Page 18 of Right Man, Right Time
I glance down at my favorite crop top and then back up at him. “What’s the point of wearing a bra on Sundays?”
“A motto I live by,” Ross says.
“A great one at that. So tell me about last night. What happened?”
“Fernando is shyer than I expected him to be. He flirted a lot and even touched my arm a few times, but when it came to making a move, he backed down and said he had to get home. I don’t know, it was weird.”
I fill up the washer with detergent and turn it on, then move on to the next washer. “I’m sorry. I know you’ve been crushing on him all summer.”
“It’s fine. I’d rather have a guy who takes charge, you know?”
“Yes, I get it.” Poor Ross, I think he’s struck out all summer. Not sure he’s had one hookup. The boy needs some love too.
“What happened with the hockey player last night?”
“Oh, I almost forgot,” I say as I reach for my phone at the bottom of my laundry basket. “I was supposed to text him this morning.”
“Why?”
“Oh, he wants to talk about me being his fake girlfriend or something. But you keep that between us.”
“Who the hell would I tell? I barely like anyone these days. Hell, I hardly tolerate you.”
“You can’t get rid of me even if you tried,” I say as I pull up his name and shoot off a quick text.
Ollie:My place, noon, bring sandwiches.
I send another text with my address and suite number and go back to the washer, filling it up with my clothes. I know my mother taught me to sort my laundry, but let’s be honest. It can all go into one giant pile, and you just set it on cold water without any ramifications for laziness. I don’t have time to separate.
“Uh . . . are we going to discuss what happened last night?” Ross asks. “Or are we just going to ignore the fact that you went up to a complete stranger and made out with him?”
Made out is a bit extreme. Kissed a bit? Now, that’s more accurate. And between you and me, the man was a good kisser. I was going in expecting the worst and was very pleasantly surprised. Talk about lucking out.
“I mean, we can talk about last night if you want, but there’s not much to say. I wanted Candace to eat her words, so I made sure that happened. Simon . . . errr, I mean Silas, was a great kisser, thank God.”
“How can you be so nonchalant about this?”
“Because it was a kiss. It’s not like I stuck my hand down his pants and twirled his dick around like my own personal pepperoni stick. It was a simple kiss, and he thankfully went with it. Candace ate her words, and Yonny got to watch me make out with a hot guy. It was a win-win.”
“And him asking you to be his pretend girlfriend, that’s what you owe him?”
“We’re going to discuss details later today.” I grab my laundry basket and nod toward the exit. “You coming?”
Ross hops off the counter, grabs his things as well, and together, we take the elevator up to our floor. Lucky for me, Ross lives a few suites down from mine, so when we get to our floor, he follows me to my room.
When we arrive in my room, my phone dings with a message. I set my basket down and read it.
Silas:What kind of sandwiches?
Ollie:Meat ones. See you at noon.
“Was that him?” Ross asks.
“Yeah, he asked what kind of sandwich I wanted. Oh shoot, I forgot something.”
I pick up my phone and type out another text.
Ollie:Don’t forget the deli pickle. I’ll scream if you show up without it. Thanks.
