My Last Resolution(13)

“Have I ever told you that you have the worst timing in the world?” He answers with a sigh.

“Have I ever told you that best friends can call each other whenever they want?”

“I was about to have sex.”

“Well, you must not have been too excited about it because you picked up the phone.”

“True.” He laughs. “Did you make it to Boston yet? I emailed you a list of things I’ve scheduled for you to do.”

“No. I’m stuck in Washington because the flight was canceled. I just wanted to tell you in case you had someone waiting for me at the airport.”

“Thanks. Is that all?”

“That, and I’m going to bash your f**king head in whenever I see you again.”

“I take it your mom told you I cried at the party?” He chuckles. “My tears were Oscar-worthy.”

“I’m sure they were. I’ll call you tomorrow.”

“Wait. What aren’t you telling me, Paris?”

“What?”

“There’s something you’re not telling me. I can sense it.”

“It’s nothing.”

“Please don’t make me guess.”

I contemplate hanging up right then and there because if there’s anyone who can sense when something is up, it’s David. “Okay, okay...I’m spending the night with this guy I met on the plane.”

“This guy you met on a plane?”

“Are you having problems hearing?”

“What’s his name?”

“Blake.”

“And?” He laughs. “Is that all you know about him?”

“No! I know that he’s a lawyer, and he um...Trust me, I asked all the right questions.”

“You’re attracted to him, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Yes you are.” He’s smiling, I know it. “If he was able to talk your suspicious ass into going home with him, you have to be more than attracted to him. Don’t worry, I’m not judging you. As a matter of fact, I think you should f**k him while you’re there.”

“What?”

“I didn’t stutter. You need to be f**ked, Paris. Badly.”

“David...”

“I’m looking out for the both of us. I’d do it, but I don’t want you to become addicted to me. Besides, it’d be really nice not to hear you complain about another man’s dick anymore, or be forced to listen to you whine about how you only cum three times a year.”

“Seriously?” I’m going to break his neck and bash his skull when I get home.

“If you don’t sleep with him, you could at least show him some oral appreciation, don’t you think? If I let some stranger chick stay in my house for her benefit, I would at least expect a blow job.”

I hang up.

My phone immediately rings and I put it on speaker. “I am not f**king him, David! This is a one night thing and I’m just spending the night. That’s it. I might be attracted to him, but that doesn’t mean that we’re going to have random stranger sex.”

“Um...” It’s a woman. “Is this Paris Weston?”

I gasp. “No... I mean, yes. May I ask who’s calling?”

“This is Missy Turner with US Airways Customer Care. Did I catch you at a bad time?”

“Nope.” I change my tone. “Not at all.”

“Okay. Well, I’m calling to let you know that your flight from Reagan International Airport to Boston Logan International Airport has been rescheduled for tomorrow morning at ten forty five. We’re offering complimentary transportation if you’re within ten miles of the airport. Will you need any assistance?”

Yes! Yes! Yes! “No, I’ll be alright. Thanks for the call.”

“My pleasure, Miss Weston. Have a nice night.”

I scroll through the emails on my phone and hit confirm on all the sight-seeing events that David just sent to me: Spa day, tour of historic downtown, shopping gala, another spa day, and a day at The World of Porn.

Ugh, David...

Picking up my bag, I dump everything I packed onto the bed and quickly realize that I didn’t pack shit. No toothbrush, body wash, brush, comb, nothing.

All I have are T-shirts, jeans, an array of mismatching bras and panties, and cotton shorts.

“Paris?” Blake knocks at my door.

“It’s open.”

He steps inside wearing nothing but a pair of white drawstring pajama pants. “Here you are.” He holds out a plate of pizza, but I don’t take it.

His body is f**king amazing. On the right side of his perfectly chiseled chest is a black tattoo that swirls and dips down to his six pack abs. At the base of it, right where the ink ends, is a deep V with a small trail of hair that leads to what I’m sure is just as impressive.

“Paris?” He’s suddenly cupping my chin in his hands. “Are you okay?”

I nod.

He raises his eyebrow, but he doesn’t say anything further. He places my plate on the nightstand and sighs. “I’m not sure how you feel about eating dinner together, but if you want more it’s in the kitchen.”

“You’re not going to force me to eat with you?”