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August wiped his hands together and sat on the edge of the table next to me. “Want to watch a bad movie tonight?” he asked Michael.
“Sure.”
“Bad movie?” I asked.
August nodded. “Yep.”
“I don’t think I understand. You’reintentionallywatching a bad movie?”
“That’s right,” Michael said.
“You know there are good movies you can watch, right?”
“It’s more fun this way,” August explained. “We pick a bad movie. I mean a truly awful piece of cinema not worth the price of admission. And then we get drunk and make fun of it the whole time.”
“Sounds terrible,” I said.
August pointed at me. “Exactly! So, are you in Mikey?”
Michael glanced at me, and hesitated. I didn’t understand why. Then I remembered that he was asking me if I had plans tonight before August interrupted us. I thought he was just making polite conversation, but now…
Was he going to ask me out?
“Yeah, I’m in for a bad movie,” Michael finally said. “Eight o’clock at my place?”
“It’s a date.” August slid off the table and looked at me. “What? Guys can have a bro-date without it being gay. Don’t be weird, Ginny.”
I giggled as he left the conference room, but I couldn’t help but wonder if I had missed a chance with Michael.
19
Michael
That’s twice I’ve missed a chance with Ginny.
I’d spent all morning stealing glances at her during our donor meetings. Admiring the way she looked with her grey slacks and purple blouse, while trying not to seem like I was totally eye-fucking her. Trust me: it wasn’t easy.
And in between meetings, I tried to work up the courage to ask her out to dinner. I ran a bunch of scenarios through my head, all the different ways I could ask her. I could mention drinks, or the live music bar. I could say that I wanted to talk about the foundation itself. Or I could come right out and tell her I wanted to buy her dinner and get to know her better, picking up where we’d left off on Friday.
I felt like an awkward mess around her. I couldn’t remember the last woman who made me feel this, this…nervous. Not even Erin. I just kept imagining Ginny rejecting me, and then how weird it would be working around her after that. Or worse: she would accept my invitation out of a sense of obligation because I was her colleague who had worked there longer. That was a recipe for disaster.
What made it even stranger was that Ginny herself seemed totally different today. Last week, she was quiet and awkward and bashful. Totally normal given the circumstances of starting a new job at a place like NMCF. But today, she was calm. She was relaxed. She was acting like a veteran who had been hereyears.
She was acting like she had knownmefor years.
I began over-analyzing that. Was it a good sign that she was so comfortable with me? Or was it proof that she was treating me like a colleague, and maybe a friend, because she didn’t want anything more to happen?
I went home that evening feeling more confused than ever. After changing out of my work clothes, I compulsively opened my laptop and checked ThiccGinger’s OnlyFans page. She hadn’t posted any new videos, and she didn’t have a live show tonight. Those were only on Tuesday, Thursday, Saturday, and Sunday. I rewatched the blowjob video and imagined myself in the guy’s position again. And just like before, I began fantasizing that it was Ginny’s cherry-red lips sucking on my cock. I couldn’t help it. I thought about her on her knees, gazing up at me through her long eyelashes. Parting her lips and taking the tip of my cock,justthe tip, teasing me while swirling her tongue…
The doorbell startled me so much that I almost fell off my couch. A few seconds later, it rang a second time. Groaning in frustration rather than sexual release, I zipped up my pants and went to the door. August gazed back at me through the peep-hole, making a funny face.
“What are you doing here?” I asked.
He pushed past me into the apartment. “Coming over to hang out. Like we talked about. Got any snacks?”
I glanced at my watch. “You said eight. You’re an hour early.”
“I was bored.” August found a bag of tortilla chips in my pantry and carried them over to the couch. “Why, did I interrupt something?”
