Page 87 of The Merger

Gannon: For fuck’s sake.

I grin, happy that I can rile him up even when he’s across the country.

Me: Well, does it?

Gannon: Therein lies the problem. I want to see you, but I have to go straight from the airport to the banquet.

Me: THAT SUCKS. I could suck, too, though. Just saying.

The pause is longer than before. This time, I know there’s no way he misunderstood anything I said.

“Maybe he’s just busy,” I say after a little while. “Heison a work trip.”

While that is logical and even probable, I don’t quite believe that’s all that’s going on. If something was important enough to require him not to be distracted, he wouldn’t be texting me. Hell, the man continued a Zoom call while I masturbated in front of him.

Gannon: Would you want to go with me? I don’t want to stay any longer than necessary.

I stare at the screen. “Do I want to go with you? In public?”

My stomach twists as I consider his request. It’s pretty ballsy considering we agreed Tate could never know about us. And Gannon was adamant that he’s not the relationship kind of guy, so I know he doesn’t want to risk his brother finding out and making a mess of things when our situationship inevitably falls apart.

“So why did you ask me, Gannon? What’s so important about this event that you would risk someone outing us?”

I nibble my lip. It doesn’t quite make sense. But, at the end of the day, I trust him.

If he wants me to go, I’ll go.

Me: And then I can sit on your face?

Gannon: If you don’t, there’ll be hell to pay.

Me: Count me in. What should I wear? I’m assuming this is fancy since it’s you.

Gannon: Carys, you could wear a fucking potato sack and be the hottest person in the room. Wear what you want. It’ll only be on you for a couple of hours anyway.

Me: I love when you talk dirty to me.

There’s another pause before his text pops up.

Gannon: I need to go. Talk soon.

I glance at my cold grilled cheese.

Me: Cool. Talk to you soon.

Gannon: Good night, Miss Matcha.

Me: Good night.

Chapter Twenty

Carys

Thursday

“That’s not what happened, Tate.” I swallow a french fry and stare at him across the table. “Did you even watch the movie?”

“Yes, I did. That’s how I know what happened.”