Page 86 of Call Me Sir

Shit.

“Um. Yeah don’t tell the boss I was on tinder at work…”

The way Tony’s jaw drops I know I’ve got him believing me.

“Anyone hot?”

I shake my head. “I’d be hitting them up instead of chatting with you if they were.”

He punches my arm then swivels back to his desk.

Relief lets me breathe a little better, however there’s an ache in my chest. Tony has been my closest friend in a long time. He’s been open to me about everything. So many things I didn’t want to know. And while I don’t overshare as he does, guilt pricks my chest for not telling him that there’s something between me and Sal.

Hopefully we can keep it on the DL before I have to tell him we’ve been a thing.

Looking down at my phone, I pick it up and save one of the most popular guys in the Bayfront area.

This is very different than finding the best hotel to stay in before a cruise to Alaska. Or the best route from here up to Oregon and Washington for who knows what.

Okay, enough stalling. Clicking on the number, I open messages.

Thumbs helicopter over the keyboard, unable to decide where to begin. This is Oliver Davis I’m trying to reach out to.

Deciding texting isn’t the best method, and I should call him.

Dialing the number, I try to tune out the chattering of my colleagues and the clicking of their keyboards.

After three rings, an extremely friendly voice answers on the other end.

“Hello?”

Oh god.

Keeping my cool, I slide from my chair and speed walk to the conference room.

“Hi, is this Oliver Davis?”

“…it is…”

He sounds petrified. It boulsters something within me and the confidence in my voice catches me by surprise but I run with it.

“Hi, this is Cole Matthews. Long explanation short, I’m helping plan the gala for the LGBTQ+ event.”

“Oh!” He sounds completely relieved now.

“Would you be interested in speaking at the event? While I’m sure you’re busy, it’d be an honor to have you speak about your experiences.”

“That would be really cool. You know, I do start school this fall so my appearances will be more sporadic.”

Heat whips my cheeks when I picture how he looked last year on the covers of gossip magazines. Dazzling. Adorably new, but breathtaking none the least.

“So this would actually be perfect.”

Yes! I actually leap.

“If you’d like to come over to my place for dinner, I can chat with you on what our plans are.”

What. What did I just ask?

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