Chapter 9
Casey
“I will not be embarrassed. I will not hide under the table and pretend it never happened.” As I paced around my small living room, I told myself I just had to remember that Preston thought I was cute—even while incredibly drunk and oversharing to the point of ridiculousness. He’d liked that I’d opened up.
Even if it had taken alcohol to get me to that point.
Just thinking about drinking again gave me a stomachache, but it also made me smile. The day after our drunken night out, Lane had shown up at my office offering to take me out to lunch. He’d smiled tentatively and said it would be his treat, as long as no drinks were involved.
He’d been a little withdrawn and nervous until I’d spelled out very clearly that I wasn’t upset. How could I be when he obviously felt so bad? He’d worried himself sick thinking that, at the very least, I’d be frustrated with him. But there had been no way either of us would have realized how much alcohol had been in those drinks. If I was remembering the evening correctly, and some parts were vague, even Eli had seemed surprised.
I remembered Eli telling the waiter that we wanted something fun, and I had a clear memory of telling the guy that I really didn’t want to taste the alcohol. I wasn’t much of a drinker, but I’d thought that since Eli was the designated driver for the evening, I’d take the edge off a bit. I’d been thinking about opening up to them, but without something to give me a bit of courage, I knew I probably wouldn’t get to that point.
Well, I’d gotten my wish—wishes, really.
I hadn’t been able to taste the alcohol, and I’d opened up to Eli and Lane.
Eli had been a little more nervous than Lane about approaching me. He’d sent me a little picture of an animated guy peeking out from behind a wall with a wide-eyed stare that made it clear he was nervous. I’d just sent him back a smiling emoji. That had him sending me back fireworks, so I was assuming that meant he was glad we were good.
No words, though.
Preston had said that Eli had been moping around the office since our night out on Monday. I’d gotten the impression that Eli was frustrated with himself for letting things get out of hand. Part of me just wanted to ignore it and pretend it had never happened, but I felt bad about Eli. He’d really been trying. I had a distinct memory of him telling Lane and me to stop oversharing. Of course, I also remembered giggling because for some reason that had been hilarious.
Uh, alcohol. No more drinking.
Well, maybe a little more if it meant Preston would take me home with him again. He’d been sweet and wonderful, making sure I was okay and not taking advantage of the situation. Drunk me was obviously a bit of a slut because I remembered thinking that he needed to know how hot he was. I just wasn’t sure if the conversation had actually happened because all I remembered was thinking about what I wanted to do to him.
So I had my fingers crossed that it was just a vodka-induced fantasy.
Walking by the coffee table, I checked the time on my phone again. Ten minutes. Preston had said he’d be at my place at about six with dinner, so I’d been counting down since I’d gotten home. Working late would have helped me kill the time, but I’d been useless most of the afternoon, so I’d packed up as soon as I could leave.
There was always work from my other clients that I could be doing, but I knew that I shouldn’t be doing that unless my mind was fully engaged—and my brain was nowhere near full capacity. Not when most of it was wondering what would happen after dinner. Preston’s last email question had made it clear that the ball was firmly in my court.
I just hoped my answer had been enough.
When I’d opened up my email over breakfast, I’d thought we were done with the questions. Maybe that had just been wishful thinking. His last question was the hardest of all. What could he do to make the night perfect…I’d stared at the screen until there were only seconds left to answer it before I had to go to work.
I wasn’t sure if having such a short amount of time had made it easier to answer or harder. I certainly hadn’t been clear, but I had been concise. I just hoped he understood what I’d been trying to say.
Don’t let me hide. I want you to be you. I’m ready for more than you might think.
Yeah, clear as mud.
Maybe.
Preston had always seemed like he’d been able to see through me, so I was counting on his almost psychic powers coming through again. Would he understand what I meant when I wasn’t completely sure myself? Even I could see I was tired of hiding. I just wasn’t sure what would come after that.
My practical experience was…low.
I’d been too shy in high school and college to do much of anything. I’d dated a bit, but aside from a few assholes who’d only been out for one thing, most of the men I’d gone out with hadn’t seen me as sexual. I’d been the sweet guy they could take home to their mothers. I’d been the smart guy who could help with the math course they didn’t understand. I’d been the nice guy who was always there and didn’t require a lot of attention.
That had all just added up to me being a virgin in my mid-twenties.
By the time I’d gotten a little bit of confidence and had been starting to figure out what I liked, I’d realized that I didn’t want to have sex with just anyone. I wanted a Dom. I just hadn’t been ready to go find one.
That hadn’t helped my virgin status either.
I was at the point where I couldn’t decide if it was a big deal anymore or not. Back in college, it had seemed huge, but as I’d started to open up to my friends online, they’d basically shrugged and said I’d figure things out at my own pace.
