Not Safe For Work: A Steamy Fake Dating Romance

Chapter 18

Another week fliesby with work consuming my life. Work and texts actually. Every time I hear that little chime I salivate like Pavlov’s dog. The problem is I never know what I’m going to get. It’s fifty-fifty odds between an adorable hedgehog pun or a very direct promise of an orgasm.

My physiological receptors are a mess.

But tonight, as soon as I get home, I silence my phone and blast my favorite playlist. My flight to Mexico leaves in the morning and I haven’t started packing yet. The chances of sleep tonight are slim.

All morning, I tried googling what to wear to a work event that’s also a tropical vacation where you’re bound to see your ex multiple times a day. The results were less than helpful.

So here I am, digging through my tiny closet for the perfect pair of shoes I definitely don’t own, when I hear someone banging on my door.

I’m only wearing a sports bra and joggers, so I grab a shirt and run to the door, trying to untangle it as I yank it over my head.

My hair is an actual rats’ nest by the time I get the shirt on and open the door.

“Scottie?”

“I’ve been calling you. I was worried.”

“Oh, umm, come in?” Not sure why I posed it as a question. “Sorry. I mean, hi. I had my notifications off. Didn’t want to be distracted.”

“Are you working on something?” He looks around my apartment, totally confused. He’s probably wondering why I need to be focused. But he’s a man. And he’s not about to be in Mexico with thirty-five co-workers who know he didn’t earn the trip. He’ll probably wait to pack in the morning since it’ll only take him five minutes.

“Just need to pack.”

“That’s what I figured. I came over to help.”

“To help me pack?” I ask.

“Yeah. I know you have trouble making decisions sometimes, and…look, I did call first.”

He drops his gaze and my heart tumbles after it. Gavin is an actual sweetheart. I never knew offering to help pack was my kink, but here we are.

So much for a crush. I am very into Gavin Scott.

“You okay?” he continues. “You look a little hot?” He reaches out to feel my cheek.

“I’m fine. That was really nice of you. To come over.”

His hand is still on my face, but his fingers move down to my mouth. I didn’t realize I was biting my lower lip until he releases it from my teeth. Just a little tug with the pad of his thumb. His eyes lock on my lips, and I forget how to breathe for a moment. Heat creeps up my spine until I feel like my entire body has been turned up several degrees.

“I should go turn down the music,” I say, a little breathier than I’d like. But as soon as I break away to turn it off, I’m reminded of the sounds it was drowning out.

“What the hell is that?” Gavin asks, spinning in a circle to try and place the noise. I laugh, knowing how jarring it is for people who don’t live this close to the wharf.

“Sea lions.”

“No way. You can hear them from here?”

“Yep. Every night. I’m pretty used to it, but they’re also why I always have music playing.”

“I like your music. Keep it on.” He turns toward my bedroom—if you can call it that—and throws me an optimistic smile. “So? Where should we start?”

Hesitantly, I show him the current packing situation. All I’ve got so far is a couple pairs of sandals and thirteen different swimsuits on the bed.

“The Sonoma Seals?” Gavin holds up my speedo I still have from middle school swim team. I’m not sure it even fits, but it’s the most conservative suit I own. Not that my others are particularly scandalous, but when you have double d’s, everything looks overly revealing.

“It’s a work trip. I don’t want to wear anything inappropriate,” I argue.

“This is inappropriate.” He throws the suit back on the bed. “Which one of these is your favorite?”

“Well, it depends on where I’m going and who I’m with and what I’m?—”

“You’re going to the beach, alone, with your favorite book. Which one would you bring?”

I look through the selection, nibbling my cheek. There’s one that’s hot barbie pink. The top is a triangle style that ties in the middle instead of the back, with thick strings that create a large bow. It’s totally impractical and would give me horrible tan lines, which is why I’ve never worn it. But I’m also obsessed with the look.

“That one,” I say, pointing to it.

“Great.” He grabs the suit and tosses it into the open suitcase next to my bed. “And if you found out your parents were about to show up, which one would you want then?”

I laugh. His method is silly but extremely helpful. “The blue one.”

He tosses the blue suit into my bag, and I grab the rest to put back in my closet.

He follows the same instructions for a few more outfits, specifically asking for my most comfortable clothes for the travel days, and shoes that don’t hurt to walk in. Whenever I struggle between options, he’s cutthroat. The whole process of packing for a trip is something I dread, but it’s like he turned it into a game. The kind of game I can’t lose.

“The first night is dressy-casual,” he says looking at his phone. He pulled up the itinerary for me, so I don’t miss anything. “And the second night says cocktail attire. That’s the awards dinner.”

“That’s easy. I just need two dresses.” I step toward my dress rack and slide all the casual sundresses to one side so I can see the fancier ones.

“You really like fashion, huh?” Gavin is sliding his hands through each hanger to inspect all my garments. He’s currently in my favorite section with all the sparkly and colorful dresses.

“Yeah, don’t worry. I won’t bring those. I have some simpler ones.” I grab the black silk dress from the other night, but then I put it back. It will feel too weird wearing it after all of Tristan’s comments. I reach for another plain one instead. It’s navy blue, nothing special, but shouldn’t offend anyone either.

“Why? I like these,” he says, taking the navy dress out of my hand and hanging it back up. “What about this one? He grabs a pink strappy slip that’s covered in sequins and little feathers. It has this modern-day flapper appeal that initially caught my eye. It’s gorgeous.

But way too much.

“I don’t think I want to draw that much attention to myself.”

“Come on, Sparkles.” He does a little shimmy, shaking the dress so it glitters even more. “A diamond’s gotta shine.”

My suitcase is packedin record time and my anxiety seems to be packed away in it too. We don’t have work tomorrow and I have nothing to do except make it to the airport, so I ask Gavin if he wants to have a glass of wine.

“I actually have a couple bottles I picked up last weekend, if you want to try something from our vineyard.”

“That sounds great.”

“What jersey is that?” I ask, sort of abruptly while I grab the wine. I’ve been eyeing his baby blue and white striped tee since he got here, the color matching his hoodie I stole almost exactly.

“It’s a Messi jersey,” he says, turning around to show me the name on the back. I shrug, clueless to what he means. “Football. Soccer, I guess. He plays for Argentina.”

“Oh,” I say, realizing quickly it’s a shit response. “Oh, right. That’s where you’re from. Are you a big fan? I’ve never really followed soccer.”

“Yeah, I guess. Can I try the wine now?”

I’m starting to realize he quickly changes the subject anytime our conversation shifts to his background. Not wanting to push, I pour two glasses of the Vega and slice up my last chunk of Midnight Moon, my very favorite California cheese.

I can’t help it, but I watch closely when he takes his first sip. This wine has always been special to me, ever since I was a little girl and my brothers showed me how to find Vega in the night sky.

“Sirius is bigger,” Owen would say.

“But if you find Vega, you can see the whole Lyra constellation. It looks like a harp,” Deacon always countered.

“What do you think?” I ask Gavin.

“That’s really good. It tastes like…umm…sorry, I can’t describe it. It reminds me of Christmas though.”

“Yes!” I practically jump off the couch. “You tasted baking spices. Cinnamon, nutmeg, that’s what makes it so complex.”

“What’s my prize?” he asks.

Before I even realize what I’m doing, I grab a square of cheese and feed it to him.

His eyes flash as his lips part and my finger brushes against them. As soon as I realize what I’m doing I pull my arm back. Jesus, Olivia. But Gavin doesn’t let me. He grabs onto my wrist, holding it in place and takes the cheese out of my hand with his teeth.

My entire body freezes. Even my eyes refuse to look anywhere but straight into Gavin’s. He holds my gaze along with my wrist until he finishes chewing. I watch his Adam”s apple bob when he finally swallows and I reluctantly pull away.

“Sorry,” I murmur.

“Liv.”

“Sor—how do you like the cheese?”

“It’s as delicious as the wine. Thank you.”

I smile, grateful for how he just played that off. That’s twice tonight he’s turned me on more than I ever have been before. And he’s barely even touched me. I take a deep breath and try to slow my pounding heart.

“I’m glad you like it. This is my favorite combo, even if they don’t technically pair well together.”

He takes another sip, and I can tell he really enjoys it by the way his eyes squeeze shut, just for a moment. And then he takes another bite of cheese and chews thoughtfully.

“I guess sometimes opposites attract.”