Page 18 of Backup Plan
“Fuck work. Spend the day with me,” he says. I glance over at him as I step into my shoes, and part of me wishes it were just that easy. That I could skip out on work and lie naked with him. We could shower together, or maybe take that bath I dreamed of last night. We could drink coffee in bed and feed each other chocolate croissants without spilling any crumbs on that gorgeous blanket, and the maid could come in and serve us and also leave fresh flowers on the nightstand, and time can just stand still while we do all of this.
See? None of this is based in reality, from the lack of crumbs to the fresh flowers.
Instead, reality is that I need to go to work because I’m relying on the paycheck to get me out of the house I’m sharing with Brent. Reality is that I need to be in the school pickup line by two forty-five, because if I’m not, that means I’ll be waiting in line for an extra half hour while my kids wonder where I am. Reality is that Benji has soccer practice at four, Sammy has baseball practice at five, neither are at the same park, and sometime before or after that, I need to make dinner and sit and read with both of them and go over math facts and sign the papers the teachers sent home.
So as much as I’d like to fuck work and spend the day naked with Liam, I simply can’t.
He pads over to me as I straighten after my shoes are on, and he sweeps me up into his arms.
I gasp. “Put me down!”
He chuckles as he tosses me down onto the bed, and he’s on top of me a moment later, hovering, smiling, pinning me in place. He’s sexy, and he’s fun, and God, do I want more time with him.
Fuck work.
He drops his lips to mine, and he thrusts his hips against me. He’s hard. He’s ready. An ache pulses between my legs.
God, do I want him again.
Last night was so good. I can only imagine how good it would be this morning, both of us sober, with maybe some feelings involved now.
But I can’t. His lips trail from mine to my neck, and I let out a heavy sigh as reality plows into me again. “Ugh, Liam. I wish I could spend the day with you, but I really do need to get to the office.”
He freezes then pulls back from my neck. He twists his lips. “I know. I probably need to get to San Diego, too. Reality sucks.”
I laugh as he straightens and stands, and he helps me to a stand, too. “Yes, it does.” I wrap my arms around him and squeeze his ass once more for good measure.
He grabs a pair of shorts, a shirt, and his slides, and he leads the way downstairs. I’m trying to come up with something clever to say, something that will express how great last night was, how I don’t want to leave it in the past even though we both know we have to.
I come up short.
And then my eyes fall onto the clock. Shit. It’s nearly nine, and I’m usually at the office by now. I haven’t checked my schedule for the day, but it’s Thursday, and I have a standard Thursday morning meeting at nine.
“Can I get you something to eat?”
I shake my head. “I have a meeting at nine. I’ll just grab a protein shake at home.”
“Can I walk you back to your car?” he asks.
I duck as I offer a small smile. “I’d like that.”
He clutches my hand in his as we walk from his building to my car, me in the clothes I wore last night, him in shorts, a T-shirt, and flip-flops, and it feels so good, so natural to walk with him.
Too good. Too natural.
Dangerously good. Dangerously natural.
When we get to my Honda Pilot, I click the button to unlock it. The wind is whipping again, as usual, and I shiver in the cool breeze. Or maybe I’m shivering because I have to say goodbye.
He wraps his arms around me, somehow warm to my freezing, and I don’t want him to let go.
He leans forward and presses his lips to mine, and when he pulls back, I feel a little dizzy.
“Thanks for a great night,” he says. “I’ll see you around.” He’s so calm and cool while I feel like I’m going to melt into a puddle of need for him.
I clear my throat and force a clear head. I offer a small smile. “See you around.”
And then I get into my car, start it up, and drive away, leaving him—and our night—in my rearview.
