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Saturdays are busy. This one, more than usual. Lots to clean up.
I frowned at her vague comment. Someone made a mess?
Her reply came back faster than the first one. More like something. Lighting rig fell yesterday in the middle of practice.
A flash of panic jolted me upright, but I resisted the urge to call her and opted for a text instead. Nice and casual. Are you okay?
That was casual, right?
I’m good. One dancer messed up her wrist, but that was the worst of it.
I let out a breath. I felt bad for the dancer, but I was relieved Sienna was okay. Probably a little too relieved, honestly.
Watching practice, or do you have a minute to chat?
I didn’t know why I was asking. It’s not like we had long, deep conversations. We bickered, we fucked, we bickered again—that pretty much summed up our entire relationship.
I’m in my office listening to music to find something for next week. I’m guessing you’re at your office using talking to me as an excuse to not work.
I grinned. Wrong. I’m at home.
Then you’re working there.
I laughed. Got me. And I’m only working from here because my office smells like tuna.
Three dots appeared, then vanished for several seconds before reappearing. A series of emojis followed, all conveying the same thing: what?
Settling back into my seat, I explained what had happened at my building, and she filled me in on the chaos at the club. Seemed like we were both having less-than-stellar weeks.
Sounds like we could both use a chance to relax with a nice Scotch or a glass of wine. I’ve always been partial to Shannon’s.
Gavin told me your brother makes it.
As our conversation shifted from business to personal, I sprawled on the couch, work forgotten, all my attention focused on our text exchange.
Is good Scotch the only way you like to relax?
My eyebrows shot up at her question. Maybe I was imagining it, but that sounded a little… flirty.
There are other things I enjoy just as much. Sometimes more.
I hoped I wasn’t reading too much into it, but if I was, I figured she’d set me straight. One thing I knew for sure about her was that she had no qualms about voicing her opinions.
Yeah, those other things don’t suck.
Or sometimes they do. My cock twitched at the thoughts that paraded through my mind, and I reached down to adjust myself as I waited for her reply.
You wish. The two words were accompanied by eggplant and mouth emojis.
“Shit,” I muttered, palming my cock through my jeans. “Yeah, I do wish.”
I didn’t tell her that, though. Instead, I played it cool. If you were here, we could both and I ended it with a mouth emoji.
Very cool.
That is something we haven’t gotten to do yet and I can’t say that I haven’t thought about it.
My eyebrows shot up. Was she really going there?
