Page 40 of Clueless Romeo

The more I tried to convince myself CJ meant nothing to me, the more I failed. I didn't really want things to work out between him and Nate. Fucking inconvenient and frustrating straight-up fact.

Forcing myself to sit on my couch, my leg bounced as I racked my brain for a good excuse to text him. Something that would make sense and not give away how badly I wanted CJ to tell me it wasn't working. That he wasn't feeling the vibe with Nate. At all.

I never would have done that before. But this thing with CJ had been different from the beginning, so why would my routine stay by the book? It wouldn't, I told myself and unlocked my phone. It was my duty to check in on my first-time client.

My thumb hovered over CJ's name. Anxiety washed through me. What if he said everything was great, and maybe he even wanted to see Nate again?

With a curse, I relocked my phone. I needed a distraction before I did something stupid. But nothing would override my damn near desperation to know if things were going as well between them as I'd anticipated when I'd paired them in the first place.

I rarely failed. It wasn't in my nature to self-sabotage, but here I was losing my shit.

My leg bounced harder. Faster. I caved. Swiping the screen again, I entered my passcode. This time, I didn't even hesitate when I pulled up CJ's contact info and started typing out a message.

Me:How's the date going?

The tiny blue dots started bouncing within seconds, and I held my breath. If he was having a good time, he would have ignored the message. Right? I questioned myself repeatedly as I waited for the response to come through. The bubbles stopped, and my back stiffened.

What were they doing? Had they kissed? Done more? I needed to know, or the thoughts would drag me into complete madness.

My nostrils flared as I tapped the screen again.

Me:Has he kissed you?

The dots returned, and I once again found the air trapped in my lungs as I waited.

CJ:Do you normally request a play-by-play from a date?

Me:Yes.

Lie. But what was I supposed to say? And he hadn't answered the question, so maybe Nate had put his lips on what belonged to me. My jaw clenched, and I ground my molars.

CJ:I call bullshit. Why do you want to know if I've dropped my pants or not? Do you think he's a top or a bottom?

My entire body went rigid. That was not what I'd asked and definitely not the image I needed in my head. My thumb flew over the keyboard, but another text popped up before I could hit send.

CJ:You want to know whether or not he's sucked my dick yet too?

A growl ripped up my throat as I smashed the button on my phone.

Me:Answer the fucking question, CJ.

CJ:I highly doubt this is your normal protocol.

CJ:What's your problem?

That was a great fucking question, wasn't it? But I did have a problem with him being on a date with Nate. There was no point in denying that fact anymore.

Just as I went to respond, someone beat on the suite's front door hard enough that the sound reached the second floor even with my apartment door shut.

I glanced at the time on my phone. It was nine o'clock, and I wasn't open for business. Probably another client having a crisis, but I was in no condition to listen or fix potential relationship bullshit when my own life was a massive train wreck. I ignored the pounding and replied.

Me:I don't have a problem. You want to fuck him? Go ahead.

The pounding came again, and my anger alone sent me surging across the room. I flung open the door and pounded down the stairs. I was dropping whatever client had decided to make an impromptu visit at this time of night. Although considering my mood, they'd probably gladly walk away.

The silhouette of a man was barely visible through the door. I only had two clients that stood at that height, and both of them were currently on a date together. My footsteps slowed as my brow furrowed.

"Open the fucking door, Roman." CJ's rough voice boomed from outside.

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