The Revelation

by Lauren Rowe

  “Finally, if room service and/or an in-room massage is desired by my date (or dates) before I arrive at eight o’clock sharp, she/they should feel free to charge any desired expenses to the room. My primary concern is her (their) comfort and enjoyment.

  “As far as which of the two scenarios is scheduled in each city on my itinerary, surprise me. As long as each scenario is represented equally over the course of the month, I’ll be more than satisfied.

  “So there you go. These are my sick-fuck fantasies. I wound up losing the only woman I’ve ever loved over them—and I hadn’t even acted on any of them yet. So fuck it. Let’s do this. If my fantasies are gonna ruin my life, then I should at least get to do them, don’t you think?

  “I look forward to hearing from you. Thank you.”

  I can’t stop staring at my laptop screen.

  I turn off the music. I need silence. I’m overwhelmed.

  Holy Not What I Was Expecting, Batman.

  This is a lot to take in. I feel like my brain is short-circuiting.

  My head hurts.

  And so does my heart.

  That Emma girl really did a number on Josh, didn’t she? Wow. What a bitch.

  I read the entire application again, my heart racing.

  Wow. It’s no less overwhelming to me the second time around.

  I sit and stare at the wall for ten minutes, a thousand emotions bombarding me.

  My eyelids are drooping. God, I’m so damned tired, I can’t think clearly. And I certainly can’t formulate what I wanna say about all this to Josh just yet.

  Now I understand why Josh didn’t want me to read his damned application. For him, our tug-of-war over his application wasn’t a game—not the way it was for me, anyway. For him, it was an act of emotional self-preservation.

  No wonder he called me a terrorist.

  He must have hated me for how hard I pushed.

  Shit. I should have let the man have his privacy. I should have left him alone.

  I grab my phone off the bed next to me and tap out a text to Josh. “I’ve read it,” I type. “Gonna sleep now—about to keel over. Let’s talk later, after I wake up.”

  Josh’s reply is instantaneous. “Is it worse than being chained to a donkey?”

  I roll my eyes. “You said I didn’t have to tell you my thoughts right away—you said I only had to text that I’ve read it.”

  “Yeah, yeah, I know I said that,” he writes. “And I totally meant it. But just tell me one thing now, just so I can fall asleep: What are all your thoughts about my application?”

  I grin. He’s so cute. “Too many thoughts all at once. I’m too sleep deprived to think. Just let me catch a couple hours of sleep and then we’ll talk.” I press send.

  Josh’s application has made me feel a thousand different emotions, all at once, but mostly, I feel a horrible pang in my heart for the rejection Josh endured at the hands of someone he loved and trusted.

  I sigh. Oh, Josh. I really can’t let him twist in the wind for hours while I sleep. I know his application doesn’t change a goddamned thing between us, but he doesn’t know that. I don’t want to talk about all this in detail just yet, but I certainly don’t want him to feel anxiety, either.

  I pick up my phone and call him.

  “Hi,” Josh says, picking up my call after one ring.

  “Hi.”

  There’s a long beat as Josh waits for me to say whatever I’m calling to say. I can hear him holding his breath on his end of the line.

  “All I wanna do is sleep,” I say evenly. “That’s all.”

  He still doesn’t say anything.

  “I don’t wanna talk just yet. I really need to process exactly what I wanna say to you. Okay?”

  “Okay,” he says softly.

  “But... I was thinking... will you come to my room and sleep with me tonight? I don’t wanna be alone—I want to be with you.”

  He lets out a loud puff of air. “Hell yeah. I’ll be right there.”

  Chapter 10

  Josh

  I’m jolted awake by a banging at the door. My eyes spring open.

  I’m tangled up with Kat in her bed, in my briefs, and I’ve got a gigantic woody. I was having an awesome dream—a totally awesome dream about Kat. It was so blatantly symbolic, so obvious, I feel like slapping my subconscious for being so lacking in imagination. In my dream, Kat was giving me an incredible blowjob and Emma walked into the room. But rather than jerk out of Kat’s mouth and rush to smooth things over with Emma, I just said, “Oh, hey, Emma. I’m kinda busy right now.” And then I looked down at Kat, at her blue eyes looking up at me, and I smiled.

  There’s another loud bang at the door. “Hey, are you guys in there?”

  Kat lifts her head, bleary-eyed. She looks at the clock and rubs her eyes. “Oh crap. My alarm didn’t go off.”

  I leap out of bed and bound to the door. “Yeah, we’re here,” I call out.

  I open the door to find Henn standing there. His eyes immediately train on my gigantic boner. “Well, good morning,” Henn says cheerily, staring at my crotch. His eyes snap up to my face. “Dude,” he says. “We’ve gotta be on-call to save the world today, remember?”

  “Sorry,” I mumble. “Our alarm didn’t go off.”

  He motions to my dick. “Mmm hmm. Time to get your other head in the game, Faraday.” He peeks past me into the room. “Kat?”

  “Yep,” she calls from inside the room. “Come on in, Henny.”

  I open the door wide and Henn strolls past me. He’s definitely got his swagger on today—which makes sense: I suppose Henn’s playing in some sort of Hacker Super Bowl today.

  “Hey, Kitty Kat,” Henn says. “Sorry to intrude on your optometry appointment again, but Jonas texted ten minutes ago, asking me to confirm all the money’s still in place and we’re ready to move at his signal. I told him we’re good to go any time, boss, of course—and then I ran around like a chicken with my head cut off looking for you two losers. Jesus, guys. You’re gonna give me gray hair, and I’m much too young and pretty for gray hair.”

  “Sorry,” Kat and I say in unison.

  “I know you guys are busy falling in love and all—”

  My eyes instantly dart to Kat’s face, my cheeks bursting with color, and she looks like Henn just stuck her finger into an electrical socket.

  “—but we’ve gotta keep our eye on the job,” Henn continues. “Jonas and Sarah went into their meeting with the feds a few hours ago and we’ve got to be ready, just in case. Once we’ve delivered the money, then you two can go off and do whatever the hell kind of eye exam you want, all night and day, but right now I need both of you to keep your eyes on the prize and your heads in the game.”

  I look down. This is exactly why I’ve stayed friends with Henn for so long: he’s one of the few people in my life that calls me on my shit. He’s right. I’ve been letting myself get hopelessly distracted from what we’re here in Las Vegas to do.

  “To be honest, the odds are low we’ll be asked to make the transfers today,” Henn continues, his tone much softer, “so I’m sure we’re okay—Jonas is ninety-nine percent sure his meeting’s gonna go ’til the end of the banking day today—but he wants us to stand by just in case. No room for error.”

  “You’re totally right, Henn,” Kat says. “We’ll stop acting like complete idiots.”

  “Not you, Kitty Kat. Just him,” Henn says, winking at her. “You can do no wrong, pretty lady.”

  Kat grins at Henn. “Hear that, Josh? You’re a terrible influence on me.” She laughs. “Do I have time to take a quick shower, Henny?” She sits up and the bed sheet slides off her torso—clearly revealing the outline of her nipples under her thin, white tank top.

  Oh shit. I don’t think she’s ever looked sexier than she does right now.

  “I think you’d better just throw on your clothes and be ready in five, just in case,” Henn says, averting his eyes from Kat’s skimpy tank top. He looks at his watch. “The
minute banking hours are over here in Vegas, then we’ll be off the hook ’til tomorrow morning and you can shower and all that. But, in theory, Jonas could call literally any time now so we’ve got to be ready to move on a dime.”

  “Okay,” Kat says, rubbing her face. “Sorry, Henny. We’ll pull our shit together and get our heads in the game from now on. Right, Josh?”

  “Absolutely,” I say. Holy fuck, Kat’s nipples look amazing in that tank top. I look away, my cock tingling.

  Kat picks up her phone. “Oh, I’ve got a text from Sarah. She says one of the guys in the meeting looks like he could stuff her into the trunk of his car and she’d never be heard from again.” Kat chuckles to herself. “Oh, shoot, I’ve got another missed call from my friend Hannah. I should give her a quick call. She’s probably got a question on this big account she’s handling for me at work. Do I have time to make a quick call? Super-duper quick?” She bats her eyelashes.

  Henn nods. “Yeah, really quick. But you might have to get off if Jonas calls and gives us the signal.”

  “Okay. Like lightning.”

  I can’t peel my eyes off her. I’ve never seen her first thing in the morning before. She’s turning me on. Especially after what happened last night: after reading my application, she opened her door, wordlessly hugged me, and led me to her bed; then, without a word, the two of us lay down together, our bodies pressed close, our arms wrapped around each other, and quickly drifted off to sleep.

  It was such a simple interaction, but I have no idea how to put into words how much it meant to me. The woman had just read my sick-fuck fantasies and she serenely fell asleep in my arms. Whatever she plans to say to me about that application at some point in the future will be icing. The way she fell asleep in my arms last night? That was the cake.

  Kat dials Hannah’s number and presses the phone to her ear.

  Her eyes drift to me as she waits for Hannah to pick up.

  “How’d you sleep, babe?” she asks softly, the phone pressed to her ear.

  My entire body buzzes. Has Kat called me ‘babe’ before? I don’t think so. But if so, she’s never said it quite like that.

  “Good,” I say, my skin electrifying. “You?”

  “Good.” She beams a smile at me. “Really, really good.”

  Holy shit. I feel high. With one brief and seemingly innocuous exchange, the woman just confirmed exactly what’s going on inside her head: she doesn’t think I’m a sick fuck.

  Kat’s attention is drawn to her phone. “Hi, Hannah Banana Montana Milliken,” she says. “So what’s up?” She listens for a minute. “Oh, no worries. Just tell them we’ll do a Twitter campaign instead—that’s their demographic, anyway. We’ll make lemonade out of lemons. No problem. We can set up a live chat with a hashtag.” She pauses. “Oh, I dunno, how ’bout hashtag-I’ve-got-your-pulled-pork-right-here?” She winks at me. “And then we’ll select a winner,” she continues. “I’d say a gift card. Yeah. That sounds good. But I can talk to them if you prefer—I’ll probably be free later today to chat.” She laughs. “Aw, anytime. Thanks for picking up all the slack while I’ve been gone.”

  Henn and I look at each other. The woman’s a PR badass; there’s no doubt about it. I love seeing her like this, kicking ass and taking names.

  “Yeah, I am, as a matter of fact,” Kat says into the phone, her eyes drifting to me. “Mmm hmm. Actually, yeah, he is.” She beams a huge smile at me.

  Henn rolls his eyes and shoots me a smirk.

  “Funny you should ask that, Banana,” Kat says, her eyes leaving me and landing on Henn. “He does. And he’s the coolest guy you’ll ever meet. Actually, he’s a fucking genius.”

  Henn shifts his weight.

  Kat suddenly extends her phone toward Henn. “Henn, my adorable and funny friend Hannah Millikin wants very much to say hello to you.”

  “To me?” Henn asks, his face turning red.

  Kat laughs. “Yup. Come on, Henn. YOLO.” She holds out the phone again, insisting he take it. “Hannah’s the coolest girl you’ll ever talk to, I promise. A total goofball. Loyal. Smart. Cute. Funny. The list goes on and on. Nothing to lose by just saying hi.”

  Henn waffles.

  “Oh, and did I mention?” Kat says. “She got brown hair and glasses.” She winks.

  Henn takes the phone, his cheeks rising with color. “Well, this isn’t awks or anything,” he says into the phone. “Hello, Hannah Millikin. I’m Peter Hennessey—but everyone just calls me Henn.” He pauses to let Hannah talk and then chuckles. “Yeah, she did kinda make it sound like your idea, actually.” He laughs again. “She’s a sneaky one, for sure.” He pauses. “Um, you know, just working... I’m a computer specialist—a freelance programmer.” He clears his throat and listens for a moment. “L.A., New York, Toronto, Denver—I go wherever the job takes me, and I can work from anywhere, so I travel a lot, but I mostly live in L.A. in a crappy-ass apartment. Where are you? Oh, yeah, duh. Kat just said she works with you. Yeah, sure, I get up there sometimes—I love it there. Good salmon.” He pauses. “Me, too,” he finally says. “Indubitably.” He grins broadly at something Hannah’s saying. “Yeah, I hope so. Thanks.” He blushes and hands the phone back to Kat. “Here you go.”

  “Not so awks after all, huh?” Kat says playfully.

  Henn flashes a shy smile. “Not nearly as awks as it could have been,” he agrees. “She made it easy.”

  Kat grins and grabs the phone. “Hey, girl. Isn’t he the cutest? I know, right? Sure, I’ll send you a picture.” She lowers her voice. “Word on the street is he’s a phenomenal kisser, too.” She beams a smile at Henn and giggles. “Yeah, I will. Okay, bye, Banana. Thanks again.”

  Kat puts her phone down, grins devilishly, and steeples her fingers like a cartoon villain. “Oh, my darling Henny, I have a feeling.”

  “About what?”

  “About you and my dear friend Hannah Banana Montana Millikin. What’s your sign?”

  “My sign? Sagittarius.”

  Kat’s face lights up. “Ah, the explorer. Well, that makes perfect sense. And super-duper perfect with Leo.”

  “Hannah’s a Leo?” I ask.

  Kat nods. “And Sag-Leo is a fabulous combo. Maybe when we’re done saving the world all four of us can go out to dinner some time?”

  “I’d be up for that,” I say.

  Henn shrugs and makes a face like he’s got nothing to lose. “Um. Sure.”

  Kat scrolls through the photos on her phone for a moment. When she finds what she’s looking for, she hands her phone to Henn. “That’s Hannah,” she says.

  Henn looks at the phone. “Wow. She’s super cute.” He blushes. “Yeah, I’d totally be up for dinner. Sounds great.”

  “Awesome.” Kat’s eyes are positively sparkling. She plops her phone onto the bed next to her. “Okay, boys. I’m gonna brush my teeth and wash my face and then, voila, I’ll be Oksana Belenko for as long needed.”

  With that, she hops out of bed in her itty-bitty G-string and barely-there tank top and sashays to the bathroom on her long, toned legs, her blonde hair falling down her back—completely unaware of, or not giving a shit about, the male shrapnel she’s leaving behind in her glorious wake.

  Chapter 11

  Kat

  I’m practically peeing myself with laughter.

  Josh, Henn, and Reed are telling the story of how Josh wound up with “YOLO” inked onto his ass, and Will, Carmen, and I are laughing so hard, we can barely keep ourselves upright at the table.

  As it turned out, Josh, Henn and I weren’t called upon to make the money transfers today. At around four o’ clock our time, Sarah and Jonas called to tell us we were free until eight tomorrow morning, at which time they wanted us to station ourselves outside the first bank on our agenda, ready to go at their signal. Which meant that after Josh, Henn, and I did a little shopping for clothes befitting the wealthy pimpstress Oksana Belenko, we decided to let off a little steam and have a great meal together.

  �
��Let’s call Reed,” Josh suggested. “Get the band back together.”

  As it turned out, Reed was on his way to the airport with Will and Carmen when Josh called, but at his friend’s invitation to dinner, he turned his car around. And now Josh, Henn, Reed, Will, Carmen and I are sitting together in a five-star restaurant, half-way through our amazing meal, laughing ’til tears pour down our faces.

  “You knew I had the quote wrong the whole time?” Josh shouts at Reed, incredulous. “After ten years, this is the first time I’m hearing this part of the story.”

  Reed is laughing so hard, he’s crying. “Of course, I knew. You were dead in the water, bro. Everyone knew it. It wasn’t even close.”

  “Then why the hell did you goad me on like that?”

  “And miss watching you to get ‘YOLO’ tattooed onto your ass?”

  Josh can’t believe his ears. “For all these years, I thought you didn’t know. I thought you were being fair and impartial.”

  Reed shakes his head, laughing. “Hell no. I was Team Henn all the way. It served you right, bro. You were being a total dick about it.”

  Henn is howling with laughter. “You’re demented, Reed.”

  “Hey, all in good fun.”

  “Fun for you, maybe,” Josh says. “You’re not the one with YOLO tattooed on his ass.”

  “Aw, bad tattoos happen to the best of us,” Will says, slapping Josh on the shoulder. “Look at this.” Will rolls up his sleeve and shows Josh a tattoo on his forearm—and I immediately slap my hand over my mouth at the sight of it. Oh my God, no. Will’s got a dragon on his arm—one of the tattoos on my so-called list of no-no’s.

  “Oh, look, a dragon,” Josh says, smiling, his facial expression morphing into one of pure glee. “Do you see that, Kitty Kat?”

  My cheeks burst into flames. Holy crap. Why the heck did I name dragon tattoos as one of the items on my “social suicide” list? I was talking out my butt—pulling it out of thin air. Why the heck did I say that?