Page 14 of Pants On Fire


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“Yep, just down hall,” he says when I stop in front of my room. “Well, I’ll let you get settled. Don’t think you’re going to spend your entire weekend working in your room. We’re hanging out like ol’ times,” he adds, the look he gives me leaves no room for argument.

“I’ll see if I can get my work done tonight and let you know. If not, I mean, we’ll always have the game tomorrow,” I remind him.

Danny’s tanned face lights up. “True that. I’m sure there’ll be tons of people at that game. Lots of hotties too,” he adds with a cocky smirk.

I laugh at his comment, but more out of habit because if there’s one thing that Danny is good at, it’s women watching. And flirting. And sex. Though, as far as I know, he stopped the last part when he was with Cricket. Flirting, however, was a different kettle of fish. Danny was a born flirt and did so shamelessly, even when he dated Cricket. She didn’t seem to mind, though, at least that I ever noticed. She usually just rolled her eyes and smarted off to him.

He heads to a room five or six doors down, on the opposite side of the hall, as I slip into my room. There’s a large bed that takes up the majority of the room, one that I’ll be sleeping in alone. Never has the thought of someone accompanying me into bed ever been so strong in my life. Maybe it’s the reminder it’s been a while since anyone has joined me in any bed, let alone mine, or possibly after spending the last couple of hours with Cricket. I’ve never been attracted to her, not like this. Sure, I’ve noticed she was pretty. Sexy, even. But now? Now, my wayward cock is practically ripping itself out of my pants, doing anything it can to get closer to her.

Thathas definitely never happened before, where she’s concerned.

Adding Danny to the mix only seems to make it more complicated.

That’s exactly why I’m going to stay in my room and catch up on work tonight. Sleep it off, if you will. Wake up tomorrow and not embarrass myself by sporting a woody in her presence. You know, things afriendshouldn’t do.

My cell phone chimes an alert, and I find a text message waiting.

From Cricket.

Cricket:I’m hoping you have the same number. This is Cricket, in case I’m not programmed in your phone anymore.

Cricket:Plans tonight? I’m thinking I need some mozzarella sticks from Slim’s. Maybe a draft beer. You know, one obtained legally and not through a fake ID.

I’m automatically smiling that she didn’t get rid of my number from her phone. It makes me feel good she didn’t ditch my contact after we lost touch.

Me:I see your cheese sticks and beer and raise you one game of darts.

There. Sent.

That’s me not embarrassing myself in her presence by staying away from her.

I pretend to not be obsessed with seeing those bubbles appear on the screen and head over to unzip my garment bag and hang my suit. It’s basic black and my go-to for when I have to travel to meetings for work, which only happens once a year or so. I’ve paired it with a tan button-down and black matte tie with satin stripes.

The moment it’s hanging in the closet, I head over to my phone, you know, to casually check and see if Crick replied. Totally. Casual. And. Completely. Laid. Back.

That’s me.

Grabbing the device, I tap on her name.

Crick:We’ll see. Maybe if I’m plied with enough beer, I’ll subject myself to a darts beatdown. You’ve probably been practicing, haven’t you?

Me:I cannot confirm nor deny that. Cheese sticks, lots of beer, and darts.

My fingers hover over the text. I almost add “It’s a date” but don’t want to make things more awkward than they already are. Instead, I just click send.

Crick:Meet you in the lobby at 8?

I check the clock on the nightstand beside the bed. It’s six thirty. That gives me time to get a little work done and a shower before I head down to meet Cricket.

Me:Sounds good.

I set my phone on the small desk and grab my suitcase. My laptop is secured inside, so after I quickly unload the clothes into the small dresser, I power up my laptop and secured portable network. Time to put Cricket and her tight black leggings out of my mind. Time to forget about the awkwardness surrounding Danny and his ex and the way my cock hardens in my pants every time I think about her.

Time to get to work.

***

And hour and a half later, I’m shoving my wallet into the back pocket of a clean pair of jeans and grabbing the rental keys. Cricket didn’t specify if we’re walking or driving to Slim’s, but honestly, it doesn’t matter to me either way. The familiar hangout is about a ten-minute walk from here, which is doable. Plus, that would give me more time with her, right?

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