpected, and I couldn’t resist watching his head tilt back. The apple of his throat bounced as the warm sound echoed through the empty apartment. His grin was brilliant as he caught my eye, raking a hand through his curls with a final small chuckle.
“That could be it, actually. But honestly, you’re kinda perfect. Smart. Witty.” His face grew serious.
A new tension filled the air, and I wanted him to continue, while also recognizing I was back on the ledge.
“I’d really like to kiss you.” He murmured the words, bridging the short distance between us with his hand.
Warm fingers cradled my jaw as if it were made of glass, while his thumb brushed gently across my lower lip. Breathing suddenly felt difficult, and I opened my mouth to find air. He slipped the tip inside to rest against my teeth.
Yes, my body screamed, warming at the small contact like sex was a foregone conclusion and the delay was unacceptable. Otis was smoking hot and one of the nicest men I’d ever met. The greenest of green flags. Except for one glaring problem.
His head dipped down, his breath ghosting across my lips with the promise of a great distraction.
My fucking work ethic decided to clam jam me.
“Wait.”
