Blurred Lines
Page 37

We fixed that.
Chapter 15
Parker
The Thursday after our karaoke adventure, I make the unpleasant realization that I’ll need to work late. Really late.
It’s been one of those days where back-to-back meetings equals zero desk time, and zero desk time means that I haven’t had a chance to address those “urgent” emails, nor pull together my weekly report for tomorrow’s meeting with my boss.
Definitely an after-five kind of work night.
I finally get a five-minute break between meetings, and it gives me a chance to pee, grab a much-needed Diet Coke, and text my carpool buddy who also happens to be my fu—, er, sex buddy, who also happens to be my best friend.
I shake my head as I pull out my cellphone, marveling, not for the first time, at how intertwined my life is with Ben Olsen’s.
Especially lately.
On paper, I’m sure we look unhealthy, spending so much time together, especially now that we’ve added nights—all night—to the mix.
But the thing is, it doesn’t feel unhealthy.
Because if it were, I wouldn’t feel so happy all the time, right?
And I do.
Feel happy, that is.
I guess that’s the power of regular orgasms?
I text him:
Hey, you okay if I work late? Maybe Jason could give you a ride home?
I start to put my phone away, but he texts back immediately, probably between meetings himself.
Nah, I’ll wait around. Have some things I can work on.
Cool. Meet you at the car around 7?
Yup.
I set my phone on top of my notebook and start to head toward the conference room when it buzzes again.
Wanna grab dinner out tonight? Somewhere expensive? My treat. I’ve got news.
My eyebrows lift. Olsen, you asking me out on a date?
His response is immediate.
Totally. I hope you like the three dozen pink carnations I ordered. I also wrote love notes all over your windshield.
I smile. And *this* is why you don’t have a girlfriend.
Why would I need a girlfriend when I’m getting regular sex from my hussy roommate?
“What are you looking so happy about?” I jump as I see Lori and Eryn walking toward me.
Lori slows her walk and makes a slight face toward Eryn.
Eryn, in all her inappropriateness, tries to look at my phone, and I lock it before she can see the screen. The last thing I need is for the office snot to learn about Ben and me.
Or for Lori to learn.
“Ooh, I know that look,” Eryn says in an annoying singsong voice. “Parker’s texting her boyfriend.”
“Actually, Lance dumped me,” I say with a wide smile. “Thanks for bringing it up, though.”
She has the decency to look slightly embarrassed by her gaffe, but I don’t like her enough to reassure her that I haven’t really thought about Lance in days.
Eryn slinks into the conference room, but Lori and I don’t immediately follow. It’s our weekly team meeting, and our boss is always late.
I take a sip of my Diet Coke and Lori moves closer. “Okay, don’t make me ask again.”
I frown in confusion. “About what?”
She rolls her eyes. “Did you call him?”
Him …Him…Him who…?
Oh. Him.
“Not yet,” I say, pretending to be fascinated with my pop can.
Lori has asked me every day this week whether I’ve called the guy from the karaoke bar, and I’m running out of excuses.
There’s no good way to tell her that the only reason I’d call that guy was if I was still pursuing my hookup agenda.
And there’s also not a good way to tell her that the only reason I even talked to that guy in the first place was because she and Ben were looking all twosome-ish up there onstage, and I’d felt…not jealous, precisely.
But maybe a little thrown off by not being the one up there onstage with Ben.
Still, the guy at the bar—Brandon—had really seemed like a decent kind of guy. Funny, normal…
And yet, I have absolutely zero interest in calling him.
I’m saved from having to think up yet another excuse when we spot our boss heading toward us, cellphone tucked under her chin, even as her finger furiously swipes across the iPad that she’s never without.
The meeting runs long.
So does the meeting after that, and the one after that, and then I get pulled into an impromptu review session with some designers who can’t agree on a color scheme.
By the time I get back to my desk, Lori’s left a note that she’s gone for the day and to Call The Guy TONIGHT.
Sigh.
I race through my emails, none of which were as urgent as the senders seemed to think, but my reporting takes longer than I expect because I get an error on every other screen.
By the time I get to the car Ben’s leaning against my Prius, messenger bag across his shoulder, totally focused on his cellphone.
“This is why I gave you my spare set of keys,” I say, unlocking the door as I approach. “So you don’t have to wait in the cold.”
He looks up. Grins. “Forgot ’em.”
“By forgot ’em, do you mean lost ’em?” I ask.
“They’re around,” he says as we both toss our bags into the backseat and climb into the car.
Yup. He’s totally lost them.
I turn to face him before starting the car. “That’s why you wanted to go out to dinner, huh? You’ve lost my keys and you know how expensive they are to replace? You’re buttering me up.”