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“Well well well, look who finally decided to answer my call. I was about to show up at your house and pull you out from under her.” Chris’ voice floods my car when I finally return his calls. Despite the work I did yesterday, which mostly consisted of me pacing my office trying to will my dick down so I wouldn’t go attack Raegan who I could hear giggling in my living room to an episode ofFriends, I avoided Chris’ calls, not wanting to get into it.
I roll my eyes. “I’m hanging up.”
“Wait! So…”
“So what?”
“Don’t so what, me. How was it? How was she? Did you confess your love for her? Please tell me you didn’t actually propose?” He jokes referring to what he said at the party.
“How did you know I was with her?”
“You left and then shortly after she was nowhere to be found.”
“Did anyone else notice that?”
“I don’t think so,” he says. “A lot of people left shortly after. Stop avoiding my questions.”
“I didn’t propose.”
“Answer more of them.”
“I didn’t confess my love for her either.”
“Jesus, Beck. Answer the good ones.”
I groan in frustration, knowing he won’t let this go. “It was the best sex of my life and that’s all you’re getting.”
He whistles in response. “Well, I’m proud of you. It’s been way too long since you’ve gotten laid. Almost a year now?”
“It irritates the shit out of me that you know that.”
“Well, you’ve spent the last six months training your dick to only get hard for Raegan so, I can understand some of the reason behind your dry spell.”
I want to argue with him but he’s right. Since the moment she stepped into my office, my whole body has only responded to her.
“So, you’ve gotten it out of your system—” he starts and I frown.
“Far from that.” I want to tell him I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get Raegan Graham out of my system but I know that’s the quickest way to get a lecture I’m not in the mood for.
He’s quiet for a second and then he sighs. “Wes.”
“Oh, my first name.” I chuckle. “Am I in trouble?”
“No. I mean…you just need to be careful.”
“I will.”
“Nothing on office grounds. No sneaking her into your office—”
“Not agreeing to any of that.”
“Fuck. Man, you cannot. You’re going to get caught.”
“No, I won’t.”
“Yes. You fucking will. I know you and I also know what it looks like when you’re into a woman. Although I’ve never seen you like this so early on. You weren’t even like this when you started dating Hannah.” A flair of annoyance shoots through me thinking about my ex-fiancée. While we parted somewhat amicably, we spent the majority of our final year together arguing about every single thing under the sun and forcing me back into therapy because I was so stressed out trying to keep things together at home and at work.
We were together for six years, the majority of my thirties before ending things about four years ago.
