just sip your wine and think about how badly you want me.”
He stands with the plate in hand. I catch a ghost of a smirk as he turns around and walks back toward the house, whistling a merry tune.
My legs tense as though I’m poised to sprint. Sunlight gleams off Gage’s back, the blinding whiteness reminding me of my car and the first time I locked eyes with him.
I don’t want him. Not really. He’s a passing fancy, like those pumpkin spice lattes that come to Starbucks every fall. They’re delicious, but I couldn’t have one every day. My insides would probably liquefy.
Knowing Gage is bad for me didn’t stop me from thinking about what he would be like. The things he said stayed with me hours after that lunch.
I’m no gentleman, but I’d give your body exactly what it needs.
And it’s plain that my body wants the foul-mouthed, blue-eyed mechanic.
I’ll stay here for a few days and then head back to San Francisco. God, I need to stop thinking about him. Especially while I’m on this conference call for work. It does no good to wonder what Gage’s cock tastes like while people are talking to me.
“We really like the Weezmoji Jennifer designed. I’m thinking that the crying emoji should be the one people see when they download the app. Olivia? Do you have any thoughts?”
I nod along to the voices buzzing in my ear, forgetting they can’t see me. “Sorry—um—yeah, I agree.” It takes my brain a while to turn direction from wondering what Gage looks like naked to tedious questions about advertising. “If we’re doing Facebook ads, I want them to showcase the Weezy branding.”
“We can definitely do that. Sorry about calling on your day off, Olivia.”
“It’s no problem,” I reply back in a toneless voice.“Have a good weekend, everyone.”
I hang up as a half dozen voices chime goodbye. Ever since my ad agency received Dreadis as a client, I’ve had zero free time. None. The rap star needed an ad agency to promote his new emoji app, and I was the lucky one assigned to the project. In the past, that would have thrilled me.
Uptight, high-strung, and constantly attached to your phone.
Hearing that yesterday was like a gut-punch. It’s true. Somehow within the last few years, my priorities shifted from doing what I wanted, to trying to make it in the big city. No matter the cost.
You’re on vacation. Take a walk. Clear your head. Stop thinking about Gage’s thick cock.
I pull on my tennis shoes, and then head toward the heavy door. My hand touches the doorknob when it rattles violently with the hammering of a fist at the door.
“Olivia? Are you in there? Open up!”
Oh shit.
I snatch back my hand as though burned. I feel the tips of my ears growing hot as I recognize that voice. The temptation to fling the engagement ring at his face is really fucking strong, but so is ignoring him altogether. It flies open, my hand twisting the doorknob before I can stop myself.
There he is. The incarnation of Carlton from Fresh Prince of Bel-Air. The arms of his cream sweater are draped across his neck, the rest hanging off his back. A powder-white polo hugs his torso above fitted, plaid Bermuda shorts. And he’s wearing boat shoes.
What the hell did I ever see in him? He’s good-looking, there’s no doubt about that, but I can’t believe I never saw the ugliness behind this boarding-school façade. He squints in the sun.
“We need to talk. Let’s go inside.”
The bastard has the balls to stand there and demand to come inside. I hold the edge of the door, ready to slam it in his face. “Let’s not.”
“I’d rather not have a screaming match in front of the whole neighborhood.”
“Maybe you should have thought of that before fucking that girl in our bed.” My voice rings out into the street, loud and clear.
“There’s no need to yell.”
“I think I’ve earned the right to be as loud as I fucking want.”
“Think about what people will say.”
God, it’s just like him to worry about stupid shit like this. “Who gives a fuck what people will say! You’re not from this town, so don’t pretend like you give a damn. Let them hear how much of a douchebag you are.”
He bows his blond head after a brief show of impatience. “I’m sorry for what I did, but you shouldn’t have run out on me like that. You didn’t even leave a note. I had