Page 21 of Hotshot
“I could use your help.”
I hung my head and released a theatric gush of air. “So this is what extortion feels like.”
He snorted. “I have no mal intent whatsoever. I don’t want money, hockey tickets, or ten seconds worth of fame. However, I would like ten minutes of your time to convince you to do a commercial and an ad campaign for the mill.”
“A commercial,” I repeated, adding in a confused tone, “Thatwas your proposition. I sort of remember now.”
“Yes, I would normally go through your agent, but he hasn’t answered our calls. In a way, I get it. We’re a family-owned business based in Denver, and it’s hard to make wood sound sexy without being crass.” Hank gave a sophomoric grin, adding, “We’ll pay you, of course, and?—”
“No, I’m sorry, but…I can’t.”
I slid my cup next to his on the desk and sheepishly stalked over to the pile of clothes he’d probably folded for me after I’d performed a drunken striptease.
Yeah, it was all coming back to me, and the shame was real.
I wriggled my boxer briefs on under the towel, let it drop, and then finished getting dressed.
Hank sighed heavily. “It wouldn’t take much of your time. A couple of hours, tops. We’re a solid company with?—”
“Doesn’t matter,” I intercepted. “It wouldn’t work. I can’t—I can’t talk to people.”
“We’re talking right now.”
“Yeah, I know, and it’s weird. Maybe that’s because last night happened, and I feel like I know you better than I should. But new day, old me. I play hockey. That’s it. I don’t do commercials, and I avoid talking to the public whenever possible.” I pulled my socks on and shoved my feet into my shoes. “Honestly, it would have been easier if you’d just wanted to have sex.”
Hank’s eyebrows shot to his hairline. “That would be extremely unprofessional, not to mention morally suspect on my part.”
“Yeah, yeah. But easy. In and out, one and done. No drama.” I slipped my jacket on as I moved toward the door. “You’re hot, you’re nice, you have a cowboy hat…”
He followed me. Of course, he did. “A cowboy hat? What does that have to do with anything?”
“I like cowboy hats,” I said defensively.
“Yeah, you mentioned that last night. More than once.”
“It’s not weird. I like ’em on girls too.”
“Good to know, but I’m more curious that you’d seemingly rather have sex with a stranger than learn a few lines for an ad campaign. Or did I get that wrong?”
“No, you’re correct.”
Hank regarded me like a bug under microscope. “Guide me through the thought process on that one, please.”
“My inhibitions were compromised last night. If the chemistry and the timing was right, maybe something sexy would have happened…if you’d been interested.” I shruggedimpotently. “But I admit, it’s weird in the daylight. I don’t know anything about you. You could be happily married with a beautiful family, cats and dogs. Oh, fuck. Please, please, please tell me you don’t have a wife and kids.”
He barked a laugh. “Geez, no. I’m not married.”
“Do you have a girlfriend?”
“I’m single…and gay,” he confirmed. “Which means less than nothing here. You and I were never going to have sex.”
I rolled my eyes. “My point stands, though—sex is easy. I’m assuming it would be easy with a guy too. I’ve never done that. I’m definitely interested, but wow…I shouldn’t have said that. Don’t quote me. And this is why I can’t talk. Talking is hard.”
“And yet he’s still talking,” Hank snarked.
He was right. If I kept this up I’d be out of words before noon. “Look, I know you got more than you bargained for last night and maybe I owe you that ten minutes, but it would be a failure. Trust me, you don’t want me. You’ll have to think of another form of payment.”
“Okay, be my friend.”