IRL: In Real Life (After Oscar, #1)(24)

For some reason, every time I glanced at him, he seemed to be studying me. A memory of watching an old period drama about King Henry VIII with my grandmother flashed through my mind. The actor who’d played the young, virile king had an intense stare that made everyone around him do his bidding like a stage of intricately controlled puppets.

Wells Grange had that same intensity to his gaze. And whenever he turned it on me there was something about it that made me want to do whatever he said.

He excused himself from the table with a polite nod, allowing me to finally let out a breath and relax.

“That guy is scary,” I murmured to James.

“Stay away from him, Conor,” he whispered back. “He’s nothing but trouble.”

I turned to look at him. “How so?”

“Broke Oscar’s heart. Apparently the man doesn’t have an emotional bone in his body.”

The familiar vibration in my pocket bumped my heart rate up. I slid the phone out and glanced at it under the table.

Sexy Stranger: I can’t stop thinking about you naked and begging. You have twenty minutes to text me a full nude from your hotel bed.





My heart launched into the stratosphere.

Conor: Leaving restaurant now.





I noted the time on my phone before shoving it back in my pocket. “I have to go,” I blurted, trying to mentally calculate how far it was to my hotel and how long it would take to get back. Should I call a cab? Try to walk it?

It wasn’t like I needed to wait around for the check or anything, and dinner had long since been cleared from the table. What were we all still doing there?

I stood just as Wells slid back into his seat. My knee hit the edge of the table, causing a clatter of half-empty wineglasses. He lifted a brow at me.

“Sorry,” I said. I noticed my hands were shaking slightly as I tried to fold my napkin. “I, ah…”

“Is it your mom?” James asked under his breath, reaching out to squeeze my arm.

“No, no, nothing like that.”

He looked at me expectantly, as if waiting for me to explain. He wasn’t the only one; the entire table was staring at me.

“I have a… thing. To do. A person.” James’s eyebrows shot up and I realized what I’d said. “Not like that,” I scrambled to correct myself. “Not a person to do. I mean at least not the way you’re thinking.” My cheeks were blazing. “It’s more of a—”

James squeezed my arm again, laughter twitching the corners of his lips, and I stopped rambling. I cleared my throat. “I just… have to go. I’ll see everyone in the morning.”

I turned to Wells and tried to act like a calm adult. As if. I couldn’t even meet his eyes. “Thank you for dinner,” I mumbled in the direction of his tie.

He said nothing immediately, which forced me to look up at him.

The moment my gaze landed on his, he nodded. Was that a smirk at the edges of his mouth? “Enjoy your evening, Conor.”

As I bolted away from the table, I couldn’t help but shiver at the way he’d said my name. It echoed in my head as I burst out onto the streets of Manhattan and started speed walking to my hotel. For several blocks I replayed that moment: his silence, the way it forced me to look up at him. To meet his eyes. The way it had felt like, for the briefest moment, I was the only other person at that table who mattered to him.

The thought made my lungs squeeze. I was so lost in the moment that I wasn’t watching where I was going. My toe caught a crack in the sidewalk and I tripped, stumbling several steps before regaining my balance. It was enough of a jolt to startle me out of the fantasy I’d been conjuring and back into reality.

Of course I mattered to him, I thought with a shake of my head. I was the one who could decide to turn over the rights to my mother’s patents. That’s what he cared about. Not me.

I needed to forget about Wells Grange.

I glanced at my phone. Twelve minutes to make it back to my hotel. I started jogging.

Eight minutes later, I was on my knees, naked, holding my cell phone in front of my crotch and trying to figure out the best angle to photograph myself when my mom’s face suddenly appeared on the screen. I let out a squeal and practically threw my phone across the room in horror.

It took me a second to realize that phone had flashed her picture because she’d been calling. Thank god, I thought, blowing out a breath. I pressed a fist to my racing heart and scrambled from the bed to retrieve my phone.

Great, she wanted to FaceTime. I looked down at my deflating cock and quickly grabbed a shirt from the back of a chair. I tugged it on over my head and swiped to accept the call.

“Hey, Mom, what’s up?” I asked, being very, very careful to keep the screen pointed up and not letting it dip anywhere near my exposed nethers.

“Hi, honey. Just calling to check in on how the meeting today went.” She turned her head, coughing into her elbow. I narrowed my eyes, studying her. It was difficult to tell on the small screen, but she looked paler than usual, the skin around her eyes bruised. And her voice sounded raspier.

“It went fine. How are you feeling?” I asked her.

She waved a hand, brushing me off. “Fine. Tell me more about the meeting. Have y’all come to any terms yet?”

“Wells—” I began. She lifted her eyebrow at my use of his name, and I cleared my throat. “I mean, That Asshole wants to go over a few more logistical details before making the official offer. Should come in the morning.”