Total pages in book: 15
Estimated words: 14578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 14578 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 73(@200wpm)___ 58(@250wpm)___ 49(@300wpm)
It doesn’t matter.
Not after tonight.
Footsteps pad my way and then the bed sinks down beside me.
“You okay?” Adrian asks, running a fingertip along the outside of my arm.
“Yep.” My clipped tone causes a tension between us, the air thick and crackling with it. “I think maybe I should go.”
“No,” Adrian bites, his voice slightly shaking.
I roll onto my back, my eyes drifting to meet his. “Tomorrow—”
“Stay and eat with me. Tomorrow will be fine.”
I study his handsome, vulnerable face for a long moment. “A quick bite and then I need to go.”
His brows crash together and he opens his mouth like he might argue. In the end, he lets out a heavy sigh and nods. “Dinner and then I’ll drive you home.”
I ruined it.
I fucking knew this would happen.
It’s been nearly an entire week since I spent the weekend with Adrian only to be pretty much ignored ever since. I knew it would happen and I did it anyway. I was an itch for him to scratch. Nothing more. If I didn’t love this job so much, I would’ve quit days ago because the shame and embarrassment is almost too much to bear.
“…and then this asshole has the nerve to hit on my girlfriend,” Tad continues, drawing my attention back to him. “Like I’m not standing right there.”
I take another bite of my sandwich, nodding at him to continue.
He spears his fingers into his hair, messing up the gel. “So I tell him to move the fuck along, you know?”
“Did he?”
“Nope. Fucker took a swing at me!”
“Did he land the punch?”
He rubs at his cheek. “It didn’t bruise but feel this.” He grabs my hand, yanking it from my sandwich to force me to feel the knot on his face. “Feel it? It’s hard and—”
“Mr. Moore!”
I yank my hand back, my eyes going wide when they land on Adrian standing in the break room doorway. His face is red and his eyes seem to glow with rage.
“Yes?” I choke out.
“A word,” Adrian growls. “My office now.”
He storms out of the break room and the slam of his office door makes the entire building seem to rattle.
“Dude,” Tad hisses, shaking his head, “what the hell did you do? He’s pissed. Don’t get fired, man. I like you.”
I let out a sigh as I toss all my trash in the bin. “I’m sure it’s fine.”
Tad’s furled brows indicate he thinks it’s anything but fine.
“I’ll see you around.” I take my time walking through the office. When I reach Adrian’s door, I suck in a calming breath before rapping on the dark mahogany. “Can I come in?”
He grunts out his approval. I push through the door and close it behind me. Anger seems to radiate from him as he paces the floor in front of his desk. Shoving my hands into my too-tight slacks pockets, I wait for him to get to it.
“Are you firing me?” I ask, hating how small my voice sounds. “If there’s something I’ve done wrong, I can fix it. I want to be the best assistant—”
“Why him?” he demands, fiery eyes pinning me to my spot. “Why Tad and not me?”
I frown at him. “W-What?”
“I kept replaying in my head what I did wrong Sunday night. I couldn’t pinpoint it.” His brows furl as sadness glimmers in his eyes. “I don’t know how I scared you away, but I was just sure I could get you back. I was planning on a way.”
Confusion wars within me. “Adrian—”
“But it wasn’t me,” he chokes out. “You wanted him all along.”
Silly, silly man.
“I don’t want him. And had you not ignored me all week, you’d know that,” I throw back, the hurt in my voice making it quiver. “I knew going home with you would ruin this job and I was right. You acted as though I weren’t there.”
He storms over to me, standing so close our chests nearly touch. “I could never ignore you.”
“But—”
His lips brush against mine with tenderness that makes my chest ache. “Never, Ry. I’ve been trying to give you your space. Tried not to upset you any further. But then…then you were touching him.” His nostrils flare. “When you’re supposed to be mine. I couldn’t hold back any longer.”
I melt at his words. “You still want me?”
“And here I thought you were brilliant,” he growls, cupping my cheeks and pulling my face to his. “Of course I still want you. I never stopped wanting you. I wanted you the second I saw you.”
“I am brilliant,” I tease back. “And I still want you too, silly.”
His kiss is urgent and needy—as though he’s trying to convey in one kiss how good we can be together if we keep practicing. I lose myself to the tender way he ravishes and owns my mouth with his. He manages to guide me to his desk, pinning me against it.