Page 53 of One Bossy Date
Outside, Dax was already waiting on his bike. Without his leather jacket or helmet on yet, his tattooed arms were fully visible, and it surprised me every time just how much he’d had done. There were even tattoos visible at the neckline of his shirt. I’d called him yesterday and filled him in on everything that had gone down at the party, about our mom believing I’d knocked up my dog sitter and was now engaged to her.
“Hey, brother.”
“Hey, let’s get going, bro.” He revved his engine as I got my helmet on and kicked down.
We were ready to speed like motherfuckers, and it never got old. It was always exciting to feel the tempo under me and the wind whipping past me on our Ducatis.
During the ride, we met up with a few of the boys. Most of the guys were Dax’s friends, but some were from the company.
“Hey, Anders.” Jesse approached me once we’d pulled off the road for a rest stop. He was part of the financial department for Windham Construction, but we’d been friends for years. “Good to see you out here, man.” He slapped my back. “We missed you last weekend.”
“Ah, well. I was at the office working on the Humphries presentation.”
“Oh, yeah?” He frowned with his arms folded, standing with his legs wide apart. “I heard about that. Has it happened yet?”
“Nope, it will be soon, in a few weeks.” I nodded confidently. I was looking forward to it, to proving that things could change, and still work efficiently—more efficiently even. Before we could get into any details, though, Dax called us over.
“No more fucking business talk, assholes. We’re here to fucking relax.” The rest of the guys agreed, with shouts and more slaps to their peers’ backs. “And relaxing means riding. Let’s hit the road!”
“Dax has spoken,” his buddy Tyler called out with an excited chuckle.
We got back onto our bikes. The next hour was just that: relaxing. The road we chose was a popular one, especially on a Sunday, and we found ourselves among many other biker groups. I thought I recognized a few, but then again, we were out here most Sundays. A lot of Manhattan’s men chose this as their hobby, their escape, their freedom.
By the time we had circled back into the city, I felt satisfied that I’d blown all Zoe cobwebs from my mind—including her naked ass and those perfect tits. Maybe it was the time spent apart, but I started to think clearly again.
The decision was made.
I couldn’t just sleep with her as if it meant nothing. Even though it would be meaningless sex, and it would mean nothing to either of us, that was exactly why I couldn’t do it. She was tempting, that was for fuckin’ sure, but I had to control myself if I was going to keep my home drama free. While absolutely blindingly sexy, she was still the stress-ridden, frantic, and rash woman I knew her to be. I couldn’t risk getting on the wrong side of that—I didn’t doubt for a moment that she’d cause way more damage if she actually intended to do so. Above all, when it came to meaningless sex, the last person you wanted, apart from your nanny, was your roommate—which was exactly what she was right now.
The good thing here was, she’d even set those boundaries on the phone yesterday.
No sharing a bed, or sex, or kissing.
So, if this arrangement was going to work out, I had to maintain those boundaries. Not like this morning, where my dick had done all the thinking for me.
I’d be seeing her every morning and every evening.
There would be no physical contact.
The irony of the whole situation wasn’t lost on me. We’d made this arrangement based on the idea that we were together physically, yet, because of that same arrangement, we couldn’t be together physically. While everyone thought we were happily sleeping together and making babies, the truth was the exact opposite.
To be fair, the whole bathroom striptease incident had been a special unfortunate situation—nobody could’ve seen it coming—and we’d both lost control.
No problem.
From now on, I’d steer away from her.
We ended our ride at the usual spot: a bar around the corner from my place. The rest of the guys made their way inside, but I hung back.
“Yo. Anders, you comin’ along?”
“I think I’m gonna head back home, brother.”
While it was always fun to hang out with the guys, it usually grew a bit annoying when they got drunk and rowdy while I sat stone-cold sober. I didn’t judge them for it, but I had better things to get to. For example, a wet, naked woman with gorgeous tits that I wouldnotbe sleeping with.
Dax walked up to me where I stood next to my bike. “Why?”
Running a hand through my helmet hair, I exhaled. “I have something waiting for me there.”