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Chapter Twelve
Tessa
Of course, I’m nervous. Not just because it’s a group date that includes my clients, but also because I shared some pretty damning information about Dylan with them. I swore them to secrecy, and I really need them to keep their mouths shut. Dylan would be mortified if he knew I told them and not him. But I am working up to it. I don’t want to embarrass him, and given his cockiness and my stellar acting, he thinks he’s killing it in the bedroom. It isn’t even that sex with Dylan is bad, because it is so not; it’s just that an orgasm would definitely up the enjoyment factor.
Looking back, I should have never shared it with them. I know Lauren keeps saying we’re friends, but I just don’t know. She’s my client and I really crossed a line sharing anything about my love life, even if they’re all very open with each other.
Once this job is done, I won’t be working here any longer and the likelihood of me seeing them on a regular basis is probably non-existent. Actually, that might be good, so I don’t have to relive the embarrassment of telling them that Dylan can’t get the job done in the bedroom.
“Oh my god,” I mutter out loud to my quiet apartment. “Shame on you, Tessa.” I have no idea why I blurted it out and now I’m about to go to dinner with them and all night all they’re going to be thinking about when they see Dylan is that his girlfriend fakes it in the sack.
The only positive is that at least Ellen doesn’t know, or maybe she does.
“Oh!” I wail, scrubbing my hands down my face. There’s no way Lauren didn’t fill her in on this juicy bit of gossip. I did say not to tell anyone, or didn’t I? I can’t fucking remember now. “Lesson learned, Tessa, keep your mouth shut.”
Just as I’m muttering to myself like a crazy person, Dylan knocks on the door, startling me. All I can hope is that he didn’t hear me.
My heart is racing, fluttering so fast I can feel it in my throat when I open the door.
“Hey,” Dylan says, smiling at me as he steps through the door. “Who were you talking to?” he now asks, and my face grows terribly hot and there’s no way he doesn’t notice the red flush that I feel creeping up my cheeks. “You don’t have a guy hidden in here somewhere, do you?”
“What? No. Why would I have a guy hidden in here?” I ask, sounding guilty and breathless. There is no guy hidden in here at all, but the way the words come out make it sound like I’ve been up to no good.
“I don’t know. It was just a joke,” Dylan responds, a cute little smirk on his face. “But I did hear you talking.”
“Fine. You did. I was talking to myself,” I admit, biting down on my bottom lip, the embarrassment showing all over my face.
Dylan lets out a hearty laugh, reaching for me, his hands gripping my hips as he pulls me closer to him. “And do tell, what were you saying?”
Now it’s me laughing in an attempt to distract him. I push up on my toes, kissing him, my tongue slipping between his lips causing him to let out a low moan.
“Tessa,” he warns as I move my hips against him now.
“Yes?”
“You know exactly what you’re doing and I’m pretty sure you’re avoiding my question.”
“Maybe I am because I was literally talking to myself about this date or whatever it is. Is it weird going to dinner with your boss?” I ask him.
“Seriously? Babe, don’t be nervous. Jack and Lu are super cool and not at all like someone’s boss. It’s why I love working there. It’s gonna be fun. Come on,” Dylan says as he takes my hand, tugging me toward the door.
“Hang on.” I walk back toward my kitchen, grabbing a bottle of wine off the counter. “Okay, so is it weird to show up at a winemakers’ house with a bottle of supermarket wine?” Dylan doesn’t say anything and I slowly put the bottle back on the counter as he now shakes his head.
“Yes, Tessa, it’s weird, so put the bottle back and we’ll never speak of this again,” he teases, again reaching for my hand. “And besides, I had Hannah make some appetizers to bring so we’re all set.”
“Dylan,” I say, swatting at him. “You had your sister make something? You are so lazy!”
“Um, this coming from the girl who was about to bring supermarket wine to a dinner with winery owners. And anyway, Hannah doesn’t care. It’s her job to cook.”
“Yeah, but she does it all day and probably doesn’t want to have to make something for her brother and his girlfriend.” The word comes out before I can stop it.His girlfriend.I’ve never called myself that and I’m waiting for Dylan to have some awful reaction to the word. But oddly, he doesn’t. He just goes on as if I didn’t say it, almost as if he likes the sound of it.
“She’s fine,” he says, blowing off my comment. “She hates her job and she’s trying to get in at Somerville’s. She’s actually trying to get a job anywhere but where she works. I think she kinda likes making stuff for me because she’s working on new menu items, and they keep getting shut down by her boss.”
“So you get the leftovers?”
“Yeah, but they’re always amazing.”
“I’m down with Hannah’s leftovers. I’m sure they’re fantastic,” I tell him as we walk out the door to head over to Tommy and Penny’s house for dinner.
