“About that…”Fuck. “I have to work tonight. There’s a virus going around, and we had a bunch of call-outs…” I let my voice trail off. He can probably guess the rest of it. If there were any other options, I would take them. Despite my overall seniority, there’s no one else who can be here tonight. They’re either sick or have already worked too many hours. “I’m really sorry.”
“Oh. It’s fine. Really. It happens.” How many ways can he come up with to tell me that he’s disappointed? “We can reschedule, right?”
The uncertainty in his voice breaks my heart, as though I might use it as a reason we won’t be able to go out at all. Though given what he knows about my history, that’s a fair assumption. I’ll have to work to make sure he knows that I won’t give up that easily. Not unless he asks me to. “Of course. Why don’t we go tomorrow night instead? If you’re free?”Please don’t have other plans without me.
“Won’t you be tired? You worked all morning, plus you’re working most of the night. And don’t you have to work again during the day? You need to sleep tomorrow night.”
Shit. That’s mostly accurate. I’ve got a tiny bit of time between those, but I really need to use it for sleep. “It’s okay.” It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve gotten by on only a few hours of rest. It’s harder now that I’m older, but one or two nights should be okay.
“No, it’s not, Aaron. You’ll make yourself sick. What about the next night? Thursday?”
I almost say yes on instinct, before the realization hits me. “I can’t. Thursdays are my standing evening with my friends. Friday?”
“I can’t make it on Friday. I have something for my boss.” He’s always vague about those kinds of things, but I let it go.If he wanted to tell me, then he would. There’s got to be some confidentiality code in his contract. I wouldn’t want to put him in an awkward situation. “Could you do Saturday?”
“Give me one sec.” I pull up my work calendar on my phone to double-check my shifts. If I have to cancel twice in a row, I’m pretty sure he’ll come for me in my sleep—and not in the good way. “Yep,” I say, putting the phone back up to my ear. “That works.” I’m not working this weekend, which is a minor miracle. Perfect for me to get some serious marathon training in and still leave plenty of time for a date with Oliver. If I’m lucky, maybe we can even extend Saturday into Sunday morning. A sleepover would be a first for us.
“Great, I’ll put that in my calendar.”
God, I hope they work out our staffing issues by then. If not, I’ll have to beg, borrow, and plead to get someone else to cover the shift for me. “I’m really looking forward to it. I promise I wouldn’t be cancelling if I didn’t have to.”
“I know. I was looking forward to it, too, but work sometimes comes up. Don’t stress. I’ll see you on Saturday.”
That’s so far away from now. We’ll have been dating for almost two weeks by then, and we still haven’t gone on a single date. Even for me, that’s pretty terrible. “Don’t forget to do your run tonight.” As soon as the words are out of my mouth, I think better of them. Yeah, he needs to do his training, but I don’t want to nag him either. Especially after I already ruined his plans for the night.
“Do I have to?” he whines. “It’s only fun when you go with me.”
“You don’t have to,” I say, watching my words. “But it will be good for you. Plus, it’ll be a nice change from organizing bookshelves.” Something tells me they’re going to end up shoved back together at the last minute before I come over on Saturday, and a few of the books will still be stacked on the ground nearby.
“Fine, but I’m not going to like it.”
I suppress my chuckle. That sounds about right. “I look forward to hearing your commentary. Text me to let me know how it goes?” At least that gives me an excuse to check in with him partway through my shift. If it’s quiet, I’ll be able to spend the time chatting back and forth for a while. It’s a poor substitute for a date, but at least it’s something.
Usually, when I’m with someone, I value my independence over anything else. I need time alone to recharge. But somehow, I don’t need space from Oliver. If anything, being with him is a better source of recovery than being alone. Probably something I should examine at some point, but for now, I’m content to enjoy the sensation.
“So, Saturday?” he asks.
“Yep. Wear something that can get messy.”
“Oooo… sounds dirty,” he says playfully.
“Not in the way you’re thinking. At least not while we’re out in public.” However, that gives me a bunch of great ideas for how to spend our evening.
“Aaron! You’ve got a call for a broken monitor,” Barrett shouts at me from the corner.Fuck.
“Hey, I gotta go. Work.”
“Of course. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Let me know how the run goes?”
Oliver grunts noncommittally. I give it a 50% chance that he actually goes out. In my head, I’m already rearranging his schedule to make up for the missed day. So far, he’s done everything I put on his schedule, except for a few sessions.
“Aaron?”
“Coming.” I hang up and shove my phone into my pocket. So much for a quiet day. Because of course not. There’s some curse around here. We’re all sure of it. Though I’ve heard from a couple of the guys, I think I’d rather deal with the maintenanceissues than with whatever stomach virus is going around. It sounds absolutely miserable.
It briefly crosses my mind that I could fake being sick, get out of here as soon as this job is done. I’d never do that to the crew. Plus, with my luck, karma would kick in, and I’d end up extra sick. Pass. Even if I would rather be in bed with Oliver, sheets tangled around our legs as we basked in the afterglow of mind-blowing sex.
