Total pages in book: 152
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 147051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 735(@200wpm)___ 588(@250wpm)___ 490(@300wpm)
“You did what?” Roman looks like he wants to flip the table.
Dallas shakes his head. “Are you telling me that after you found out Rix and Tristan were sleeping together, you brought home women you and Tristan had previously tag-teamed? While your sister was sleeping in her doorless, wall-less loft above you?”
Flip looks at the table.
“Yes. That’s exactly what happened,” I say, since he won’t confirm or deny it.
“That was a real asshole move.” Ashish sounds disgusted.
Dallas shakes his head in disapproval.
“I thought they both needed a reminder of what Tristan is really like,” Flip says, then grimaces as he takes in the horrified expressions around the table. “Which was a really shitty thing to do.”
“Ya think?” Hollis scoffs. “Like the stakes weren’t already high enough with Rix being your sister, then you gotta throw his past, which you’re complicit in, back in their faces?”
“I didn’t think about it that way until now.” Flip looks embarrassed.
“Going behind your back was a shitty thing to do, though,” I say. “And I didn’t mean for it to happen. Or keep happening. Or to catch feelings for Bea. But I did. Catch feelings.” I rub the back of my neck. I feel like I’m about to have an allergic reaction.
“I mean, you passed up a repeat with Tiff and Trinity, and those two were up for anything,” Flip says.
“I don’t want to talk about other women’s pussies. Especially not other ones I’m familiar with, because it makes me feel like a steaming pile of garbage, and I already feel shitty enough.”
“At least I’m upfront about who I’m sleeping with instead of hiding it,” Flip counters. For a moment it seems like he’s going to say more, but then he takes a swig of his beer and sighs. “I guess if you want to try to date my sister, I won’t punch you out again.”
“For real? You’d be okay with it?”
“Yeah. For real. Just don’t break her heart,” Flip warns. “If you do, I get to punch you in the face again.”
“That’s fair.”
Dallas claps me on the shoulder. “Look at you two. That’s some real personal growth.”
Now I need to grow a pair of balls and apologize to Bea for being a giant asshole. If I’m lucky, maybe she’ll let me do more than make up for that orgasm I shortchanged her. Maybe she’ll let me try to date her, too.
CHAPTER 23
RIX
“These reports are flawless, Rix. You’re such a fantastic addition to this team. I almost regret telling you about that position in Vancouver.” Agatha Boycott, my boss, gives me a rueful smile. She prefers to be called Aggie. She’s a super funky woman in her early fifties with two grown children, a Great Dane, and a hairless cat. There are pictures of her entire family, pets included, all over her office.
“I just moved into an apartment with a friend, so I’m not looking to transfer.” Although, if ever there was a time I should consider getting out of Dodge, it would be now, while my heart is bruised and my vagina is devastated. But it would be uncool to move in with Hammer and promptly bail for Vancouver.
It’s nice to have a fun roommate. And as enticing as Vancouver sounds, I can’t handle more change. I need time to get over what happened with Tristan. The whole “I’ll see you when I see you” parting still stings. And the lack of communication makes me question whether I was wrong about him having feelings.
“We’ll happily hold on to you as long as you’d like to stay,” Aggie assures me. “There will be plenty of opportunity for movement inside the firm.”
“Thanks, Aggie. I really like it here.” And I do. I like my colleagues, I like my boss, and the job is dynamic enough to keep me on my toes in a good way. I enjoy financial planning and helping people establish good spending habits and work within a budget or helping someone maximize their investment potential. Is it my passion? No. But for now it’s enough. I need one stable, consistent thing in my life.
I return to my office to finish end-of-the-day paperwork. Beryl, who I share an office with, in addition to Mavis and Burt, hops up from her desk when I walk through the door.
“There was a delivery for you.”
“Really? I didn’t order office supplies.”
“It’s not office supplies.” She clasps and unclasps her hands while pursing and un-pursing her lips.
I frown. “Is it an NSFW delivery or something?” I wouldn’t put it past Hemi and Hammer to send me dick-shaped donuts or cookies to cheer me up. They’re good friends, but sometimes they forget that I don’t work with a team of alpha males who handle sticks and pucks for a living.
“No. It’s on your desk.” Beryl follows me to my cubicle.
I suck in a breath when I see it. Only one person I know would send this kind of gift basket—and to my work, of all places. It’s enormous and ostentatious. And there’s no way I want to open it in front of Beryl. That will only make the contents more visible, and then I’ll have to explain. That’s a big, huge nope. I peel the card free from the cellophane and open the envelope.