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13
The trip back to D.C. is much like the trip to Vegas, except Mya and I drop our usual banter and instead treat each other like polite acquaintances. She doesn’t make any comments when the flight attendant slips me her number and I don’t make fun of her plastic stress cow.
The whole thing feels fake as hell.
But we’ve come to an unspoken agreement to pretend last night didn’t happen. What happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right?
Well, I think that’s bullshit but I can’t tell where Mya stands on this. Are doubts starting to creep in? Is she wishing last night didn’t happen? Maybe a part of me is afraid to find out because I’m hoping our newfound chemistry will continue on our home turf.
After the plane lands, Mya lets out a sigh of relief as the pilot makes his announcement and welcomes us back to the nation’s capital.
“We made it. Safe and sound. I told you we had this in the bag.”
Her lips curl up slightly. “Things didn’t go exactly as planned though, did they?”
I wish I could read her mind right now because her comments aren’t giving anything away. That statement could be referencing last night’s dinner debacle with the Lavin team or our late night mattress wrestling. Her expression gives nothing away.
Flying across the country and back within twenty four hours has even the most perky of our employees looking dead on their feet. Even Kevin is quiet and he usually doesn’t miss an opportunity to talk James’s ear off.
“No. But I don’t regret any of it,” I tell her in a low voice, so we won’t be overheard by the others, who are walking past, eager to get off this plane and go home.
“I don’t regret it either,” Mya responds finally.
Relief floods my veins and it’s as refreshing as a rain shower on a hot day. I didn’t know just how much it mattered to me until I thought she was having second thoughts.
“So, what do we do now?”
I know exactly what I want to happen. For Mya to follow me to my place so we can pick up where we left off in Vegas. Mind-blowing sex in a hotel room can only be topped by the comfort of my own bed. But based on her body language and the way her eyes won’t meet mine, I’m pretty sure she’s not up for a repeat any time soon.
Or ever.
“Milo, I just need some time to think. I don’t regret it. Not even slightly,” she says with a small smile that assuages my ego somewhat. “But now that we’re back, I have to think about what this all means because it doesn’t just affect us. James and the whole team are counting on us to pull off a win here. I’m not sure we can afford any distractions right now.”
Everything she’s saying makes sense. I would love to argue that sex between us wouldn’t be a distraction but there’s no way in hell I can pretend that’s true. Every single thing about Mya Taylor distracts me.
“You’re right.”
“I am?” Her expression betrays her shock.
“Hey, you’re not the only one worried about this blowing up in our faces. I just have two requests. Rules for this new reality, if you will. Number one, we don’t let things get weird. It happened and it was the most amazing night of my life. But if it can never happen again, I understand. We’ll keep things professional from here on out.”
“The most amazing night of your life, huh?”
I chuckle at her self-satisfied grin. “Yeah, it was.”
“For me, too.”
My heart shouldn’t be beating this fast at her admission. “Number two, that we keep things professional at work. The office is like Switzerland. Neutral ground.”
“I completely agree.” Mya’s eyes meet mine and she looks grateful. “Thank you for understanding. And for… you know. Everything.” She blushes as she says it.
And just like that I’m hard as a rock. With just one word, it’s like I’m back in that hotel room again, doing the most depraved things I can think of, all to make her shake with pleasure.
Don’t make it weird.
Keep it professional.
“Milo? Mya? Are you coming?” James is waiting at the front of the plane. Everyone else has gone and we’re the only ones left. The flight attendant stands at the head of the aisle waiting.
