I fully expected a triumphant squeal followed by “I knew it was more than a booty call!”, but she just kept watching me.
I swallowed. “It’s…it’s at that early stage where you don’t quite know where it’s going. Like it’s not completely casual anymore, but you’re still getting to know the person, and it kind of seems like it could turn into something else. You know what I mean?”
Still silent, Teagan nodded.
“So right when we’ve reached that point, suddenly I’m spending all my waking hours here. This weekend? Shot. And I’m just afraid I’m going to screw this thing up by never seeing him. It’s not even… I mean, I don’t know what the hell we’re doing, or where we want this thing to go in the future.” I rubbed a hand over my face. “All I know is that I’m scared to death he’s going to slip through my fingers while I’m here building models for a firm that barely appreciates me.”
Teagan blinked a few times. “So, you say it’s at that early stage, but…” Folding her arms loosely, she shifted her weight. “You’ve got it bad, don’t you?”
“What makes you say that?”
“Because you were so caught up in telling me how afraid you are to lose this relationship, you didn’t even notice that you just came out to me.”
My stomach flipped. “Oh fuck. I did, didn’t I?”
She nodded, and a slight smile played at her lips. “I kind of had my suspicions, but…yeah.”
“Really? How?”
“Because sometimes, when you’re dating someone, you’re really evasive about pronouns.” She smiled. “I mean, you ogle Rick Pierce as much as Bianca and I do, and you got all flustered at the Christmas party whenever that hot waiter came by.”
I laughed nervously. “I… Is it that obvious?”
“Most straight guys don’t get all tongue-tied when they’re trying to order a drink from a guy.” She laughed. “It isn’t like I can blame you. That waiter made me drool too. And Pierce is smoking hot, so who wouldn’t quietly objectify him?”
You have no idea.
I cleared my throat and avoided her eyes. “Well, now you know. And I’m probably worried about nothing, to be honest. I’m probably kidding myself that this thing’s even got legs, regardless of how much I’m working. He’s… Well, let’s just say he could have a younger guy with a much less demanding job if he wanted to. But for the time being, while he’s into me, I’d like to enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Oh my God, Jon.” Rolling her eyes, she dropped her arms to her sides. “Do you hear yourself? Maybe he could have a younger guy with a part-time job, but he has you, so obviously he wants you.”
“Even when million-hour work weeks are par for the course?”
“Yes.” She sighed. “Honestly, you’re a good guy. If he sees that, he’ll wait. If he doesn’t, then he isn’t worth keeping anyway.”
“I guess we’ll see how it goes.”
“Yeah.” She held my gaze, her expression grave. “You do realize what this means, don’t you?”
I swallowed. “What?”
The corner of her mouth twitched. “Cal’s mom is going to be devastated.”
We both burst out laughing.
“Seriously, though.” She came closer, and to my surprise, she hugged me gently. “Just let him know you’ll make it up to him. You know as well as I do that in a week or so, we’re going to be back to wondering how the hell we can get our work to fill eight whole hours.”
“True.” I released her and met her gaze. “Thanks for the pep talk.”
“Any time.” She gestured at my list of supplies. “Do you need a hand with any of this?”
I pushed back my pride—with a model this urgent, I couldn’t afford not to take whatever help I could get. “Sure. Thanks.”
We both looked over the list, and while she collected a couple of spools of six-gauge wire from one of the tool chests, I pulled various colors and thicknesses of plastic and foam-core off a shelf, all the while trying not to think of what Rick might say once I told him this weekend was off. That we were back on “see you in the hallway” until…until I didn’t know when. That we couldn’t—
“Hey, Jon.” Teagan’s voice shook me back into the present.
“Sorry, what?”
She eyed me, then shook her head. “You really are out of it these days.” Thankfully, she didn’t try to get my thoughts out of me. Instead, she shoved a box of paint, glue and wire toward me. “Come on, fuckup. You’ve got a model to rebuild.”
Chapter Twenty
Eventually, the model was complete. After the client approved it, I took a few vacation days to give myself a long weekend. I crashed hard the first night. The second, Rick came by with a bottle of wine and some condoms, plus a gift card for a massage the next day.
The third night, my body feeling spectacular after the long-overdue sex and that morning’s amazing massage, I heard Rick’s car pull into the driveway, and my heart was already thumping. I had plans for him tonight, and couldn’t wait to show him what I’d spent the afternoon setting up in the basement.
I opened the door, and my pulse went even crazier. I couldn’t help smiling like an idiot as he came up the walk. Seeing him every day at the office just wasn’t the same.