He groaned. “Stop putting these images in my head. You’re killing me.”
A thrill of pleasure went through me. It felt good to be wanted, especially by a man like him.
“So you just called to check on the status of my panties? Or lack thereof?” I asked.
“No,” he sighed. “Actually, I called because I need to postpone our dinner.”
A sharp sting of disappointment at that, but I kept it out of my voice as I said, “That’s fine. I understand. Some other time.”
“I’m really sorry.”
“It’s fine.”
There was silence for a moment.
“I can maybe come by later,” he said. “When I get off.”
I felt a flash of anger at that. No time for dinner, but he had time to screw. “I’m busy later,” I said.
“Oh.”
More silence.
“So what are you doing then?” he asked.
“I’m … going out,” I said, thinking frantically. “With some girlfriends.” Yeah. That sounded legit.
“It’s awfully sudden,” he said. “When you were planning on having dinner with me.”
“Yeah, well, they asked but I said I had plans, but now I don’t so …”
I was proud of my ability to make my bullshit sound so incredibly authentic, until he asked, “Where are you going?’
Okay, I had no clue what to say on that one, so I blurted the first place that popped in my head. “The Underground.” I winced.
“Really? I wouldn’t think that was your kind of place,” he said, still sounding suspicious.
“Drinks, music, and dancing, what’s not to like?” I’d never been there in my life and was just going off what Monique had said. And if Parker had taken her there, it had to be at least a little on the nicer side. For a club.
“Okay then, I guess I’ll talk to you tomorrow,” he said.
“Yeah, sure.” Don’t sound anxious. Go for whatever-I’m-not-going-to-wait-around-for-your-call.
“Have fun,” he said.
“I’m sure I will. Bye.” I ended the call.
I was pissed off and hurt. I thought we were moving forward in our relationship, but I hated that he thought he could just tell me he loved me then expect to drop by for sex like I was some booty call girl. Not that he’d said the words I love you, but he’d implied them.
And now I had to put together a Girls’ Night Out at the last minute.
Hurrying to Megan’s desk, I caught her just as she was hanging up the phone.
“What’s up?” she asked. “Did Monique make nice and offer to split an M&M with you?”
“Doubtful,” I replied. “It goes straight to her hips, you know.”
We both grinned, amused at ourselves.
“No, seriously, I have to go out tonight,” I said. “Well, actually, we have to go out tonight. Me and you.”
“Go out? You mean like out out? On a Wednesday?”
“Yeah. And can you round up a couple other girls, too? Maybe Maggie and Kelly? They’re both fun.” Both women were single and worked in the Marketing department.
“I’ll text them,” she said, pulling out her cell. “And tell me again why we have to go out tonight?” she asked, her finger swiping over the tiny keyboard.
I sighed. “Because. I got pissed off at Ryker for cancelling our date. So I told him not to come by later because I was going out with friends.”
Megan raised an eyebrow as she glanced up at me. “And is there a reason you don’t want to have toe-curling sex with tall, dark, and dangerous?”
“It seems like I’m just the late-night booty call,” I said. “He’s too busy to take me out, but not too busy to come by, have sex, and fall asleep?” I shook my head. “I don’t want that.”
“I agree, that’s total bullshit,” Megan said. Her phone buzzed and she read the text. “Maggie and Kelly are in,” she said. “They want to know where and when.”
“Tell them The Underground at eleven.”
Megan groaned. “I am going to regret this tomorrow, aren’t I.”
I grinned at her. “You bet. Meet me at my place, nine o’clock. We’ll get ready together.” I headed back to my desk as she groaned again. “And don’t forget to hydrate,” I called back to her.
“The things I do for you,” she said.
I blew her a kiss and turned the corner.
A night out with the girls had been impromptu, but it sounded great. Maybe just what I needed to blow off some steam.
*
“No, don’t use that. I’ve got some with glitter.” I dug in my makeup bag, producing a stick of cream eye shadow and handing it to Megan. “It’ll go perfect with that dress.”
I loved Megan’s cocktail dress. Turquoise and black beads in varying sizes were sewn on the fabric, creating a gorgeous combination. It had elbow-length sleeves, a wide neck, and was made out of a stretchy material that clung to her.
I’d chosen a champagne-colored tulle cocktail dress with a scoop neck and cap sleeves. The fitted bodice and mini-length skirt were wrapped in glittering beads sewn on in various patterns. With a cutout back, it was elegant and sexy.
“Need a refill?” I asked, talking over the music playing.