“Yes but you know we have to see them soon, we can’t avoid it forever, I’m afraid.”
“I know, I’m just…not ready.”
“But their Christmas extravaganza, we’re expected.”
“Yup, I know,” I nod and he studies me, as much as he can while also watching the road. I think he can tell all that I just said, while true, is not the whole story. But he doesn’t press further. I decide to let go of my questions about his panic attacks too.
We make a good team.
We’re friends.
Close friends lately.
But today was too much. We don’t need to dive into each other’s deepest secrets. We need to stick to jokes, public outings and quick, hot, itch-scratching sex. Or, almost sex. Oral sex?
I’m sure we’ll actually have sex soon. I can’t resist him forever. I blush as I stare at him. The color is back in his cheeks now anddamn,he’s gorgeous.
“Alright. We’ve got the decorating to do anyway, yeah?”
I snort, “We both know we’re hiring out every single bit of decorating.”
“Are we hiring that out?” He asks, eyes starting to twinkle again.
“We’re not lifting a damn finger, Boss. Please, remember the nail gun.”
“I’d rather not.”
I chuckle and then ask him, “I mean, do you want to go? See your brother at the Canton Thanksgiving the rest of this week? I can stay here.”
He shrugs a shoulder. “It’s an American holiday. Plus, today is Thursday.”
“And?”
“And after Thursday is Friday and then, thank God, it’s Saturday again and there’s no way in hell I’m not here by 12:01.” I snicker, so he doubles down. “You think I’m bloody joking? I’ve a countdown on my phone.”
“You do not!”
He pulls the device out of his pocket and hands it to me. “Code is 1717.”
I laugh as I unlock it and see that, indeed, there is a countdown app set to Saturday at 12:00am.
“Not taking enough classes, I guess?”
“My darling, now that I’ve tasted you, there aren’t enough classes in the world.”
I chuckle and blush at his bluntness, then gasp when the phone’s automatic prompt pops up. “Benedict Clark. Your phone is suggesting that since it’s been unlocked, you must be about to pull up Uber Eats.” He cocks his head to the side as if he’s not surprised. “Seriously? You order food that much?”
“I’m a man traveling alone almost all the time, of course I order food that much.” Something twists in me after he says it.
“Alone? You are literally with someone every time you call me.”
“Strangers or staff.” He huffs, looking up at the rearview mirror to find Nigel driving behind us. “And that’s only dinners, a man doesn’t get built like this,” he wags his eyebrows, “on just one meal a day.”
“Uh huh, and what app suggestion will pop up next? Let me guess,” but he says it the same time I do, “Amazon.”
“I know! I’m gross! I’m a disgusting capitalist billionaire!” He yells before I can tease him and I laugh.
“Do I even want to know what your most recent purchases are?”
