Page 20 of A Vegas Crush Collection #3

we did talk about business

Devon

I wake up disoriented and sore, confused by the beeping that turns out to be my alarm clock. Fumbling for the snooze, I lie back down, trying to get my brain to work.

Grant was here until after midnight. He left regretfully, apologizing, saying he wished he could stay. I kissed him all the way to the door, watching him slip out into the night before padding back to bed and falling into one of the deepest sleeps of my life.

When the alarm goes off again, I force myself up and into my running clothes.

I’ll have to Uber to work today because my car is still in the Crush parking structure where I parked it yesterday morning.

Christ. We were so desperate to be together, both of us just abandoned our cars there to come here… and come.

I have no idea if Grant took a cab back to the offices after he left here to collect his car or just went home. I can only pray nobody at work catches on to the fact that both of our vehicles were parked there into the wee hours of the morning.

For a solid two miles, I manage to focus only on my gait, my steps, the movement of my arms, and my breathing. But then the panic sets in. This is not a good idea. Secretly sleeping with the new GM? I am an idiot. Why did I let that happen? How could I let it happen?

It was just supposed to be dinner. A business dinner. And yes, we talked about work, but that spark simply grew and grew until it threatened to set the table on fire.

No alcohol involved this time.

This is no fluke, this thing with Grant.

And the sex?

Oh my, glorious, God.

So, good.

Like, it’s making me blush out here on my morning run just remembering it, kind of good.

But…the flutters of anxiety are definitely present.

The flip of my stomach. My heartbeat out of control.

My fuzzy head and the feeling that I might pass out right here on the street.

I slow my run to a jog, then a walk as my skin goes cold and clammy.

I stop, crouching, head between my legs as I throw up.

Right there beside the sidewalk, I toss my cookies into the dirt, a full-blown panic attack fully achieved.

Go me.

Unable to run any farther, I text Gia, telling her what just happened.

When I get home, I’m tired and anxious, still feeling nauseated.

This viral bug is the worst and so unpredictable.

Thankfully, Gia meets me at the door to my apartment, putting her hand on my forehead like some old auntie taking my temperature.

“You don’t feel like you have a fever,” she crows as we head inside. Straight to the refrigerator, she grabs a seltzer water and tips some into a glass as I flop onto the couch, exhausted.

“What’s up with you, friend?” she asks, handing me the cold drink.

I hold the cool glass to my forehead for a moment before finally taking a sip, the carbonation instantly calming my stomach. “I’m a stupid idiot.”

“There are words I might use to describe you, Dev, but stupid and idiot are not among them. I’ll need more explanation, please.”

“I slept with him again.”

Gia’s face mashes in confusion at first, but then it dawns on her. “Oh. Oh! Hottie guy from the hotel.”

I nod, tipping my head back against the couch cushions. “Grant Gerard. Newly hired GM of the Crush. My employer.”

“How did that happen?” Gia asks before adding, “I mean, I know how sex happens. I meant, how did you end up in his orbit in that particular way?”

“I hadn’t seen him in like two weeks. He came down yesterday morning to say he was sorry for being cold or whatever at our introduction.

I let him off the hook because, frankly, we can’t be screwing around like this.

But then he said he needed a friend and asked me to a business dinner. And I said yes.”

“To a business dinner.” Gia’s tone is flat.

“Yes. And we did talk about business.”

“But.”

“But.” I sigh. “He’s hot. And there’s this—thing—between us.”

“Some might call that his erect penis,” my friend says with a laugh, earning the side-eye from me.

“Well, Gia, it is rather magnificent, as penises go. Big, talented, endlessly powerful.” I throw my hands up in defeat. “Chemistry, my dear. Seriously. Too much chemistry between us to fight it a moment longer. It was like I was suffocating from the need for sex…with him.”

“Wow.” She sounds impressed. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you toot someone’s horn quite like that. Congratulations.”

“No. Not congratulations, Gia. This is not good. I can’t be sleeping with the new GM. It will get us both fired. I can’t have every attempt at a perfectly professional working relationship go sideways when he looks at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes of his.”

“Like, literally sideways,” she says with a snort.

“You’re not helping.”

“Sorry, not sorry. So, you were having dinner and you got all hot and bothered…”

Another sigh from me. “And we ended up here and it was like we were both under the influence of some otherworldly sexual power or something. And it was absolutely amazing. I really, really like him, Gia. Grant Gerard is a lovely man.”

“Well, shit.”

“Ya think?”

“What are you going to do?”

I throw my hands up. “I don’t know. I guess I’m his secret sex bunny now or something. Because neither of us wants to stay away, but we can’t really be public about it while we work at the same place.”

Gia sniggers. “Secret sex bunny is also not a term I’d have ever associated with you, Dev. Who are you and what have you done with my introverted, rule-following friend?”

“Maybe I can get the business launched earlier than next summer. Or we can just sneak around for the season. I don’t know.”

“Well, take it day by day. I mean, I’ve had great sex with guys who turned out to be total turds. Don’t put this guy on a pedestal just because he’s the first guy to rev your engine in a while.”

“It’s not like that though. He’s a good guy.”

“Still, you’ve known him for like two minutes. Get to know him. Take it slow. No need to go public while you’re just learning about each other anyway.”

“You’re probably right. I’m jumping the gun. If things get serious, I guess we’ll figure that out when and if it comes.” I take another sip of my drink and then rub the side of the cool glass against my forehead.

Gia asks, “You feeling any better? You’re not pregnant, are you?”

My stomach sinks as I remember the weird condom issue on the night we met.

But he said he couldn’t get his wife pregnant, even though they tried for a long time.

“No. I mean, I’ve been feeling really crummy lately, but I’m sure it’s just nerves about Grant and the side business and whatnot.

I’ve had anxiety before. This feels like anxiety. ”

“Well, you might want to invest in some heavy-duty birth control. That guy looks like he could get you pregnant by just smiling at you.”

I laugh and force myself up. “I’ve got to get ready for work. Thanks for taking care of me.”

“Anytime, chump,” she says, heading to the door. “I’ll check in later tonight.”

I try to put it out of my mind, but as my stomach crawls with nausea all through my shower, I can’t stop thinking about the broken condom and the man who said he couldn’t get anyone pregnant.

His ex got pregnant quickly with her new boyfriend, right?

That’s what he said. So that proves I can’t be pregnant because he can’t get anyone pregnant.

It’s probably fine, right?