It takes my brain a second to process all that information. Since when do Roman and Simon hang out? Gathering my wit and stunning social capability I blurt, “Dinner?”
“Yes, Simon had dinner with us. They work together, remember? Roman invited him to dinner, and I thought since he was already taking the hot dog bus to your taco town, we’d invite him along this weekend. Henley and I got all the action last time.”
Laying my head on the back of the couch, I throw my arm over my eyes and groan, “Kasha.”
“What? I thought you said it was good. Does he have a bent pecker or something?”
“I can’t go away with him! This isn’t supposed to be anything serious. We’re supposed to be fuck buddies. Fuck buddies don’t go away together…” I move my arm and look at her. “Do they?”
Sighing, she shrugs. “You want my advice? Stop worrying so much about what you should or shouldn’t be doing. I know you don’t want to get attached, but after finding Roman, I’ve learned you don’t have much control over that. You can draw all the lines in the sand you want, but if you’re meant for one another, it’s going to happen. Stop letting your fear run you and do what feels good.”
My weeks of curbing my cursing goes right out the window. “Fuck fuckity fuck.”
“Does that mean you’re going with Simon?”
“Under protest,” I grumble.
“Good,” she chirps. “I’ll see you later.”
“I hate you!” I call as she heads for the door.
“Back at you!” She bounces out of the room after flipping me the robo bird.
I guess I’m going away for the weekend with Simon.
CHAPTER 9
SICILY
After days of nothing more than a few stolen glances, Anderson and I haven’t been able to speak about more than just work. Not even on the phone.
We’ve played phone tag, but no actual catching has been done. Either I’m busy or he’s busy.
Now he’s back, but we’re both swamped with trying to get everything ready before we leave, since Kasha is demanding our presence for the weekend. A whole weekend! And Monday too! Apparently they think Monday is a holiday—whatever the hell that is.
Do these people not understand deadlines?
A knock on the door sounds, prompting the nerves in my stomach to reignite. I quickly smooth my hair and try to look sexy. “Come in!”
A guy who is not Anderson walks in with my laptop under his arm, and I drop my pointless sexy posing.
“I’ve removed the viruses and cleaned the computer, Ms. Hunt,” he says, his cheeks flushing with a lot of color. No doubt he knows what caused those viruses I collected over the past week.
“Thanks,” I chirp as I stand and take my laptop, refusing to be embarrassed. Fortunately, he’s not allowed to discuss what he finds on anyone’s computers.
I hear parents gripe all the time about dirty shit on the internet, yet I’ve found no actual “normal” sex videos. I don’t even know what normal is, but I know I haven’t found it. Where are all these elusive sex videos hiding? All I can find is porn, and after being ruined by it before, I can’t trust anything I find there will be normal.
Oh, but I can get a virus from porn sites that are not normal sex sites; that’s for damn sure.
“Teacher Wants it in the Apple Bottom is one of my favorites, and Pornhub cuts out the viruses if you want to go that route,” he offers, clearing his throat as his face turns even redder. “Downloadable free porn is usually just a setup for viruses or pirates who want to steal your identity and such. Same with free music or e-books; they creep into your computer, steal your information and whatnot. Everyone wants in the back door.” He coughs. “No pun intended.”
Okay, so now I’m a little embarrassed.
“Thanks,” I tell him with a forced smile, while secretly hoping he’s a shitty person who gets fired for something so that I never have to see him again.
It’s only not a terrible thought if he’s horrible. Like drowns kittens in the bathtub as a hobby kind of horrible.
He acts like he’s going to say more, when my door suddenly swings open, and in walks the very bane of my existence. I stare helplessly as Anderson eyes the IT guy, frowning.
“Mark,” Anderson says in greeting.
“Mr. Harper,” the blushing IT guy says in return.
“Are you feverish?” Anderson asks, glancing between us, probably noticing I’m a little red as well.
“N-no, sir,” Mark murmurs nervously.
My life is a paradox of untimely and mortifying events these days. Where did I go wrong?
Well, obviously I went wrong when I unknowingly watched porn with my father.
I’m going to be sick again.
I glance in the mirror, noting a lump of my hair is sticking up, letting me know I didn’t smooth it down as well as I intended earlier. Internally cursing, I fix it quickly, ignoring Anderson’s burning gaze on me.