Chapter 6 #2
The dim blush of dusk faded to twilight through my curtainless windows, and I found I almost missed the floor lamps as I debated standing up to turn on the overhead light.
Otis didn’t seem to mind, despite the fact he was surely feeling the ache in his muscles just as much as I was from having hunched over my laptop on the floor for the last…
I checked the time at the bottom corner of the screen.
Four hours. The time had flown in Otis’s easy company as he talked me through schedules and venue bookings, helping me make order of the mess my predecessor had left.
I loved spreadsheets. Considered myself the queen of Excel, but Marisa’s notes had been more akin to a resentful stream of consciousness than any plans.
We’d had to call several hotels and venues to confirm dates and times when the information was disjointed or, in some cases, completely missing.
Through it all, he hadn’t lost patience or spoken poorly of his ex-manager; he’d simply picked up his cell and placed a quick yet polite phone call, then continued with the schedule.
As he clicked the save icon and exited the spreadsheet, we both stretched our backs with a simultaneous groan.
“Nothing makes you feel old in your twenties like sitting on a hard floor for extended periods of time,” I groaned with a mock scowl.
His lips quirked in an amused smirk at my complaint.
“Wait until we’re on the road and sleep deprived. Your bones will creak, but you’ll be too tired to care.”
I chuckled, wincing as pain shot through my spine. “You guys can sleep anywhere. I’m going to use manager privileges and make sure I always have a bed.”
“Sure you will.”
We both knew I was joking.
Lying back on the floor, Otis hooked an arm behind his head, his eyes shining in the low light.
“So. Tell me more about Tatum King.”
I flopped down beside him with a groan as my back screamed in relief.
What could I offer him? The concept of the getting-to-know-you discussion was always a benefit when you were finding out about a new acquaintance. Putting the shoe on the other foot? I couldn’t think of a single interesting thing about myself.
I didn’t really have hobbies or friends, other than Ruby.
Until I was fired, I spent most of my time working as an accountant—not an “accountant”, although being an OF creator would definitely have made me more interesting—and drinking wine while I followed Ruby on her adventures.
I wasn’t ready to go into the whole Danny thing, and I’d already told him about Adam.
Staring up at the eggshell-white ceiling, it occurred to me that I’d stalled out in life a long time before Adam fucked me over. I was as bland as the paint choice above my head.
Before my existential crisis could really get the Tatum’s-a-fucking-bore train running, I blurted the first answer that came to mind.
“I’m a goal-oriented bitch who doesn’t know when to back down or give up, and I really, fucking really, need this job.”
Christ. Take out the swearing, and I sounded like I was back in the interview room. Which only made me feel more awkward as the seconds ticked by in silence.
Why was I like this? I couldn’t just be a normal “I like long walks on the beach and longer trips to the mall” type of girl, could I?
Definitely not. I hated shopping with a passion.
When that tangent threatened to send me down a mental rabbit hole of all my feminine failures, I dropped my head to the side to find Otis had rolled toward me.
In the dim light, his golden eyes glinted, moving over my body in a way that made me feel like maybe I wasn’t so bad in the female department after all.
“I have a feeling you’ll do just fine.”
Was it hot in here? Or maybe it was just my face. His suggestive tone left me acutely aware of how close we lay together. How easily I could maneuver close enough to touch him.
As the thought entered my mind, I cast around for a distraction that would lead me back from the edge of my next terrible idea.
“Why? Because I’m as fucked up as the rest of you?” The words spilled unbidden from my mouth
That…was not it.
I slapped both hands over my eyes just in case I could either catch the words and drag them back…or sink through the floor and avoid further embarrassment.
Otis’s bark of laughter was unexpected, and I couldn’t resist watching his head tilt back. The apple of his throat bounced as the warm sound echoed through the empty apartment. His grin was brilliant as he caught my eye, raking a hand through his curls with a final small chuckle.
“That could be it, actually. But honestly, you’re kinda perfect. Smart. Witty.” His face grew serious.
A new tension filled the air, and I wanted him to continue, while also recognizing I was back on the ledge.
“I’d really like to kiss you.” He murmured the words, bridging the short distance between us with his hand.
Warm fingers cradled my jaw as if it were made of glass, while his thumb brushed gently across my lower lip. Breathing suddenly felt difficult, and I opened my mouth to find air. He slipped the tip inside to rest against my teeth.
Yes, my body screamed, warming at the small contact like sex was a foregone conclusion and the delay was unacceptable. Otis was smoking hot and one of the nicest men I’d ever met. The greenest of green flags. Except for one glaring problem.
His head dipped down, his breath ghosting across my lips with the promise of a great distraction.
My fucking work ethic decided to clam jam me.
“Wait.”
He froze. And how sweet was that? Any other guy would have continued, to hell with my comfort.
Shut. Up.
“Sorry. I just… Look. You are super out of my league. You’re gorgeous and so nice, but the timing couldn’t be worse. With the tour coming up, I have my hands full with your bandmates… I…” The words weren’t wording, but the flash of disappointment in his eyes said he’d got the gist of the letdown.
“No. You’re right. I shouldn’t have… Yeah. I’m sorry.”
Oh, look. I’d passed on my inability to talk my way out of the awkward.
We sat staring at each other for another couple of moments, then he stood and stretched his back.
“It’s getting pretty late. I might get going…” He paused, his eyes flicking around the empty apartment like he’d just realized I didn’t have anywhere to sleep.
Nope, no. He didn’t need to rescue me. With a groan that rivaled a wildebeest, I pushed to my feet and moved toward the door in hopes he would follow without commentary.
“Thank you for your help tonight. Seriously, you saved my ass. And your tour. So yeah. Thanks.”
I pulled the door open, leaning against the wood with the best smile I could muster pasted across my face. Brows furrowed, Otis opened his mouth, then shut it again, clearly deciding to take the path of least resistance.
“I’ll pick you up in the morning.”
I nodded, unsure whether he was making a genuine offer or saying something to assuage his guilt over leaving me to sleep rough.
He stepped out into the hall, and I wasted no time locking things up, all but slamming the door in his face in my rush to end the discomfort.
Like a coward, I watched him through the peephole as his shoulders lifted and fell.
He planted his hands on his hips, head dropping back on his shoulders in a way that made his fine features catch the light.
My libido screamed at me that it was worth the risk to my job for a night that would no doubt be amazing.
Someone like Otis would be a generous lover, and I fucking deserved a few good orgasms after the shit Adam had put me through.
If I’d only had myself to worry about, I would have let my pussy do the talking.
But it wasn’t just me. Ma needed my help, and I couldn’t lose sight of that.
It didn’t mean Otis couldn’t be the star of my fantasies for the foreseeable future, though.