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“Hey, Hotshot,” she answers after a few rings.
“Beautiful girl.” Her hummed chortle makes me smile. “I can’t leave for a while yet.”
“It’s okay,” she says before I have a chance to apologize.
The understanding in her voice does nothing to ease my disappointment of letting her down. I hate it and all the thoughts it taunts me with.
“It’s not.” How can I show her what she means to me or how much she means to me if I can’t even keep the plans we’ve made for a simple dinner together?
“You’re not here to wine and dine me, Brody. You’re here to win and do what it takes to get there.”
“I’ll make it up to you.”
A breathy laugh echoes down the line as she replies, “Oh, I know you will.” There’s a suggestive edge to her voice that causes my pulse to quicken. A response that is impossible to control.
“Go do your thing, handsome.” I smile down the phone when Connor calls my name. “I’ll be here, waiting for you with room service.”
“Naked, sweetheart. I want you naked and wet.”
“Is that an order?” The sound of her hoarse laugh tells me she’s only more than happy to obey.
“I’ll leave as soon as I can.”
“And I’ll be naked, wet, and waiting for you.” This is all the incentive I need to get back to the meeting room and do everything I can to get out of here soon.
Connor is waiting at the door for me, typing furiously into his phone with a pissed off draw to his face.
“Get your ass chewed out, too?” he asks as we head inside.
“Say what?” I have no idea what he’s talking about, mostly because my mind is still on naked, wet, and waiting.
“Your call.”
“What about it?”
Connor shakes his head with a scoffed laugh. “You in the bad books too?”
“No.”
“Jesus, you’re one fucking lucky bastard. How’d you do it?” he asks as we take our seats and focus on the screens ahead of us with the car analytics. “How’d you get away with being here late again without being put in the doghouse?”
“It’s my job to be here and Rosie understands that.” Even if I still feel like I need to make it up to her.
“Rosie,” he blows out a long breath, the tone of his voice catching me off guard. I can’t tell whether he’s simply saying my girlfriend’s name or whether there’s more to its pensive softness. Regardless, I don’t like hearing it from his lips and it makes me bristle the longer he leaves it hanging between us like an unfinished thought.
“Yeah, she’s my girl.”
“She’s…quaint, you know, cute.” His cautious side glance sets me on edge, and I don’t care that we’ve found even ground to work on together and that it’s benefiting the team. If he chats shit about my angel, I’ll make sure he can never get in a car again, let alone drive one.
“Right. And?” I glare, grinding my words out so he knows to be careful with what comes out of his mouth next.
“Shit, dude,” he chuckles, leaning back to put distance between us. “I mean nothing by that. Not saying shit about her.”
“What are you saying?”
“Fuck, I guess I’m just surprised you’re not with someone more…”
“More?”
