Page 11 of Fever Dream
“You do?”
“Yeah. An off-sight excursion,” I say, moving my treatment plan forward a couple of days. “And if that fails maybe you can try batting those eyelashes at Coach again. That never fails you, right?”
Casey lets out a laugh, those eyes opening up to meet mine. Damn he is gorgeous. And yesterday was a big, big mistake. It’s not going to help either of us if we keep on getting closer like this, not when I am already this close to crushing on him. Looking is one thing but now, well, now I am well and truly heading into murky waters.
Yesterday was so much fun. Casey is such an awesome guy to be around and I loved seeing a bit of Sydney with him. I can’t remember the last time I laughed so much.
But I am having trouble keeping my dick from getting hard every time he is in my vicinity and now I’ve somehow gone from spending the day sightseeing with him to spending the night on his sofa.
Time to put those professional barriers back up in place.
“Well, those lashes got us a whole heap of free drinks last night if memory serves,” Casey smirks, laying his hand on his glittering abs.
“Those lashes got us in a whole heap of trouble more like,” I can’t help adding.
“Hey, these lashes might have got us the first few rounds, but your luscious curls got us the rest,” he chides, knocking his knee against mine and leaving it there. Does he honestly have no idea how flirty he is with me? Gosh, he kills me. Though to be fair, Casey has no idea I am into guys but seriously, for someone who claims to be straight, he sure knows how to pique a guy’s interest.
“Oh, so this is all my fault, huh?” I return, knocking his knee back with mine.
“You know what they say, Harry,” he answers, that gorgeous grin on his face. “It takes two to tango.”
And now he’s gone and given me a nickname. As if things aren’t difficult enough between us as they are. I come from a very proper English background where nicknames are not a thing. At home I very much answer toHarrison. Sometimes it’s evenHarrison Jamesbut absolutely neverHarry. Even at work I am either called by my full name or, more often than not, my last name. Of course, Casey would be the one to get under my defences like this.
“I may have lost most of memories of last night, but I am almost certain we did not tango,” I offer half-heartedly.
“Never too late to start now,” he jokes. I let out a breath, that image now firmly planted in my mind with him dressed in just his stripey boxers. “So, what’s the plan for today?”
“Let me just send off a text to Ben and then we can hit the road,” I say, pulling out my phone from my back pocket to do just that.
“On our excursion?” Casey asks.
“Yes. On our excursion.”
“You do like to keep a guy in suspense, don’t you?”
“It’s literally my favourite thing.”
“Ha. I like you, Harry,” Casey smiles serenely, causing my heart to stutter hard in my chest. “I’ve got a feeling you and I are going to be best friends.”
“Oh, is that what you think?” I return, shifting slightly in my seat at his casual reference to us and our future relationship. The way he saidyou and I. It’s doing things to me.
“Course. Don’t you feel it?”
Well I feel something, that is for sure, but I am not about to tell him that. “What if I already have a best friend?”
“You’d never cheat on me, would you, Harry?” Casey asks, still in that jokey way that’s sending all of those pesky mixed signals straight to my brain.
Straight. The guy is straight. Dammit.
My phone pings and I rip it up, grateful for the distraction. “Right, Ben’s given the green light so we’re all good to go,” I tell him, leaving his last little quip well and truly behind. That seems to sober him up and he sits up straighter on the sofa, causing those abs to ripple and contract and drawing my ever-reliable attention their way.
“Cool. I need a shower first,” Casey says. “You can use the one upstairs.”
“I’m fine,” I reply, not needing those images to add to the ones already circulating in my head. “I’ll shower when I get home.”
“Don’t be silly,” Casey replies, rising to his feet and hauling me up along with him. Before I can protest any further, he’s shunting me up the stairs, his hands pressed to my lower back as I try to move faster to get away from his touch. He pushes me all the way down a hallway to a nice, modern bathroom clad in grey tiles and a wooden vanity and then fusses about inside as he finds me a nice, fluffy towel to use.
“Need help getting those little koalas off your shirt?” he asks, holding back a smile as I glance down at my top, full of clinging little marsupials.
