Page 11 of Dating the Boss

I sent that one before sending a second.

Me:I’m so sorry, Mr. Sawyer! I was texting someone else when you messaged, and I got the message threads mixed up.

I saw the read receipt, and the wait for him to message me back was pure torture. I debated on smashing my phone, getting a new number, changing my name, and fleeing town. Because there was no way in hell I could ever show my face to him after this. My only saving grace was that I hadn’t sent him the video of me jacking off.

Nowthatwould’ve sent me to an early grave.

His response never came. He left me onread.

I clicked on my contact list and called Quinn.

“Hello?” he answered in a croaky voice after four rings.

“I sent a sext to my boss!”

“Huh?” Shuffling sounded on his end of the phone. Shit, I hadn’t even looked at the time. It was after eleven. Quinn was an early bird and went to bed at like ten o’clock. “You did what?”

“I sexted my boss,” I repeated, sounding just as panicked as I felt. “Oh my god, Beck, I said I wanted to suck his cock and make him come. The text wasn’t meant for him, and I quickly told him it was a mistake, but he just read my message and didn’t respond. Oh my fucking god, I’m a dead man.”

“Okay, take a breath and calm down,” Quinn said, and hearing his own calm tone helped me a little. “You explained it was a mistake, right? Shit happens. I’m sure he understands.”

“Who you talking to?” Monty sleepily mumbled, his voice distant.

“Reed,” Quinn answered. “He sexted his boss.”

“What?” More shuffling, and then Monty was talking to me. “You sexted your boss? Fuck, man.”

“It was an accident!” My heart rate spiked again. “I think I’m dying. Put Quinn back on the phone. Your voice doesn’t soothe me.”

“His voice soothes you? The fuck? My voice is soothing too, Reed.”

“Give me that,” Quinn said before snatching the phone back. “I know this is embarrassing and—”

“Mortifying,” I corrected. “Embarrassing went out the window long ago.”

“Just explain it to him tomorrow in person,” he said. “Things can be misinterpreted through text.”

“Oh, I’m sure he interpreted the ‘I want to make you come so hard you forget your damn name’just fine.”

“Shit. Is that really what you said? Who was itmeantto go to?”

“Pikachu guy.”

Quinn laughed, then quickly said, “Sorry. I know this isn’t funny.”

“Damn right it’s not!” I groaned and flung myself back onto my bed, throwing an arm over my eyes. “You think fleeing town is enough, or should I change my identity too? I always thought I’d make a good Michael. I can chop off my hair and dye it blond too.”

“Oh, stop,” he said, laughing again. “And you better not ever dye your hair blond.”

Once we ended the call, I huffed and pulled the blanket over my head, making a little, protective cocoon.

I probably wouldn’t have a job come morning.

***

“You okay?” Jennifer asked as I left the breakroom and nearly bumped into her in the hall.

“What?” I jumped and barely managed not to spill my coffee. “Yeah. I’m fine.”