Her Billionaires_ Boxed Set(21)

She liked the hike idea. Oh, my God. Oh, my God. He sucked down more coffee, the hot liquid helping to regenerate his brain cells, making him come alive and think think think to say the right answer.

Which was...? Smacking his forehead, he ran both hands over his head: twitchy fingers through his hair, his other palm grazing a day’s growth on his chin. Jesus. She was saying yes! The coffee felt like a pool of hot lead in his gut now as he raced to reply, typing out a response. OK, OK, breathe dude. Breathe, breathe, breathe. What could he say?

What could he say? Keep it simple. With a shaking finger, he wrote:

OK. So, how about this afternoon. After work? You wanna do lunch and then go for hike? I know a great spot in this State Park, a nice easy trail, it won’t be too hard on you.

He hit enter and then realized that that was probably one of the stupidest things he could have said, his fingers itching to find some magical “retract” button, a switch he could flip to withdraw his words from cyberspace.

Fuck! He wasn’t implying that she was out of the shape, he didn’t mean to... oh, shit. Mike, you idiot! He buried his head in his hands and fully expected her little icon to go away and disappear, and for Laura to think he was just a double failure at this shit, to go running back to Dylan—who knew how to handle women. Then again, if he was that good, why was Laura chatting right now?

She replied:

Sounds good. I’ll wear my hiking boots, don’t worry. I have feet, I can walk, I can use them, I can even move them independently while chewing gum.

And funny, too! He laughed and wrote back:

OK, phew, good to know. I like bipeds

and typed down his phone number. Laura sent hers back and he realized that he needed to say something, yet had no idea what to say because this was the first time that he had actually found a woman, on his own, without Dylan.

Yeah, yeah, yeah— technically Dylan had found her, but Dylan had no idea that he was independently pursuing her. The not-inconsequential fact that he had just essentially sniped her couldn’t be ignored, either.

Wow! He just stared at his smart phone, dumbfounded, willing away an erection that ignored the effort, no hope that it was going to go away. He could tell as he just stared at the blinking cursor.

Finally she wrote back,

Hello, hello. Are you there, Mike?

Oh, Jesus. He startled as he realized he needed to respond, and quickly typed back,

Yeah, sorry. Not enough coffee yet. So, great, it’s a date? And thanks.

She wrote back a little smiley face, and he realize as he leaned back in the chair that he may have just made the biggest mistake of his life.



Had she really just made a date less than three hours after sneaking out of another guy’s bed? She opened up one of the seventeen texts from Josie which, as she scrolled through them, appeared to all be variations of “Please tell me about the hot guy.”

So she finally decided to put Josie out of her misery and typed out, “Hey. Awesome night. Will tell you the deets later”, hit “send” and almost instantly got back a response.

What do you mean later? Hell, no. I’m coming over.

She wrote back:

Can’t. I’m late for work as it is. Let’s just say I need a shower this morning.

and hit “Send”.

Squeeeee

was Josie’s reply.

Do you have another date?

Do I have another date? Oh, yeah, Josie, I have another date. It’s just not with the same guy. Ugh, how was she going to tell her this? She needed two showers. One to wash off Dylan and the other one to wash off her own skank.

This was getting ridiculous. She typed back:

There’s a lot to this. Will write more later. Talk later.

She hit “Send” and turned her phone over, leaving Josie hanging, and padded into the shower. Indeed, it was time to wash off Dylan and her own... er... her own sense of ambiguity? Indecision? Disappointment?

Revelation? For she had learned so much these past few days, mostly about herself. In some ways, she was surprised to realize, it didn’t matter that Dylan was with someone else. In the past, that would have crushed her, but now—now she felt a renewed sense of power. Of strength. Stripping down and turning up the temperature on the shower’s spray, she felt her body melt into the hot water, the sting of the jets tearing her away from her looping thoughts, putting the focus back on her body. Rivulets of water streamed over her breasts, down her belly, with its gentle curves and lush skin, pooling at her V and sliding down her thighs, a familiar heat rushing into her womanhood.

It may have been only a few hours since she’d left his bed, but his mark really was on her. Closing her eyes, she remembered his touch and felt an incongruous sense of guilt. Guilt? He’s the one who had a girlfriend or wife. Yet here she was, scheduling a date with a stranger hours after having Dylan in her. On her. All over her.