Normally I’d be frothing at the mouth to talk about giving a PA to my coworker’s dad, but the words dried up on my lips. Something about the time I’d spent with Wyatt felt different, even though I couldn’t put my finger on why. I’d pierced plenty of hot guys before, so the hesitation had nothing to do with my attraction to him.
Maybe it was the fact he hadn’t seemed put off by me once. I had friends and family who loved me to pieces, but I was well aware of what a short-dose person I could be. The fact he sought out more time with me? That he took my lack of filter in stride? Someone like him was rare, and I enjoyed hanging out with him just as much.
“Oh my god, Ror, are you possessed?” Aislin asked, waving a hand in front of my face. “I gave you open invitation, and you’re not telling me about a single nipple or scrotal piercing.”
“Quiet week,” I lied, at least partially. “The snow mid-week borked up my client load.”
Aislin’s brows drew together. “And now you’re saying load and not even snickering? Maybe I should send out a search party.”
An involuntary grin rose to my lips. My family did know me best. “Clearly, it’s been far too long since I’ve gotten laid. This is what abstinence does to me.”
Aislin lifted her brow. “How long do you consider abstinence?”
“A few weeks.” My lips twitched, and she let out the hiss-sigh I’d been waiting for.
“Oh, fuck off.” Aislin found a spot to lean against the wall and started to pick through her strawberries for the ripest one. “Try going on a six-month stint and then we’ll talk.”
“You poor thing,” I teased. “Thought being bisexual gave you more options.”
Aislin flipped me the middle finger.
I dug into the casserole with a lack of finesse, and within minutes I was finished. I snagged Aislin’s empty plate and stacked it with mine before heading back to the kitchen.
“Thanks,” she called out behind me.
I rinsed the plates off and then loaded them into the dishwasher. By the time I stood back up, my phone buzzed. I glanced at the screen. Wyatt.
Are there club nights in the city tonight?
Oh, damn.
I’d half expected him to be joking about the concept of going to a gay club with me. Truthfully, part of me didn’t want to take him because he was that damn hot and he’d get swarmed by thirsty guys. And they could fuck off, since I was the thirstiest.
Except another part of me was dying to see what would happen. I could’ve sworn he’d shown interest back at the gym, but his blushing over my flirts wasn’t enough to gauge. A place like the gay club would make it clear whether he had an interest in guys or was just awkward and humoring my bullshit. I shot him a message back.
Several. Late or earlier?
My nerves hummed as I stared at the screen. A message appeared a second later.
What do you take me for? Earlier.
A grin stretched my lips on automatic. I’d always been easy with my smiles, but around him they were genuine.
Meet me at The Truck Stop on Walnut Street at 7.
His reply was instant.
That’s early???
I shook my head, unable to tamp down the lightness bubbling up in my chest.
Fine. Six. And we’ll just grab drinks there first before the music starts.
You’re on.
Tonight, I was taking Harper’s dad to a gay club.
Chapter eight
