That Wheels was currently licking.
“Wheels, no,” I shrieked as I jerked my foot back. “That’s disgusting! Oh my god, do you know what that is?”
Everyone craned their necks over to see exactly what it was.
“It’s nothing!” I said quickly. “Ha, ha. Just some dressing I spilled. Probably not good for a dog!”
“Is that why your shirt is wet?” Vince asked. “Get it on you?”
I nodded furiously. “Just, like, all over. It was so embarrassing. I need to take the suit to a dry cleaner before I give it back to Flavius. I should probably go look one up right this very second.”
I turned toward the hallway and was going to walk calmly to my room when my name was said again. What the fuck was wrong with these people?
I looked toward the living room again.
Sandy smiled sweetly at me. “Congratulations. I’m so proud of you. Good night.”
And then he winked.
Sanford Stewart was a he-witch.
“Good night,” I managed to say before fleeing.
I SHUT my door just as my phone chimed in my pocket. I pulled it out, figuring it was Marina texting again.
It wasn’t Marina.
Good luck. You’ll need it.
“Fucking Jeremy,” I muttered, but I was smiling so widely my cheeks hurt.
Chapter 14: Wicked Games
THE PROBLEM with having a secret… person was that it was a secret.
Obviously.
But my problem with having a secret person was that I had to see my secret person almost every single day.
Oh, we kept our distance over the weekend that followed the annihilation of the Super Gays, only texting back and forth a couple of times. And the texts w
ere innocent, mostly about how Stephen had gone over the proposal and said that everything looked good. I’d even managed to stay mostly out of sight from Sandy and the others, begging off from going to Jack It on Saturday by saying that I wasn’t up for going out. Sandy didn’t argue, and he was distracted getting ready for his show. And then on Sunday, he and Darren were out for most of the day, which left me alone at the house.
Which was awesome, because I couldn’t seem to keep my hand off my dick for any extended period of time, remembering the sounds Jeremy had made on the other side of the door.
Monday morning came quicker than I expected, and I was both excited and dreading what was about to happen.
It was at half past six that I learned just how fucked-up Jeremy Olsen was, and how much I had to up my game.
Did I plan on watching him jog by the house that morning?
No. Of course not. I was disinterested. I’d said as much.
If I just so happened to be in the kitchen around the time I knew he’d be there, it was merely coincidental.
And I liked standing at the window because I could see the pretty colors in the sky. Arizona sunrises were world renowned, and I thought I could take in the natural beauty of the desert around me.
“What a lovely morning,” I whispered to myself as I took a sip of coffee. “Ooh, that’s good. That’s—”