Page 76
Story: An Accidental Flatmate
“I’m going to tell Hunt I’ve been sharing this apartment with you for the past four weeks.” Cas rolled over until he was crouched above her, and their gazes locked.
“Sharing the flat implies a harmless bit of adults cohabiting.” She looked away.
He wasn’t sure what she was asking, or saying.
She’d told him she was unavailable. That this was a fling. Even as he’d accepted her terms, he’d known it wasn’t a fling for him, but he’d been selfish enough to steal these weeks for himself.
It wasn’t enough anymore.
“I’ll wait for the questions, but Hunt’s known me since I was a kid. Says he can read me like a book.” He rubbed his nose against hers.
“He’ll hardly ask if you’re jumping my bones.”
“He’s more delicate in his questioning, but if he asks me if we’re having a relationship I’ll tell him the truth. He and I have a rhythm, so I’ll tell him.” He smiled. “I don’t regret a moment of the last month. Maybe making you spill your hot chocolate that first evening, but that’s all. Will you tell Anna?”
“Girls do it differently,” she said.
“You don’t waste time on small talk. Straight into the details.”
“I asked her to rate Hunter’s kisses.”
“What’s my rating?” He nuzzled her throat.
“Good.” She paused. “Heading toward great. Maybe stupendous. Can we talk about this tomorrow?”
Words to strike fear into a man’s heart.
He rolled to the side of the bed. “There’s not much point in pretending we’re casual acquaintances at tonight’s function after we shared our café kiss.”
Her insistence on this niggled as well. Cas didn’t plan to spend the night in her pocket. That wasn’t their style, but he didn’t want to pretend nothing had changed between them either.
“This is still a professional gathering.”
“What? And we’re not allowed to arrive together? What’s your problem, Beatriz?” Unless he was the only one with skin in the game, and she hadn’t changed her mind since they’d started this?
“Jackson Smithers is going to be there.” She was rumpled from lovemaking, draped in a barely-there sheet and frowning.
“And? You’ll have to do better than that.”
“Martin was due to interview my intern Rachel this afternoon to ask about my backpack and whether anyone other than me touched it. Evidence to ensure that I won’t be working as Jackson’s personal lapdog.”
“You think Jackson will come gunning for you at the function?” Cas hadn’t considered that, and it explained some of Bea’s off mood. “He’d be mad to do it.”
“I don’t know. I’m trying to minimise damage.” She pushed off her side of the bed. “I’d better shower.”
“We could shower?” He waggled his eyebrows, but she didn’t bite. She was seriously rattled. “We play it your way.”To start.“But, I’ll drive us to the function. I’ll drop you a block away and sort out a park. We can decide how we’re getting home later.”
“Thank you.”
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It took longer thananticipated for Cas to find a parking spot, so it was close to twenty minutes before he walked into the ballroom of the luxury hotel atop the city’s remodelled historic sandstone post office—a ballroom now converted to an opulent conference venue. Cas stood near the entrance to survey the crowd. He knew about half the people present. Colleagues in his own and other companies, a number of existing clients, but it was his job to chat up the newcomers.
Forty minutes later, he was still circling. No one had asked him to his face if he and Beatriz were an item, but he’d seen a few glances slide from him to her, watched whispered conversations behind hands, a knowing smile exchanged. Al’ama. He’d kept his distance, behaved as he always did at these functions. She’d done the same.
He shouldn’t have shared their first kiss in the café. It had shifted her work dynamic, and prompted gossip neither of them was comfortable with. Especially not his very private Ms. Gomez.
A spur-of-the-moment decision on his part, prompted by her nervousness, her bewilderment at her boss’s betrayal, and his sudden lightbulb realisation that he’d always wanted to. He wasn’t sorry, because it had given them a new starting point. He wanted to kiss her now, to draw her close and whisper in her ear that none of the gossip mattered. What mattered was what they were starting to create.
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