“No, but thank you.” I opened the door before I could fuck up all over again. “Thank you for the sexual relief, Chelsea’s younger brother.”
“Thank you for an amazing blowjob, ‘woman I’ll be contacting for round two soon.’”
“I won’t answer if you call.”
“What if I text?”
I slammed the door shut and rushed up the steps. I looked over my shoulder, watching Tyler watch me.
He turned on the lights inside his car and winked at me before shutting them off again.
I returned to Chelsea’s place and let out a long breath.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” Chelsea was standing in the kitchen, spatula in hand. “Where the hell have you been?”
Shit.
“Your hair is all over the place and your cheeks are redder than a tomato.” She crossed her arms. “It looks like you’ve just had sex.”
“Because I did.” I cleared my throat, killing the “with Tyler” line before it could tumble out. “I didn’t mean for it to happen or for me to go out there. This guy who’s been pursuing me for a while showed up and called me when he was outside.”
“Random late-night car sex?” She gasped.
I nodded, and she squealed as if this was some type of life-altering event.
“Okay, wait. Who’s the guy again?”
“A guy from the resort. He just happened to be in town.”
“Well, was it good?” she asked.
“Best sex I’ve ever had in my life.”
“Fuck yes!” She opened a cabinet. “Sit on a stool while I make pancakes and prepare to tell me everything.”
I did tell her everything,
Well, almost everything…
Sex and the City
Harlow
Three days later
I refreshed my inbox for the umpteenth time, wondering why Tyler had yet to text me for another round of sex.
He felt too good inside of me to be a onetime thing, consequences be damned.
“Um, Miss?” A customer tapped me on the shoulder mid-check. “When are you starting the next showing?”
“In a minute.” My heart skipped a beat once a new message finally appeared.
555-987-2312: [voice message] We have been trying to reach you about your car’s extended warranty …
Ugh! I tossed it into the drawer and realized the customer who wanted my attention was long gone.
“Um…” Ashley cleared her throat. “I know that you’re the boss and not me, but I need you to go home for the rest of the day.”
“What?”
“All you’ve done today is stare at your phone and grunt.” She smiled. “I’m assuming you’re waiting for someone to get back to you, but I also want to assume that you’re constipated.”
“I’m fine, Ashley. I don’t need to go anywhere.”
“You’ve cost us fifteen customers and two private tours.”
“I’ll grab my things and get out of here.”
“Thank you.”
I walked past her and grabbed my purse from the office. I stepped outside into the alley, stopping when I saw Tyler walking toward me with an oversized brown bag.
“Leaving work early?” he asked.
“Yes. I’m on my way to a date with another guy I’m sleeping with, one who actually texts me when he says he will.”
“Oh?” His lips curved into a smile. “Would you like me to drive you to see him?”
“I can get there myself.”
“I insist.” He laughed, and butterflies fluttered in my stomach.
“I don’t live in Seattle,” he said. “Portland, remember?”
“You said that you would text.”
“You said that you wouldn’t answer.” He flashed me a boyish grin. “But you’re also a very bad liar, and I don’t think you can handle just sex with me.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
“This.” He kissed me until I lost all sense of space and time. When he was certain I was breathless, he whispered, “You should let me buy you lunch and take you out like I’ve always wanted to. Treat you to nice things and show how much I want you.”
I blushed and realized the bag he was holding came from my favorite catering company.
“If I promise to stay on top of that,” he said, looking into my eyes, “Will you answer my sext messages?”
“Depends on how many you plan to send a day.”
“Two to start,” he said. “It’s a yes or no question, Harlow.”
“Yes.”
He pulled his phone from his pocket and tapped the screen a few times.
My phone buzzed against my chest seconds later, and I checked the screen.
Tyler: Me. You. In your gallery’s office. Right now.
Tyler: And after, back at my place in Portland for the night.
Lost in Translation
Harlow
A few weeks later
Subject: Hey. Did You Forget?
I see in our bestie app that you’re in Portland right now. (What are you doing there?)
Today is my cake testing day.
Will you make it back to Seattle in time to help me?
Chelsea
Subject: Wedding Stuff. O_o
Harlow,
You’re LATE again.
You know I can’t finalize the flowers or the decor without you being by my side.
I also called your gallery, and you weren’t there.
Get it together.
Chelsea
Subject: Maybe Another Time?
I’m sorry Chad kept insisting that he and I join you on a double date with the resort guy at brunch yesterday. (The sex must be really good with him, huh? *wink wink*)
He doesn’t know that you like to date a guy to yourself for a while before bringing him around.
ANYWAY, I’m currently outside your new condo, and you’re not here. I just placed some tacky wedding favors that I WILL NOT be using in your mail slot. LOL
Call me when you’re free, so we can taste them together.
Chelsea
Subject: Maid of Honor sleepover.
I’ve decided that you can make up your recent M.I.A. & tardiness up to me by preparing your condo for a sleepover.
Just like old times.
Okay, but really: Want to help me put together the guest bags for the executives from Chad’s company and the gifts for the bridesmaids?
I know it’s a yes, so Friday?
P.S. I know it’s number four, but I truly think this marriage is the one. Do you? (Be honest.)
Secrets and Lies
Tyler
Knock! Knock! Knock!
I walked over to my condo’s door and opened it, expecting to see a half-naked Harlow for the third night in a row, but it was my sister.
Shit.
“I can’t believe that Harlow blew me off for Tequila Night, so she could go on another date with her mystery guy.” She walked inside without an invitation. “This guy better be a twenty out of ten whenever I meet him.”