Chapter 15
FIFTEEN
Mona
My hands are sweaty, and I feel lightheaded, like I am about to pass out. I stare at the computer screen in front of me, but my vision is blurry, and I can’t see anything. I just have this film playing over and over in my head, on a never-ending repeat.
I am lying naked on a bed, with my breasts painted with chocolate frosting while my most intimate part in between my legs is dripping with my own juices mixed with the sugary concoction.
Alex is hovering above my body, sweat running down the sides of his head, and his hair a mess.
He looks up at me as the tip of his tongue comes out and makes contact with my right nipple.
He starts licking, and he doesn’t stop until it’s all clean and no traces of the frosting left.
Then, he moves to my other one where he repeats the process just as I arch my back off the bed, willing him to move a little faster, a little rougher.
“Are you ready?” he murmurs against my skin just as he slides down my body until his mouth hovers above my mound. I tremble as the heat of his breath softly lingers over my bare skin.
He winks at me as his tongue comes out and takes a long lick, groaning as he goes. His efforts are rewarded when my skin breaks into pebbles all over my body, and I shiver in anticipation for more. I…
“Mona, everything alright over there?”
I jump as if I’ve been burned when I hear my boss’ voice coming from right next to me. Without thinking, my hands come up and rip the headset I have on. It falls to the flat surface of the desk before sliding to the floor.
That’s when I realize that the phone is ringing, the one I am supposed to answer as part of my job.
“Oh God!” I fan myself with rapid moves.
My boss, Laura, takes a step back. “Are you sick? Because you don’t look so good. You’re sweating. Why are you sweating?”
I bring both hands to my cheeks, feeling how hot they are, then my hands slide up to my hair that does feel slightly damp around my temples.
“I don’t know.” My mouth is so dry when I speak, that I almost choke. I grab the bottle of water I have sitting next to my keyboard. In my effort to undo the cap, I almost drop it a couple of times.
“Oh, my freakin’ God, you have the flu!” I jump again when Laura shrieks at me. “Why the hell did you come in if you knew you were sick?”
She takes a couple more steps back, and I have to stop myself from bursting into laughter.
I’m pretty sure it’s not the flu but me being turned on by the daytime dream she interrupted.
I mean, I was seconds away from an orgasm that promised to shatter my world.
Much like the real one Alex gave me when he came to my apartment two days ago.
“Pack your stuff and go home! Now!” Laura snaps at me when I don’t follow her orders right away.
She turns around and marches back to her office. The walls of my small cubicle close in on me as I press a hand to my chest in an effort to calm down.
I’ve never fantasized about Alex while at work, not even when we first started dating. I have no idea what the hell is happening to me.
“Why are you still here?” Laura is back, and she brought a can of Lysol with her. She starts spraying it around until we’re both coughing from the fumes it puts out.
“You need to stop that,” I tell her. “I’m not leaving. I can’t afford to leave. I need the hours, and you know it.”
She continues spraying around, focusing on my keyboard now while she tries to keep her face covered with the top part of the shirt she’s wearing.
“If I get sick because of you, I will kill ya,” she promises.
I snort in amusement at hearing that. “If you get what I’m having, then I congratulate you.”
Unwarranted jealousy floods my system at the same time that I say the words.
I wouldn’t like it at all if Alex and her became an item of some sorts.
While I don’t have to worry about Alex marrying someone else, and I also don’t want him back, I can’t deal with the idea of him being with someone I know.
The air around me feels suffocating, and I am pretty sure I am about to have a panic attack. It would be my first one ever, at least in a public setting. It’s different when you freak out away from everybody and in the privacy of your own home.
I push my chair back and stand up from the desk in a desperate need of some space.
”I’ll be right back,” I tell Laura but don’t wait for her to respond. She’s still busy with the Lysol can.
”If you pass out in the bathroom, I am quarantining the area,” she warns behind me. “Nobody will be allowed in or out of there!” She raises her voice more as I walk away.
I throw a weak wave over my shoulder without looking back. I am on a mission to get away from everyone. As soon as I am out in the hallway, I already feel a bit better. I continue walking toward where the restrooms are located even though I don’t need to use the facilities.
”Shit,” I murmur to myself when the bottom of my shoe gets caught in the carpet and I about go headfirst into the wall.
As I walk by a small sitting area, I decide that it’s a good enough spot for me to regroup.
I wipe my sweaty hands on the dark dress pants I have on, too late realizing that it might leave marks on the material.
I pace the floor a couple of times before finally dropping into one of the chairs.
It’s way more comfortable than the one at my desk, and I drop my head back with a sigh.
I’ve never lost focus like while at work.
Sleeping with Alex when he showed up at my door was a huge mistake.
I knew it from the second I pulled him into the apartment, but I just couldn’t help myself.
And that’s the problem when it comes to him.
I always tell myself that I am done, and that I’ll never let him into my heart again.
Th issue arises when he never truly leaves, so then how can I turn him away?
”You’re so pitiful,” I tell myself since I don’t have anyone else to discuss the situation with.
I guess I could call Elizabeth. She would listen and give me some advice.
But she is so in love with her boyfriend, especially now that things are going well for the two of them, that she looks at everything through rose-colored lenses.
She would think it’s very romantic that Alex showed up with the chocolate cake I didn’t get to eat when at the restaurant.
And, damn it, it didn’t taste like it’d been sitting for a couple of days, which can only mean that he went back to the restaurant to buy a fresh piece.
If that’s not romantic, what is?
“Ahhhh!” I drop my head down and dig my hands into my hair.
I never had some grand plan for where I wanted my life to go once I reached adulthood, but I never imagined that it would be this complicated when it came to having a decent relationship.
Everyone I know is committed to a partner who cherishes the ground they walk on. It’s just me who had to fall in love with the one guy who won’t commit to me, but who also won’t let me go. He plays these games with my head, and I let him.
”God, I’m so stupid!” It’s the only viable conclusion.
Blindly patting for my phone, I pull it out of the pocket of the blazer I am wearing.
I unlock it and open the Holidates app, my need to have a date for this party even stronger now.
I absolutely have to prove to Alex that he means to me as much as I mean to him, which is nothing.
I can play his games, too, I tell myself as I type on the phone with shaky hands.
The frustration I feel when I see that I don’t have any new messages in the app is off the charts. I don’t understand this. The one guy I thought would be a good fit is completely ghosting me now, and the ones I blew off before never came back.
I guess this means I have to take matters into my own hands and be the one reaching out first to others. My shoulders feel stiff and ache when I push them back, hoping that it would give my back some relief.
I frantically scroll through pages full of possible dates, and it’s a bit overwhelming.
I go back to the filters to narrow it down some.
When it asks for how far I am willing to travel, I have to remind myself that I can barely afford to travel across town, let alone across the state, or, God forbid, go to another state.
Nerves get to me, and my thumb taps unwillingly on the first profile on the page I am currently on before my brain catches on that I need to save the filters.
The picture that pops up gives me pause. The man in it stares back at me with such intensity, it’s like he can see straight into my soul. He doesn’t smile, and he reminds me of Alex in that way, especially as of late.
I am just about to back out and resume my search, when my eyes skim over his profile. Two things catch my attention. He mentions New York, and he states that he will pay for the other person’s travel expenses to Boston. A quick scroll up confirms that’s where he’s located.
”This is too good to be true,” I mutter under my breath as I continue reading. The best part is that he doesn’t even need someone as a fake date until after the winter holidays.
I hurry up and tap on the button that opens a message to him. With short and rushed sentences, I explain what I need a date for.
”I cannot afford to travel.” I mutter the words as I type. “Please confirm that you will cover any travel related expenses from New York City to Boston.”
My chest hurts a little when I tap Send.
Just like when I initially set up the Holidates account, guilt threatens to trap my airways.
It feels like cheating, which is absolutely ridiculous.
I can’t be cheating on Alex when we’re not together.
In hindsight, I realize that we were never together like that anyway.
I put the phone away and shake my hands a little to relax them. When I stand up from the chair, I lose my balance but catch myself.
”Oh my God, you are sick!”
A puff of sanitizing spray hits me right in the face, and I start coughing.
”Stop it,” I yell at Laura. She seems to be on a mission to not only kill whatever germs and diseases she thinks I carry, but also me.
“Go home,” she yells back. “I’ll give you hours for this weekend to make up for this, just go away!”
I hold my hands over my mouth and eyes so that I don’t inhale the fumes from the spray. We both end up having to take a couple of steps back to get away from the cloud of chemically charged lavender smell surrounding us.
”Eww, this is terrible,” Laura complains. “It’s on my taste buds now.” She sticks her tongue out like she wants to show me.
Rolling my eyes, I point to the can in her hands. “Put that damn thing away before we both end up in the emergency room. I swear I’m not sick. I’m just… distracted,” I admit but refuse to say by what.
”Oh…” Laura still eyes me suspiciously.
”I’m not going home.” My tone is firm and to the point. “And I will also take the hours you offered me for this weekend. Very kind of you, thank you.”
”Uh, I only said that because…”
Emotion crashes into me like never before. I hate to beg, but I can’t afford life anymore, and this is my only option.
”Please,” I say. “I need it.”
Laura stares at me for a few moments, the can of Lysol still at the ready even though she now knows that it’s not needed. She opens her mouth a couple of times, like she’s preparing to let me down, but then something happens, and she changes her mind.
”I will add you to the schedule.” She puts the can away and turns on her heels. “I can’t have people thinking they can just ask for hours and they’ll get them. If anyone comments about it, I asked you to come in, not the other way around. Got it?”
”Yes, ma’am,” I call after her, a smile lacing my tone.
”Don’t freakin’ call me ma’am,” she yells back with an attitude, and now I’m laughing. “Get back to work!”
I follow her back to where all cubicles are located. A few people eye me funny, so I raise my hands in apology. “I’m not sick,” I assure them. “Get back to work!”
Since I am their lead on the floor, they listen and go back to whatever they were doing. Feeling more confident, I march to my cubicle and sit down. I grab the headset with abrupt moves and stick it over my hair, almost stabbing myself with the sharp end.
I bring my computer back to life, ready to get back to answering the phone on an endless loop. I am just about to take my desk phone off the do-not-disturb button, when my cell buzzes in my pocket.
We are not typically allowed to be on our personal phones while working, so I carefully slide the cell out and check the screen. It says that I have a new message from the Holidates app. I hold my breath as I log in to read it.
A big smile spreads over my face when I see that it is a reply from the Boston guy.
Mona,
Confirming that all expenses related to your potential trip to Boston would be paid by me. There wouldn’t be anything out of pocket for you. In addition, I am available for the Christmas charity event you need a date for.
Reply with confirmation that this is a go, then we can hammer down the details.
Jonathan
The message is straight and to the point, very business-like. It is exactly what I need, so I hurry up and respond to him before I can change my mind, or, worse yet, he changes his mind.
I am just about to log off when I notice that I have another new message in my Holidates inbox. The name I see there makes me roll my eyes. Julian Lewis.
Mona,
My apologies for the late reply. I’ve had a lot going on lately. I would love it if you still wanted to meet. You are exactly who I’ve been searching for, and I would be so disappointed if things between us didn’t work out.
Sincerely,
Julian
This message strikes me as odd. It’s worded like we are in a relationship of sorts, and he wants to take it to the next level. What is the next level in fake dating?
Not to mention, we haven’t even gotten to the fake dating part since he ditched me on the one time we were supposed to meet.
That led to Alex basically sliding into his spot, buying me dinner and acting like I was on a date with him.
The follow-up to that was him showing up at my door two days later, with the most delicious chocolate cake in existence, and also his delicious body.
Nothing good came out of that other than the mind-blowing orgasms we gave to each other.
Julian Lewis is bad news, and I’m glad I have a backup.