“And another pack while we had dinner.”
We all grabbed some food at a Thai restaurant after the boxing match.
“I actually didn’t know someone could smoke while eating their food.”
Morgan snickers. “I’ll be about fifteen minutes.” She steps into her room.
“Take your time.”
I let myself in my room, strip off my smoky clothes, and climb in the shower.
I’m done in five minutes. I dress in gray pajama pants and grab two beers from the fridge. I open them up and head out onto the terrace.
I’m catching up on messages when Morgan appears.
“Hey.” She smiles.
Holy fuck.
She’s makeup free, not that she wears much anyway, and her hair is down and damp around her shoulders. But those aren’t the reasons that I’ve suddenly lost the ability to speak.
No, it’s the black silk cami pajama top and shorts that she’s wearing. And also the fact that I know she’s not wearing a bra beneath it because I can see her perky nipples poking at the fabric.
Is she trying to kill me?
If she is, what a fucking way to go though.
It takes me a full minute to find my voice. “Hi,” I croak as I hand her a beer.
She sits on the chair beside me and curls her legs up beneath her.
I want her so bad. I can feel myself starting to sweat, and my heart is thudding in my chest.
I take a long pull on my beer, trying to calm myself down.
Chill, Cross. For fuck’s sake, you’re acting like you’ve never seen a hot woman before.
But I haven’t seen her before. Not like this.
“That’s one of ours, right?” I point to her pajama set. Why the hell I’m reminding myself of what she’s wearing, I’ll never know.
“It is.” She smiles around the mouth of her beer bottle before taking a drink.
Those lips around that bottle…I bet she gives amazing head.
“I know my stuff,” I say.
“I know my stuff.”
Jesus H. Christ.
Next time I see Coop and Dom, I’m going to have them take turns in punching me in the face for all the stupid shit that I’ve said to her.
I take another drink of my beer and silently berate myself for being a moronic prick.
“So, tonight was fun,” she says.
“Yeah, it was.” I smile at her.
“And we didn’t get murdered at the arena, so that was a bonus.” A slow grin slides onto her face.
I chuckle and shake my head at her. “Did you not go to a Thai boxing match the last time you were here?” I ask her.
She shakes her head. “I didn’t get much time to do anything, except work, the last time I was here. I was only in San Kamphaeng for a day, as I had to visit a few more places.”
“So, you didn’t get to do much sightseeing?”
“Nope.”
“Do you wanna go sightseeing with me tomorrow after we finish up signing the contracts with Niran?”
“Sure.” She smiles. “That sounds nice.”
I take another sip of my beer, happy at the thought of spending the day with her tomorrow.
“I’m surprised you haven’t been out here before,” she says, her voice gentle in the night air. “I’d have thought traveling was your thing.”
I slide my eyes to her. “Because I’m rich?”
She shrugs but doesn’t elaborate.
“I’ve been abroad for work—China, India, places like that. Never here though. I did go to Cabo with the boys a few times for spring break.” I smile at the memories. “But, honestly, I haven’t taken a vacation since…God, two years ago when Coop booked us a spontaneous trip to Vegas. I’m kinda married to my job if you haven’t noticed.”
“I’ve noticed,” she says softly.
I like that she’s realized how hard I actually do work.
“So, how is Cooper?” she asks me.
“He’s good. Bumming around, living off his trust fund.” I chuckle, and she laughs.
“You were close with Dominic Anderson as well, right? I worked with him at Starbucks,” she explains.
For some reason, I don’t tell her that I already knew that. “Yeah, I see him all the time. Dom’s one of my best friends.”
“How’s he doing? I heard that he’d set up a dating app or something when he left college.”
“Yeah, he created Cas-U-Safe,” I tell her.
Basically, Cas-U-Safe is a dating app that people can join, so they can meet and hook up with people, and there’s no risk to their safety at all. The sign-up is rigorous, and it does all kinds of background checks on people. If you pass the checks, then you’re allowed a membership. Once in, you are able to browse photos of people but no details. If you see someone you want to hook up with, you send the person a message. If he or she wants to meet with you, then a date is arranged through Cas-U-Safe. The first date is held at the building they own, which has security. The first building was in Chicago. Now, they’re all over the fucking world.
The Cas-U-Safe buildings are a lot like hotels. They have a reception area, restaurant, café, cinema, bowling alley, and shit like that where the dates are held. The hotel is littered with security guards. CCTV is in all the dating areas. For an extra cost, there are hotel rooms upstairs for people to check in and fuck if they want. And a panic button is in each room. If they don’t want a room, then they go on their way after having a date that was safe for them, and they can go fuck at home if they want.
The joining fee is higher than the usual dating apps, but with all the creepers in the world right now, people want to know they’re meeting exactly whom they think they should be meeting and that they’ll be safe. And that’s what Dom’s company provides for them.
“Wow. I can’t believe he created Cas-U-Safe.”
“Yep. Dom’s one smart fucker.” I don’t tell her the reason he created the app though. Only Coop and I know that.
“Well, he must be doing really well for himself.”
“Yeah, he is.” I smile at my friend’s good fortune.
“It’s one of the biggest dating apps around,” she muses.
“Number two in the world. Have you ever used it?” I ask her.
“No! Of course not.” Her defensive words and tone tell me that she has.
I feel a flash of jealousy at the thought of Morgan going on a date and possibly fucking some dickhead at the building that my buddy owns.
I grit my teeth, my hand tightening around my beer bottle.
When I feel a little calmer, I say, “What about you? You still friends with those girls you hung out with at Northwestern…” I click my fingers, trying to remember their names.
“Joely. And Hannah,” she says.
“Yeah, right. Joely was the one with short, dark hair, right?”
“Yeah.”
“And Hannah…did she have blonde hair?”
“No. Red.”
“Close.” I chuckle.
But she doesn’t laugh back. So, I look at her, and it’s like a dark cloud has settled over her once-serene face.
Surely, she’s not pissed because I didn’t remember her friend Hannah properly.
“Do you still see them?” I ask.
“Joely. But not Hannah.” She stands abruptly, yanking my eyes up with her. “I’m gonna go to bed.”
“Oh. Right. Okay.” I get to my feet.
“Thanks for the beer.” She doesn’t look at me.
And the good feeling that I’ve had all night disintegrates.
“Anytime,” I say.
“Well”—she takes a step away from me, her voice sounding stiff—“good night, Wilder.”
“Sleep well,” I tell her.
I watch her walk back into her bungalow, the door closing behind her, shutting me out. And I stand here, confused as to how me not remembering the color of her friend’s hair could piss her off so much.
Morgan
Twelve Years Ago
I’m back for my second year at Northwestern.
I spent the summer at home, working for Starbucks there. I was lucky to get a transfer, and I took on a second job at the place where my mom worked, helping reception.