“Send it to me?”
Ozzy smiles warmly and nods.
I return to my sandwich.
27
CONNIE
From the corner of my eye, I see Huxley stroll into my office, but I keep my head down, busy finishing up an email to my publicist. He doesn’t say a word, just plops himself onto the couch facing my desk. He must be done with his workday.
It’s been a couple of days since I took our game a little further than I wanted. I still don’t know what came over me. Oh, who am I kidding? I know exactly what came over me. The reason is sitting right in front of me casually scrolling on his phone like he didn’t watch me fuck a dildo in my shower two days ago.
The thought should embarrass me.
But looking at him now. The subtle landscape of muscles down his forearms, honed by hours of working with his body. The casual wear and tear of his clothes, with paint smeared here and there. I linger on some rogue droplets of paint on his neck, imagining trailing my finger down his skin and finding his quickening pulse.
God.
There’s noembarrassment in sight.
Somehow, whatever transpired between us that day has alleviated the tension between us. Just like that, our little game of chicken is no more. It’s now replaced by a confounding sense of ease and casualness. And I can’t help but wonder if it’s because we’re both far too adept at navigating meaningless flings.
Because that’s what this is, isn’t it?
Deep down, I’m running out of excuses for why he and I are a bad idea. I list them in my head like a hymn, protecting me from my impure thoughts.
He’s younger than me.
He’s Ozzy’s brother.
I just had my heart broken.
He’s …
I don’t know?—
An ex-con?
Please. Like I give a shit. As if I’d ever want to hold that mistake against him. Plus, his bad boy aura, hard exterior, and permanent scowl are probably what led me to sleep with him in the first place. Come to think of it, I don’t think he’d be all too pleased to know that.
I give my head a small shake when I realize where my thoughts have gone. Sighing, I rub my eyes with my index finger and thumb. I hear the tell-tale sound of an incoming email ding, and I glance back at my computer screen.
My heart skips a beat.
“Oh my god,” I giddily say out loud, as I hurriedly open the email.
Huxley stops what he’s doing and looks up, but I’m too busy skimming through the email to give him any attention.
“Oh. My. God,” I repeat, my smile widening.
“What is it?” Huxley asks as he sits up straighter on the couch.
Meeting his gaze, I let out a small chuckle.
“I think I finally found a place!” I look back down, finishing the last few lines of the email.
“An apartment?” Huxley asks, and I nod enthusiastically, my gaze back on my computer.
