The Dirty Series 1(77)

…Because the sex was indescribably good.

That doesn’t mean he wants anything more to do with me. That doesn’t mean I want anything more to do with him.

You do want more to do with him.

I don’t want anything more from him unless he’s going to prove himself. Remember Michael???

He did prove it.

On and on and on.

On top of that, Alec doesn’t message me again, and I want to message him so badly I can taste it.

I hold back, though. I need to decide how I’m going to play this before I say another word to him.

When the workday is over, I still haven’t made up my mind, even though Alec has a lot going for him. He’s hotter than sin and fucks better than any man I’ve known.

Still, I can’t dispel the nagging doubt: Can he be tender? Can he make love? Would he love me for more than this electric, fiery connection?

I don’t know.

My head aches with indecision. It’s true. I’m the kind of person who will change anything and everything if it suits me, but I never make those decisions at random. They are carefully considered, no matter how it looks from the outside.

I just can’t decide.

Go after him?

Leave him behind?

You’ll never really be able to leave him behind, my inner voice repeats for the umpteenth time.



When my phone vibrates with Christian’s text, I’m sprawled on the couch in my apartment, watching a shitty Netflix movie, the scenes flickering in front of my eyes, but none of it sinking in.

Purple Swan. 8:30. I have a date for you!

Ugh, I can’t. Richard was such a disaster, and Alec is so fucking heavenly, that there’s no way I can sit through an evening of drinks and empty banter with some random idiot who can’t compare.

Can’t. Busy.

I drop my phone back onto the couch next to me and try to focus on the television. I’ve been so consumed with replaying the memories over and over again in my mind of two nights with Alec, my own Emmy award-winning production, that what’s playing on the TV right now holds no interest for me. Two nights! It’s been more like a TV show marathon than a two-hour-weeknight movie. There’s been lots of action, but I have no idea what the plot is.

The phone buzzes again, almost immediately.

Come on, Jess—it’s going to be fun!

Rick wasn’t exactly a hit.

I know, but this guy is nothing like Rick.

I’m tired, Chris.

One drink.

Whyyyyy

Aren’t we close friends? Don’t you want to see us?

You know I love you but my couch is my date for the night

Christian isn’t very good at taking no for an answer, so it doesn’t surprise me when my phone rings signaling an incoming call within moments after I send the last text, his name flashing brightly on the screen.

“Chris. I am not coming out to the Purple Swan. It’s been a long—”

“Jess, you have to let me make it up to you for setting you up with Richard. He was a friend of a friend who wanted me to show him a good time while he was in town. I swear, this guy is nothing like him.”

“I’m not staying long.”

Christian’s voice perks up. “You don’t have to stay long. Just come out for an hour, have a good time. Take today off your mind. I know that office job of yours sucks.”

He has no idea how much it sucks. When I’m not fantasizing about Alec, I’m fantasizing about picking up and moving somewhere else—anywhere else—so I don’t have to spend another hour at the Colton-Hayes headquarters. I just don’t have a passion for organizing last-minute projects. Everyone else’s failure to plan becomes my emergency. I’m so over it.

I bite my lip, considering Christian’s offer.

At the very least, a night out with my friends—even if I am half considering leaving them behind in exchange for a fresh start—could help me focus on something other than Alec for a couple of hours. Maybe it’ll give me enough perspective that I can make a logical fucking decision about all of this.

That’s what I need. Perspective.

I’m also starving. I only picked at my lunch because I was so conflicted about the Alec situation, I could barely eat. If nothing else, the food at the Purple Swan will be worth it. It always is.

“Fine.”

“That’s what I like to hear,” Chris says, laughing at my grudging acceptance.

“This guy had better be hot,” I say, sighing. I’m going to need to ask Carolyn to borrow a dress and then spend time on my hair and makeup. It would be far easier to just stay planted on the couch, but who am I kidding? I’d end up pacing the room in an attempt to rid myself of this obnoxious nervous energy.

I hear Carolyn’s key in the lock—she must have been working a little late today—and when she appears at the door to the living room, I give her a smile and a wave that she returns before flopping down on the couch next to me.